...Exhausted from My New Job

Ugh. Can barely bring myself to write today. Didn't get to bed until after 2 last night, woke up, did it all again today. It's this new job...just killer! I've thrown myself into this new position, but it doesn't seem to matter. There's always something else for me to do, more gold stars for me to earn.

And the pigs at work! Ugh, really. These grunting, snorting pigs, sitting on their nest eggs in their cush offices. All exposed wood and glass and concrete slab. Blech- some of them even have pillars. Like, how do pillars go with concrete? This one guy at work has a giant, red mustache- huge. He looks like he has a broom stuck up his pig nose. I honestly don't know how they got to where they are...just sitting there, grunting.

And here I am, on a wing and a prayer, trying to get things to go my way. Flinging myself at this work, trying to expose the pigs for what they are. Trying, yes, I'll admit it, to bring them down. Bring the whole damn structure down! But with every victory, another hurdle. Another game to play.

I hear the holidays aren't any better. Sure, they're dressed up in floaty, pink hearts or disgustingly cliched leprechaun costumes, Santa hats or scarecrow costumes, but a pigs a pig, no matter how you dress him up.

There was a chance that they'd send me to Rio. Sure, it'd be a change of scenery, maybe some different music, but in the end, it's all the same game.

I've got to do something. This place is eating all my time.
Some days I think I'll just shoot right past work, but like a boomerang I'm drawn right back.
I'm like a bomb waiting to explode.
I'm about to lay an egg.
I'm seeing red.

I am one Angry Bird.

...Having a New York Moment

My roommate posted on facebook at 3:45 am that he was having a "New York moment". This tight lipped post incited a list of comments, the first of which was "That could be a really good or really bad thing."

For those of you who don't know, a New York moment is one of three things:
1. running into someone on the street whom you either haven't seen in 8 years and didn't know was in New York
2. something involving celebrities and/or getting the royal treatment
3. an utterly disgusting incident, the vast majority of which occur in the subway
Triple Quadruple bonus points for being able to combine any of these elements.

Now I've witnessed oral sex between two homeless people. I've served chicken to Doctor Ruth, had champagne at a film premiere at the Ziegfeld and run into a friend from college who was just in town to see 2 plays and killing time before grabbing the Megabus back to Baltimore. I've see Mark Cuban at a college bar in Murray Hill, run into an ex-boyfriend's roommate on the Metro North after a kid's Halloween party in Milford Connecticut, felt the cool sprinkle of a man's urine as he peed off the subway mezzanine, 8 feet above my head. I've had my share of New York moments. This one is my favorite.

I was waiting tables at O'Flaherty's Irish Pub on restaurant row in Hell's Kitchen. It was fall which meant that it was nice enough to have the patio open, but only until 10. There was a strict "Patio closes at 10" policy which was a-ok by me because it shrunk my already unwieldy section of 15 tables. However, I had to be the enforcer of this rule. Shutting the patio down and keeping it closed, that was a little tricky.

One night, the cast of Translations came in. Eve Best, Colm Meany (most famous for Star Trek: Next Generation) and others shot right for the patio which was just about to be closed. I informed them of this and they asked that they have their first drink outside. When I relayed their orders to Nelson, the senior bartender (and when I say senior, I mean it. At 73, he was like an angry Leslie Nielsen) he told me they had to come inside. Once reported to Mr. Meany, he snarled then charged inside to convince Nelson otherwise.

I served the first round outside and about 10 minutes later went back out to reseat the group. Again there was grumbling! Come on, yo. This is me, asking you to do something pretty painless, after granting you extra time outside...just have your drink at the GD bar! I was markedly meeker in those days and I granted them another couple minutes while I cleared some glasses. Feeling rather mistreated I schlepped inside only to recieve more harsh words from Nelson. (This was before the days of FML! "Good grief" was all I had at my disposal.)

As I headed out again, I walked past a man building up the courage to go talk to the esteemed actor on the patio. Good grief! I need to get them out of there and now I had an additional obstacle, an adoring fan, no less! The man just beat me to Meany, and said nervously; "Sorry to interrupt. I just had to tell you I think you're fantastic, so talented! I loved you in Chicago."


Colm Meany
Star of Star Trek: Next Generation

John C. Reilly
star of Chicago

                                                                                                                                                                                          

The patio cleared out shortly after.