Sunday
I think my manager is afraid of white people. Either that, or he thinks that we have some sort special powers or abilities of which he should take heed. That's the only explanation I come think of, because I came to work today entirely expecting to get fired after my confrontation with him yesterday, but he didn't say anything to me. The second he walked through the door, he just left me alone to wash the dishes until it slowed down, then he stops to tell me that I'm doing a good job (which is weird because I've never heard him tell anyone they're doing a good job) but he doesn't want me to bus the tables for the waitresses. I tell him that that's just the way I roll, and he replies "I don't want you to roll like that." I've never had a more surreal chat with someone when I was sober. Anyway, I quit bussing the tables for the waitressess. It goes against everything I've been taught my whole life, but it's his store and I'm not going to start telling him what's what. Besides, they're not helping me out, so why should I bust my ass for those ungrateful bitches. Except for Erin. She's alright.
I got home round quarter past four and called me dad. He gets pretty upset when you don't return his messages in a timely fashion. The problem is that I can't stand talking to the man. It's not that we don't relate to each other, because we do. We're practically the same person, separated by about 40 years. It's just that he has this bad habit of talking about something for twenty minutes when it should only take five. Fucking infuriating.
When I finished talking to my dad I returned a call from my friend Nathan. His car had broken down and he needed me to give him and his new German roommates a lift to an auto parts store and then back to his car so it could be fixed. Why the hell not? I'd never begrudge a friend a favor, so I drive on over to the Autozone down Riverside and pick him and his new roommates up. Luckily O'Reilly's had the right part, and Nathan and Thomas were able to fix the car with the help of some friendly Negroes who had just gotten off their shift at Jiffy Lube. As a token of his appreciation, Nathan drove the Negroes back to their pad so they wouldn't have to bother with bus, so we piled the Germans and all their stuff into my car and I took them back to Nathan's place.
In the midst of all this I got a call from David who wanted to know if I'd like to meet him, his woman, and our mutual friend Trevor at the Elephant Room. Honestly all I wanted to do was go back and sleep, but I hadn't seen Trevor for quite some time, so I said sure. I ate a quick dinner, then ran to the gym (which I probably shouldn't have done, but fuck it). When I got to the Elephant Room, David tells me that Trevor couldn't get a ride, so he wouldn't show up. "Fuck that, man" I tell David. I call Trevor and arrange to get him, because he's pretty much the whole reason I came out in the first place. So I go get Trevor, and when we get back to the club, who do I see but the three Germans I'd met earlier in the day! Trevor and I grabbed a table and we all sat together, listening to the three piece and listening to the Germans bitch about our shitty beer. Even though I was beat, I still enjoyed myself.
Dave and Jen
Kirsten and Thoman, two of the Germans
Trevor
Me and Kirsten
I think my manager is afraid of white people. Either that, or he thinks that we have some sort special powers or abilities of which he should take heed. That's the only explanation I come think of, because I came to work today entirely expecting to get fired after my confrontation with him yesterday, but he didn't say anything to me. The second he walked through the door, he just left me alone to wash the dishes until it slowed down, then he stops to tell me that I'm doing a good job (which is weird because I've never heard him tell anyone they're doing a good job) but he doesn't want me to bus the tables for the waitresses. I tell him that that's just the way I roll, and he replies "I don't want you to roll like that." I've never had a more surreal chat with someone when I was sober. Anyway, I quit bussing the tables for the waitressess. It goes against everything I've been taught my whole life, but it's his store and I'm not going to start telling him what's what. Besides, they're not helping me out, so why should I bust my ass for those ungrateful bitches. Except for Erin. She's alright.
I got home round quarter past four and called me dad. He gets pretty upset when you don't return his messages in a timely fashion. The problem is that I can't stand talking to the man. It's not that we don't relate to each other, because we do. We're practically the same person, separated by about 40 years. It's just that he has this bad habit of talking about something for twenty minutes when it should only take five. Fucking infuriating.
When I finished talking to my dad I returned a call from my friend Nathan. His car had broken down and he needed me to give him and his new German roommates a lift to an auto parts store and then back to his car so it could be fixed. Why the hell not? I'd never begrudge a friend a favor, so I drive on over to the Autozone down Riverside and pick him and his new roommates up. Luckily O'Reilly's had the right part, and Nathan and Thomas were able to fix the car with the help of some friendly Negroes who had just gotten off their shift at Jiffy Lube. As a token of his appreciation, Nathan drove the Negroes back to their pad so they wouldn't have to bother with bus, so we piled the Germans and all their stuff into my car and I took them back to Nathan's place.
In the midst of all this I got a call from David who wanted to know if I'd like to meet him, his woman, and our mutual friend Trevor at the Elephant Room. Honestly all I wanted to do was go back and sleep, but I hadn't seen Trevor for quite some time, so I said sure. I ate a quick dinner, then ran to the gym (which I probably shouldn't have done, but fuck it). When I got to the Elephant Room, David tells me that Trevor couldn't get a ride, so he wouldn't show up. "Fuck that, man" I tell David. I call Trevor and arrange to get him, because he's pretty much the whole reason I came out in the first place. So I go get Trevor, and when we get back to the club, who do I see but the three Germans I'd met earlier in the day! Trevor and I grabbed a table and we all sat together, listening to the three piece and listening to the Germans bitch about our shitty beer. Even though I was beat, I still enjoyed myself.
Dave and Jen
Kirsten and Thoman, two of the Germans
Trevor
Me and Kirsten
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variety:
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variety:
I'm gonna e-mail you my #