Slow
With September closing in, I decided to go out to 6th and enjoy cigarettes inside a bar one last time. It was a pretty uneventful night. Got a burger at Casino El Camino, went to a few bars I'd never been to before and probably will never enter again because they weren't especially impressive. I did meet a cute girl in the Warehouse District; I got her number, but unfortunately she was being protected by a jealous Baxter named Feivel.
Me: What's your name?
Feivel: Feivel
Me: (Incredulous) Could you say that again?
Feivel: My name's Feivel
Me: Are you serious? Feivel, like the mouse?
I can be a tremendous asshole sometimes.
I went to work this morning at 8, and after a night of heavy drinking, chain smoking and little sleep, I wasn't up to par. Truth be told, I was dogging it worse than Vince Carter in Toronto before he got traded to the Nets. And that's pretty bad. The Manager actually took me aside and dressed me down for being too slow. Normally I would have been royally pissed at him because I hate to be criticized, but he was fucking right. Regardless, by 11 the traffic had slowed to the point where the Manager decided my presence was no longer, so he let me sign out. I hung around eating brunch and left around 11:15. On my way to the car I was approached by a deaf homeless person who I absolutely could not understand for the life of me. As I vainly tried to decipher his ramblings, the Manager gestured to me in a most violent manner to come back inside the diner. I thought he was just trying to save me from having to deal with a homeless person, but no. The volume of traffic had doubled since I walked out the door. In this town, your luck can change that quickly. So I got to hang around for an extra an hour, pushing food and cleaning dishes. Yay. Finally it went back to normal afternoon slowness, and I came home to sleep. Now I gotta call that girl and see what she's doing.
With September closing in, I decided to go out to 6th and enjoy cigarettes inside a bar one last time. It was a pretty uneventful night. Got a burger at Casino El Camino, went to a few bars I'd never been to before and probably will never enter again because they weren't especially impressive. I did meet a cute girl in the Warehouse District; I got her number, but unfortunately she was being protected by a jealous Baxter named Feivel.
Me: What's your name?
Feivel: Feivel
Me: (Incredulous) Could you say that again?
Feivel: My name's Feivel
Me: Are you serious? Feivel, like the mouse?
I can be a tremendous asshole sometimes.
I went to work this morning at 8, and after a night of heavy drinking, chain smoking and little sleep, I wasn't up to par. Truth be told, I was dogging it worse than Vince Carter in Toronto before he got traded to the Nets. And that's pretty bad. The Manager actually took me aside and dressed me down for being too slow. Normally I would have been royally pissed at him because I hate to be criticized, but he was fucking right. Regardless, by 11 the traffic had slowed to the point where the Manager decided my presence was no longer, so he let me sign out. I hung around eating brunch and left around 11:15. On my way to the car I was approached by a deaf homeless person who I absolutely could not understand for the life of me. As I vainly tried to decipher his ramblings, the Manager gestured to me in a most violent manner to come back inside the diner. I thought he was just trying to save me from having to deal with a homeless person, but no. The volume of traffic had doubled since I walked out the door. In this town, your luck can change that quickly. So I got to hang around for an extra an hour, pushing food and cleaning dishes. Yay. Finally it went back to normal afternoon slowness, and I came home to sleep. Now I gotta call that girl and see what she's doing.