Karma won't let me sleep

My friend Eric, of the last post, is moving to Alberta this month. So, he had his house up for sale and hand booked 16 viewings in one day. I had to work the day of the multi-viewings, and I also had to sit around and gnosh and have a bevy or two; so, I didn't get home until 1am the next day. Even though it is 2 hours later where he is, I still gave him a call to see how it went. He was sleeping or something, whatever it was, he didn't answer the phone. The jackass. I felt bad for trying to intrude upon his sleep at 3am.
That is ok, beacuse karma got me back hardcore a few hours later. I was nestled all snug as a bug in my bed, quite unconscious when...
THE FIRE ALARM GOES OFF!! I tried to ignore it. I tried to sleep through it. Eventually I began to suspect that there might actually be a fire so I put on some pants and a shirt and waddled over to get my jacket. I stepped into the hallway. There were all sorts of men running around in the hallway trying to turn off the fire alarm. Apparently, I was in no danger of catching on fire, so I could go back to bed.
When I returned to my bed I noticed that it was 3am. I guess that was karma getting me back for trying to wake up a friend.
What is worst is that when Eric woke up at 9:30am (7:30am my time) he decided to call me 5 times until I picked up the phone and told him I wanted to sleep. He is a very nice boy, so he did let me sleep. Until 8:30am, when he decided to call again.
I have learned my lesson, Karma and Eric will get me back if I try to make a very early morning call.

Call out

Sometimes, people see a bit of cool and they need so much to be attached to it. I have a friend like this. After an entire weekend of hearing nagging about not being mentioned in this little blog that gets 2 readers, I have decided it is time to succumb.
Eric, this one is for you.
Eric is a friend of mine that has been begging me for weeks to tell stories about him, and until he does something story worthy, this is as close as he is going to get.
Eric, you are lame.
P.S. I love you. I am smitten.

Tracking Drunks

Like most corner pubs, the one attached to the restaurant attracts many people who spend a lot of time there. We see the same faces just about every day, and for many hours of every day. I always assume these people have no lives outside of the pub. They do not have homes, friends or families. Their lives exist only in the context I see them in.
This theory of them having no lives was sadly proven today. There was this guy who comes into the pub darn near every day at around 2pm, we will call him Drunk. Drunk doesn't usually leave until 8pm, and always has a pint in front of him. Today, I was out for dinner and as I was leaving the restaurant, I saw a taxicab pick up him and his flat of beer up. I was amazed. I didn't know that it was possible to drink so much in the pub and to have a flat at home as well. He must be a professional.
I was also amazed that I was right about his outside life. He drank, anywhere, anytime.
So, we drove towards home. And pulling into the parking lot of the building I live in, I noticed the same cab. I was strangely excited. There was no way he could possibly live in my building!!
And he doesn't. Well, not quite.
He opened the door to what I have always assumed to be the storage shed (semi detached from the building) and stepped inside.
Now I am so curious about this man. How do I find this stuff out? I want to know about... well, I am not so sure about what it is that I want to know, but I do.

Painter got Fired

I am singlehandedly responsible for the renovations at my restaurant being delayed. The painter from http://ichyforebrain.blogspot.com/2006/03/bit-of-sass-can-get-you-job.html got fired for talking inappropriately. The cook (Jen) told me the entire story.
Jen asked Rick (my future boss) what all the tradesmen were doing in the restaurant. The painter had told her that it would be only him left as we were pretty close to being done. Rick told her that they were getting quotes for another painter because they had released the painter from his contract. We all liked him in the restaurant, so she asked why. Rick told her that he was talking inappropriately to a waitress, and that he was working slowly. When asked which waitress, he said my name. Jen was rather shocked as she has met me and my inappropriate mouth. I am hardly a delicate talker.
I thought back on some of our conversation gems, the erectile dysfunction, Jerome ( http://www.chapter9photography.com/) and his decide to cut off his finger to be cool, lots of stuff that Jerome has done to be cool. Maybe those were what did it, but I was the initiator in all these conversations. I checked with my restaurant boss, I am allowed to talk inappropriately as much as I want.
I figure it is a possibility that what we were talking about was not the problem. The problem may have been that the discussions happened while I was setting up the restaurant in the morning. For the conversations to happen, he had to follow me around the restaurant while I wiped off yesterdays crumbs, and set tables. You can't get a lot of painting done when you are a puppy dog.

PS. Lets make this an even more reference filled entry. I have never met Jerome, but Ella (http://cherriescabaret.com/wordpress/) told me those stories about him. Ella is one heck of an amazing chick. Read her.

A Perfect Night of Waitressing

Really, it was great. Last night was perhaps my best night waitressing ever. My customers found me charming and funny, my percentages of liquor sales rivaled the bar's, my tips were wonderful. As a plus, my friend dropped off some roast beef for me. If only every night was so good.

A Bit of Sass Can Get You a Job

The restaurant that I work in has been undergoing some renovations. Whenever I have an opening shift I have to step around spacklers and tile workers and painters. They are fun to joke around with. I was teasing one of the painters about his erectile dysfunction, one day last week. I know painters can suffer from it because my friend Nick got it bad one year. It is from all the neurotoxic solvents that they use, then wash their hands in and just generally infest their bodies with. This painter kept saying that that was not true, it can't be because he has three kids and all that. I think he was enjoying all the talk about his penis.
He made a comment that with a mouth like mine, that I should work in the trades. We started talking about them. I had been looking into cabinet making online. Since highschool, it has always been one of my fantasies to make furniture. I told him all about it.
I guess his boss had been listening, as he walked up to me and said, "I will hire you"
He told me a bit about the job. In my mind it basically worked out that it was the girliest type of carpentry out there, which is good because I don't want to kill myself for any job. Not too much working outside in the winter, and none of the grossness of plumbing.
I think I am going to have to do it. A little more research is in order though

Snap Unhappy and the Edmonton Oilers

Luc didn't win the contest, apparently it was the Lesbian sisters who did. Congrats to them. Luc doesn't seem pissed off at this. He is more concerned with the Oilers lack of goaltending. It is a big problem out here.

We have been fighting over whether his hero Georges Laraque is an asshole or not. Luc says no because Laraque was nice enough to take his picture with him. I say Laraque is an asshole because he came into the restaurant to pick up his takeout order while I was on the phone today. I was taking a reservation, writing down a phone number and I hear:
"Is it ready? Is it ready?" I look up to see Laraque standing there looking at me. I give him the finger. Not that finger, but the finger that means "I will be with you in one second."
He replies with "Is my order ready?"
Do you have any idea how difficult it is to listen to numbers and write them down while someone is cawing like a crow in your ear? Let me tell you, it is tough.
I asked the lady on the phone to repeat her phone number, and pressed my finger in my ear and got the rest of the number, and hung up with the decision that I didn't like Laraque.
And I understood why no one else in the resto does either, he comes in quite often. It is the personality. Todd Harvey on the other hand...
FABULOUS

Hostesses made my day TWICE

As a waitress, I work with quite a few beautiful hostesses. They are nice girls, I like them. The problem with beautiful girls is that they are not always smart. The most beautiful girl is Annie, she is surprisingly the most un-smart (bad grammar was intentional there). Today, one of the waiters fucked something up, so he started singing the Homer Simpson song "I am so smart, S-M-R-T"
I guess Annie had never seen the Simpsons, as she did not catch the reference. She asked the waiter what the song was. He explained that it was funny because he is claiming to be so smart, but then spells a simple word wrong. Annie then asks "Then how are you supposed to spell it?"
That comment made my day, especially when a few minutes later, she came back and said,
"I got it now, you spell smart s-m-A-r-t." She is an adorable girl, and very sweet, but the level of pride she had in spelling that word just made me crack up even more.

It was a big day for the hostesses. Another one of them, one I will call Emma,(because that is her name) is actually quite smart. I think she feels the need to play up her dumbness to fit in with the others. She is one of the smartest dumb people I know, think about it-that sentence makes sense. We were talking about our cats. Everyone at the restaurant has a cat with an M name it seems. Hers is Marmalade, mine is MopKat (after me, and that she looks like a mop). I am pretty sure that she doesn't know as many words as she thinks she does, she wrote on the reservation board:
Marmalade + MopKat = Moot Point.

I am pretty sure that this is not the case. Someone tell me if I am wrong. Are 2 cats the same as irrelevancy or whatever fancy way there is to define a moot point.