6.29.2006

Kathy, I'm Not a Nazi

I owe an apology to Kathy the catering coordinator. (If that's her real name, which it is not.) I did not in any way mean to imply that Kathy's work annoyances were unfounded. And I want her to know that I do care if the restaurant loses money on Dora, I just saw her in a new light. I love "Kathy". She's a beautiful woman and I wouldn't intentionally do anything to hurt her.

I haven't written in a few days. The manic burst of energy that marked the beginning of my blogging has coagulated into a semi-depression. Additionally my computer was infected with over 200 malicious scripts. I tried to download some software for my new phone and ended up with a PC that acted like a spastic colon, alternately spewing diarrhea and bogged down with constipation.

My Good Friend Kevin turned me on to a band called The Clientele. As usual his musical taste proves to be as sublime as his prose. The Clientele's dreamy, mellow brand of pop has me vowing to become a regular "client" of their musical services. (
Feel free to use that, Merge Records.)

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6.24.2006

Five Oaks

Today I delivered a catering order to a town thirty miles or so to the east of my city. It's actually quite rare for us to cater to a residence and even rarer to travel that far. But this was a special customer. Let's call her Dora. Dora works for a company I'll call the Health Integration Group or HIG. Dora orders lunch several times a week for meetings of the doctors that make up HIG. She was having some kind of graduation party for a relative. Kathy the catering coordinator hates Dora for several reasons. First, she will call and order lunch for seven, when our minimum order is ten. She will ask that each entree be cut in half and demands knives, forks, plates and napkins for fourteen. She requests that her fruit salads have no honeydew melon in them and that her green salads are without onions. Dora has been known to call and change her order right up to an hour before delivery. The restaurant's Co-owner, who I'll call Tom, makes Kathy accede to Dora's demands because he claims she is our most important account. In terms of number of orders she certainly is, but Kathy is convinced that we are losing money after taking into account the reduced volume and extra labor, not to mention the substantial discounts that Tom gives her.

Using a Mapquest printout provided by Dora, I set out to find her home. A little longer that thirty minutes later I pulled into the Five Oaks Trailer Park. I spotted Dora flitting around outside of what appeared to be a clubhouse. I pulled the van up to the curb and had a look around. This wasn't a low-end trailer park. It was clean and uncluttered with small oak trees not much bigger than saplings dotting the grounds. The immature trees and lack of any other planned landcaping made it a sad, desolate space. The inside of the clubhouse was also clean and without much extraneous decoration. Just across from the door was a table with a big collage of photographs of a girl along with many friends. It was propped up on an easel. A couple of big homemade signs hung from the walls saying "Congratulations Tina." There was a seating area with a sectional couch and a large screen TV tuned to Great American Country's Top 20 Countdown. I set up the food and Dora paid me in cash. "Quite a nice little community you have here," I said, only half lying. Dora has always been nice to me and I could give a shit if the restaurant loses money on her.
She's not the kind of person one generally feels sorry for, but looking back on today, I have a new kind of sympathy for her.

In a reflective mood, I pulled out of the park and headed back towards my city. I avoided the expressway and stuck to the surface roads, taking my time coming home.
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6.23.2006

I wish my brother George was here.

I'm trying to decide the direction I want to take this blog. Do I want it to be confessional, not sparing any embarrassing detail or do I want to hold things closer to the vest? If I write about all of my dark secrets is it ok to reveal those of my friends and acquaintances? For whom am I writing? I have always thought my best writing was done with My Good Friend Kevin in mind as an audience. (Why do I feel like every time I use the phrase "my good friend Kevin" I sound like Liberace wishing his brother George was present? Damn it).

Is my family going to be reading this? How about my coworkers? Should I affect the manner of an unreliable narrator? That would be a good writing exercise and would keep me entertained, but is anybody going to be reading this anyway? If not, I'd call that masturbation. I think I'm just going to figure it out as I go along. Consistency is overrated.


The Detroit Tigers won the fifth of their last six inter-league games tonight against the St. Louis Cardinals 10-6. In his post-game news conference, Tigers manager Jim Leland, who barely opens his mouth when he talks, said "They play their fannies off," by way of praising the Cards. Nice language, skipper.
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6.22.2006

Destiny 2

I got out of the shower this morning and spied a tiny frog hopping across my floor. I trapped it under a plastic cup then finished drying off. After dressing I dumped some nails out of an old peanut butter jar and washed it out. I then went outside and dug up a divot of dirt and grass and put it in the bottom of the jar. After I put the frog in I was able to get a good look at it. It was a very pale green/brown with two parallel black stripes going down its back. From the tip of its face to the end of its toes it was about 6 or 7 millimeters long; almost too small, it seemed, to have a working brain capable of any conscious experience.

I brought it into work with me and showed a few people. I told Kathy the catering coordinator that I had a new pet and asked her if she would be offended if I named it Destiny II after her beloved Himalayan cat. She was very busy and therefore unimpressed. I left my car in the city lot with the jar securely strapped back under the seat belt. I left the windows open a crack and went and delivered a couple of catering orders. When I got back to my car a couple of hours later I was suddenly overcome with fear of the finding the frog dead. I didn't look until I got home. Thankfully, it was still alive, but I had trouble coaxing it out of the jar, so I left it upside-down in the front yard. Later, after a long nap, I went out and found it empty. It was late afternoon and everything looked especially vivid in the sunlight. I took a walk down the dirt road a ways then came home, enjoyed a cup of Kroger brand instant coffee and listened to "Eyes Open," the new Snow Patrol record. Eat your heart out, Meek Journal.
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6.21.2006

My First Post

I'm not sure if I'm up to keeping a blog, but My Good Friend Kevin just started one and in order to post a comment to his, I had to register my own. I was transfering my clothes from washer to dryer when I came up with Rommel's Asparagus. I have a vague interest in European history and military tactics and I like the image of sharpened spikes planted to hinder glider landings, but mainly I thought it was a fun reference without a lot of substance.

America's Got Talent is on in the background as I write this. I'm ashamed to say I'm enjoying it. There have been a few awkward moments though, such as the eight year old comedian who complained that boys her age "smelled like cookies."

I embarassed a coworker today. The restaurant I work for gets deliveries of paper products from a company called Belmont out of Detroit. Kathy the catering coordinator started jumping up and down chanting "Belmont's here, Belmont's here!" The Belmont driver is a sixtyish African-American man, short of stature, who keeps an unlit cigar in his mouth at all times. In front of the guy I said, "Kathy, I don't think his name is Belmont, he's a human, with a name, and feelings."

I take back what I wrote about America's Got Talent. The Rapping Granny just got a standing ovation and the British judge said, I shit you not, "Rapping Granny, you are what this show is all about." I'm pretty sure this is not what Einstein had in mind when he invented the television.
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