Slacker

I've been catching some hell for not having blogged in forever. I really do deserve it. There have been times over the last month, when I could have stopped and popped out a blog for you...but I didn't. I apologize. I miss blogging and telling all the funny and strange crap that happens.

A lot has happened over the last two months. Mom moved into a new condo, my sister-in-law moved into a new home, and finally...FINALLY...we moved off of gangster street! Hallelujah and amen! We moved into a cute apartment across town. Slightly bigger but with a lot more closet space, a dedicated kitchen and an area for my grandmother's dining table. I have missed having my grandma's table...It's been 7 years since I had to put it in storage. Anyway, there are a lot of great things about this place. Over all it has a much better feel. I didn't realize how much nicer it felt until we went back to the old neighborhood to pick up our mail. Wow, what a difference!

Part of the reason it's taken so long to get settled has been because of our cats. At the end of December we took in a stray dog. Very sweet and loving. A tiny thing really. However, us bringing this tiny thing into our house pissed off the cats. Dexter who has forever been our outside wild guy, took off. It's not unusual for him to take off really. He's always been our roamer. He's not ours, as much as we're one of his favorite food stop offs and a little affection. Bob took off a week later. Bob missing is very odd. Mario heard him meowing the next morning but couldn't find him. I'm not sure if someone took off with him, took him in or a coyote got him...hopefully it was one of the first two.

It's been over a month now and it's been so hard. I know the 5 local pounds far more than I ever thought I would, I've handed out fliers door to door, hung my clothes out for them to smell, took the dog to my in-laws for a few weeks and even consulted a psychic. I can only hope that they come home or have found someone to treat them well. I have to admit I am the jealous type though...I want my babies back. So, I keep looking. After making it a full time job for the last month, I realized that I just have to wait and see what happens. I will still hand out fliers and look, but it might be up to them to come home or someone to let them out.

One thing I have to appreciate is how good people can be. One of my friends has been there every step of the way. Handing out fliers, going to the pound with me time after time, putting up with my crying and has just been there for me in general. With Mario working sooo much, I can't have imagined dealing with this by myself. I owe her so much. Other friends and my family have really been there also, listening to me cry and letting me talk it through. One of the biggest surprises has been the people in the neighborhood. They have been so nice! So many people wishing me luck or calling because they saw a cat, or just saying they'll help keep an eye out. I guess I didn't expect so many people to be so cool. They really have been nice. I guess I've been so used to people with bad attitudes on our old street, that I didn't expect so much understanding about my missing cats.

So, I'm finally trying to get my life back to normal. I'm doing what I can to get my cats to come home, but we really needed to get our new apartment functional. It's taken until now really to get this place in any semblance of order. Mario and I spent the weekend getting through the last of the boxes and moving things around. It's definitely closer to where it needs to be. Which means that I will hopefully be spending more time blogging. 

 Here's our little Tula. Our tiny little rat who scared off two cats that were easily twice the size of her. 

Mom's New Job

This weekend Mario and I drove up to the Bay Area for my cousin and her husband's 25th anniversary party. It was a blast. A nice sit down dinner, a bartender, a DJ, a photo booth and a photographer to document...me.

Since I would be photographing the party, it only made sense to bring the photo booth up with us. The more practice we get, the more we can really improve this bitch. When we initially talked about me shooting the party, Jenn was a little unsure if she wanted the photo booth. There was going to be a good amount of people packed into her house and deck. We weren't sure if there would be room and if it would be more stressful. I understood. Bringing it up meant a lot more responsibility for us also. I didn't want anyone...mostly me or Mario to be stuck sitting with the booth, when he could be enjoying the party. Of course, once my mother found out that Jenn was unsure about using the photo booth, she made it her job to convince Jenn and Bob to have the it at the party.

On Thanksgiving, I got the call from mom letting me know that she had single handedly convinced them to have the photo booth at the party. Good job mom. I let her know it was now officially her job to get every one at the party into the photo booth.

And do you know what...the woman did her job! She pretty much tackled them at the front door and herded them into the little room the booth was set up in. She told them they had to take a photo now and then again when they were drunk. They all looked scared at first, but most did what she said. When they looked really terrified, she gave them a few minutes to get a drink in and come back for their photos.

She did a great job! She got people in there again and again. And when she had conquered getting everyone into the photo booth, she moved on to serving. I was mingling with a few people when my mother walked up with a tray of asparagus.

Mom "Care for a asparagus with some shit around it? It's good."
Me "Found a new job? and yes I'll have one."
Mom "They needed help."
Me "I'm sure they're thrilled with you offering asparagus with shit around it...they are good though. Now get back to work."

I think she found her new calling. She was having a blast bossing people around and socializing. I heard on more than one occasion "Jennifer, your aunt is hysterical!" or "Jenn, your aunt is crazy! I love her!" I suppose she was better off keeping busy, cause when she wasn't, people would hand her shots of tequila and she'd take them. My mother doesn't do hard liquor. Not to say she doesn't drink, the woman has blood type Pinot Grigio. She loves and sticks to wine. But one of Jennifer's friends fell in love with my mom at Thanksgiving and so they were doing shots.

About the time she took the fourth shot, the first three seemed to hit. She wobbled up to Lindsay and told her she was tired and wanted to go back to the hotel. The best part of Jennifer's party was the limo she had on stand-by to take everyone back and forth to the two local hotels and homes for those who live close. Lindsay put mom in the limo and sent her off, telling her to make sure she holds onto a wall when she walks to the room. In return mom told us to stay away from Isabelle..."She'll make you drink shots! Stay away from her! She's cool." Yes, mother.

Mom made it back to the hotel just fine. By the end of the night the rest of us were exhausted. We had a blast. Mom did a great job herding and serving people. She was in her element. I felt great with the photos I took and the photo booth was an absolute hit. It ran well and I even handed out a few business cards to people who were planning parties...hopefully I'll get some work up there too. Either I'll let mom run it or I'll cruise up for the party.

One thing I really loved about the photo booth was the progression of the photos. From sober to sloppy drunk. Right in the middle is the queen...I'm not sure after what shot of tequila she took these, but I love it! I might have to frame it for myself.

Conversation with My Mother

Mom "We need to talk to Laurie about staying in one of her cabins at Christmas"

Me "Yeah that would be a good idea"

Mom "I don't want to stay in the dork though"

Me "I think you mean Yurt, mom"

Mom "dork, yurt....I don't want to stay in it. I want to stay in the cabin."

Me "What's wrong with staying in the dork?"

She continued on talking. My sister's response when I told her..."Well, she's got it kind of close. There is an "R" in both words." 

How my sister single-handedly ruined Mario

Lindsay and I were raised to take care of our own belongings. If we wanted to bring something with us somewhere, we were completely in charge of making sure that belonging came home with us at the end of the trip. It was actually a pretty strict rule in our house. Mom will not carry your shit when you get tired of holding it...so really think about what you are bringing with you.

I still follow the rule out of habit. I don't want to carry other people's shit if I don't have to. Hence the reason I never make Mario carry my purse. I do recall Mario offering once or twice to carry it...I think Miss Ex might have made him carry her purse a time or two, but I immediately declined the offer. If I didn't want to carry it, I shouldn't have brought it.

This is probably the reason I can't stand when girls make their men carry their purses. I understand the quick hold to try something on. I understand you are trying to put your jacket on or have to use the restroom. I do not understand why you own a purse and brought it with you, only to make your man carry it every where for you.You decided to bring that shit...you carry it. If you didn't want to hold it, you shouldn't have brought it. It's amazing how often I see it really.

Now cut to when Mario and I were dating. We had just moved in together and were walking around IKEA looking for storage ideas. I had grabbed one of their great big blue bags for shopping. I had put all the little goodies that we would be purchasing in the bag and decided my purse could also go in the big bag. We were about half way through the store and still had four more hours to go before we made it out safely...doesn't it seem that way at least? It was about this time that Mario noticed that I had been carrying everything. He nicely offered to carry the bag. 

 

I started to hand the bag over, and then paused. "I wouldn't mind not carrying it, but let me get my purse out first."

Mario "It's fine in the bag. I've got it."

I happily handed the bag over and was enjoying the freedom of not having to carry a thing. We strolled around for another ten minutes, when I heard my phone start ringing.

Mario opened the big blue bag for me to search for my phone. Of course, my purse was at the bottom...with lots of crap on top...and tangled in the new towel bar and hooks we would soon be purchasing...I finally got my purse open...pulled out the phone...and answered on the last ring...

Me "Hello?"

Lindsay "Hey, what's going on? Why'd it take so long to answer?"

Me "Oh, we're at Ikea looking around and I couldn't get to my phone"

Lindsay "Why couldn't you get to your phone?"

Me "Does it matter?"

Lindsay "I want to know."

Me "Well, Mario had it in the bag he was carrying"

Lindsay "Mario was carrying your purse?"

I knew where this was headed "He offered to carry the big bag and my purse was in it, so yeah he was carrying my purse."

Lindsay "Laura, take back your purse and hand him back his balls!"

Once that sentence was uttered, the man has since refused to carry or even remotely hold my purse in any way. The universe had changed in his favor and my sister now had his back on something and he was fully going to take advantage of it! He has since avoided my purse like it actually has the ability to remove his balls itself. A simple thing like asking him to hold my purse while I put on my jacket is ridiculous. 

Me "Here can you hold this for a minute, babes?" 

He stares at my purse like it's dirty and covered in blood.

Me "Mario, I just have to put on my jacket. One minute tops. What is the problem?"

He lets out a long dramatic sigh and holds it with one finger making sure to keep it away from his precious balls.

Me "Thank you, honey. I know it takes a little more of your manhood every time you have to touch the purse, but I think you'll live."

To get him to hold my purse while I go to the bathroom is far too much drama. If he does, it's a huge fight. "Mario, there is no place to hang my purse in that bathroom, please hold it for five minutes. I don't want to put it on the ground" I usually get the dramatic, put out, eye roll...followed by something about his shrinking man-hood. If he does hold it, he holds it like it has the plague. I've actually come out of the bathroom to see him holding it away from his body. He's a bit on the dramatic side if you ask me.

He's not really to blame though...I fully blame my sister. He came fully trained in purse holding when I met him. He was totally fine carrying my purse for a minute or holding my purse, before my sister ran her mouth off. She's completely ruined him and there's no going back! If this is men's lib...I want none of it!

And Then There's Pay Back

As much as I bug Mario with my dipshits, he pays me back. He has one special way of making me crazy and it never fails.

It's normally after a nice lunch or dinner and I realize that we need to stop by Target for a few essentials. We get our cart. Just start to walk through a few isles. Pick up a few items on the list. That's when it happens.

Mario "We have to go home."
Me "What are you talking about, we just got here"
Mario "We have to go home now."
Me "What's the problem"
Mario leaning in "I have to go to the bathroom. We need to get home."
Me "No way. We just got here. I still have stuff on the list to get. Use the bathroom here"
Mario "Look we have to go home. I can't do this here."
Me "Babe, people do "this" here all the time. Just go use the bathroom."
Mario "I don't like that bathroom. I want to do this at home."
Me "By the time we finish shopping, pay, and drive home, it will be too late. You'll have crapped yourself. Just go to the bathroom."
Mario "If we leave now, I'll be ok."
Me "This is ridiculous. You do this every time we come here."

Sometimes we rush home. Sometimes he relents and just uses the bathroom. But it's the same conversation every. single. time. He knows I like my time at Target. I don't need to look through every isle. I don't need to spend hours there, but I don't want to be rushed by his butt either. Why agree to come here, if you're just gonna need to rush out. And what is it about this place that makes you have to poop?

It was no different this weekend. We had dinner and then headed over to get some desperately needed toothpaste and soap. We had actually made it three quarters of the way through the store, when Mario got his "DOH!" face. I knew it was going to happen.

Mario "We have to go home."
Me "No, you do this every time. Go use the bathroom."
Mario "No, I don't like those bathrooms."
Me "What's the problem? They were just being cleaned when we came in."
Mario "I just don't like to go to the bathroom here."
Me "Go!"
Mario "Fine!"

Mario stomps off....but somehow comes back looking relaxed and happy not more than a few minutes later. He couldn't have made it all the way to the front of the store and finished his business. Don't tell me he crapped himself. He must have seen the look on my face.

Mario "If I keep moving, I don't have to go to the bathroom anymore"
Me "Are you kidding me?"
Mario "No, if I keep walking at a certain speed, I don't have to poop"
Me "That's ridiculous"

I pretty much spent the rest of the time puttering around trying to find out how slow I needed to go to torture him. I'd distract him in the kitchen department with cool gadgets...then wait for the "OH! Gotta move. Hurry. gotta move!" Every time I heard it, the giggles would start. Why the man couldn't just go to the bathroom, I don't know. At least I found the humor this time, but why can't the man just go use the bathroom! He's not one of those people who has problems going to the bathroom places.

As we paid for our goods, I watched Mario dance around just twenty feet from the men's bathroom. This man is a dork! We walked to the car at his "special speed" and once in the car I started to ask about this Target bathroom aversion.

Me "So, what's the problem with the bathrooms here? You have no problem leaving your mark on other institutions...what's the problem here?"
Mario "I just don't like it"
Me "It can't be that dirty. The ladies bathroom is usually ok. I can't imagine the men's room is that much worse."
Mario "It's really not dirty at all. I just don't like it."
Me "How?"
Mario "I don't know. It's kinda creepy."
Me "What do you mean creepy? Like it feels like there's a ghost in the bathroom?"
Mario "Yes. I don't like it. It's not conducive to proper poopping"
Me "So, you're afraid of the bathroom ghost?"
Mario "Yes."
Me "You're strange."
Mario "You try pooping with a ghost right there."
Me "Why don't you just use the single bathroom by the pharmacy? it's private there, no ghosts."
Mario "There's a bathroom by the pharmacy! That's perfect! I can just go by myself! Next time I'll use that one and swing my feet around in happiness!"
Me "You're weird, but so long as you let me shop at Target without your poop issues I'll be happy. I'm glad we worked through this issue. You were making me crazy."

Breaking up...

continued

We fought to make it work...but we ultimately knew it wouldn't. I knew Saul had gotten to Colleen when her tough cop character was talking about the yard. She had planned a garden, a bbq and already had the fire pit going! I was eating delicious avocados from the yard and collecting tomatoes from the garden colleen had planted. That smooth talking Saul had us! Damn that irresistible smile of his!

As we took the "long" way home, I knew I was going to have to call Saul and tell him we weren't going to take the house. I felt guilty for lying to him. I honestly did hope that Mario would see the little house and somehow see a little glimmer of hope for the place. But it just didn't make sense to take him all the way out there for a place that just wasn't right for us.

When I got home, I explained it to Mario the situation. I was honest and told him that the house wasn't right for us, but that I had made an appointment to go back out and see it. Mario was completely confused. I told him he didn't understand how nice Saul was. Colleen and I knew that once Mario met Saul, they would be best friends. Of course Mario wasn't going for it at all. He didn't want to hear about Jon Pierre, Jacqueline Michelle,  or John Paul Jr "The baby"...Saul's three adult kids. He wasn't interested in hearing about how close the house was to In and Out Burger or Walgreen's. He wasn't interested in Saul's pro tennis player son. Or how he'll hand the buildings he owns to them. He simply didn't see the point.

There was nothing left to do but to call and break up with him. I steeled myself and dialed his number

Me "Hi Saul, it's Laura"
Saul with his nondescript accent "Well, hello Laura. How are you today?"
Me "Great thanks! How are you today?"
Saul "Oh just thinking of you."

Me "uh, oh, how nice"...awkward!

Saul "When are you coming back out to see me?"

Me "well, that's why I called. We won't be able to come out. We decided to stay closer to Burbank"

Saul "Ah, I see. Well, I understand. I thought you would be the perfect tenant for my castle"

Me "Oh, I'm sure we would have been. I'm sure you'll find someone who will be perfect."

Saul "I hope so! But they won't be you!"

Oh that flatterer! As awkward as it was, he still knew how to work the charm. I was a little bummed but relieved too. I can only imagine he's one of those managers who just "pops" by...especially with a sorority out front. 

Colleen and I will always hold a special place in our heart for Saul. I like to think that I let him down easy. We didn't get too serious before we broke up with him. Had I introduced Mario into the situation, it would have been a very tough breakup. I think we got out at the right time.

The Hunt

One of the fun parts of looking for a new place to live, is actually checking out the apartments. It's the same thing I love about being a real estate photographer. It keeps the voyeuristic part of my personality happy. (This reminds me of a guy I went out on a date with once. I explained just that. I like to check out homes and apartments. That's why my job as a real estate photographer is so perfect for that little part of my voyeuristic personality. He took that to mean I liked to watch people having sex and kept bring it up and asking me about watching people...that was the last date I went out with him.) Anyways, I love looking inside houses and apartments! I suspect this is why Colleen and I get along so well. We have spent a number of hours in the car taking the "long" way home. Just so we can look at houses and hope to catch a glimpse inside. Sometimes the "long" way home takes 20 minutes. Other times that "long" way home takes 2 hours. We will get lost just trying to find a new pretty route with pretty houses. We've pulled over for yard sales just to check out a house and we have gone to open houses to look inside. I always love deciding who between the two of us is looking for a new house and what our budget should be at this house..."One million budget for today or just 600,000? I think you and Dave need a five bedroom house for you and your triplets" You gotta have a good line or the agent won't take you seriously people.

So, it's perfect that she would be the one to come with me to look at apartments when Mario can't. I walk around decorating in my head and try to decide where my sewing and craft station will go. I seem to completely forget any and all questions I should be asking and generally walk away with more questions than I started with. She generally plays the bad cop...she is also the more level headed one. It ends up working out though. She is the one, after all, who pointed out that there was a hole in the wall and could see the outdoors from where we were standing in the living room/dining room/bedroom, while we were checking out a nice "guest house" (otherwise know as a shitty pool house).

On Monday, I called to look at a guest house. I spoke with the owner Saul. He was stern on the phone, so I didn't know what to expect from him as a landlord. I honestly had written him off. I felt like it was a little too far away and a little too good to be true...but the voyeur in me thought we should look anyway. A guest house in San Marino....way too good too be true!

Tuesday, Colleen and I headed over to San Marino. We headed towards it, drove through it, and then out the other end to Alhambra. To where I didn't want to live. We still pulled in though and searched for ten minutes trying to find Saul. The front house appeared to be a sorority house inhabited by girls who didn't know how to answer the front door when we knocked. No I am not being snide. She actually told us that she didn't know how to open the door...they used the side door. She did however point us in the direction of Saul.

We walked back to the tiny house, then around the corner to the huge private yard! There sat Saul at a folding table doing a little work. He did look stern. He introduced himself and told us to take a look around. As voyeurs do, we looked and snooped. We checked out every door and nook. It was a confusing little hobbit hole. It was old and dark. Off the kitchen there were four rooms. The living room, a room with a toilet, a room with a sink, and a room with a shower. It was interesting, but nothing grabbed me.

When we walked back out, Saul said "What do you think of your castle?" That's when he had us. Stern Saul ended up being the sweetest man I've ever met. He used the stern to get a feel for people. If he figured you were good people, he opened up and let you in. A nice accent and the warmest smile you'll ever see. Saul was a very proud father, a hard worker, and quite a flirt. He woo'd Colleen by calling her the smartest person on earth for using the bus as transportation. He woo'd me in with talk of lemon and avocado trees. Then when he knew he had us, he turned into the flirty touchy guy. We talked of travel, college and the importance of continued learning. We discussed smart phones and gave our own tips on choosing a new tenant. We must have stood there and talked for half an hour...maybe more!

The longer we stood there though, the more of a problem I was having. I knew this place wasn't for us. I didn't want to live behind a sorority(although I know Dexter would be in heaven). I didn't want to live in that dark little house. It didn't feel right for us. I did love the huge yard (Colleen had already planned one of Mario's BBQs in the yard and had already invited Saul). The only part of this place I loved besides the yard was the lemon tree, the avocado tree, the brand new washer and dryer...and Saul.

As we walked toward the sorority house and towards our car, Saul was all but begging us to move it. He said he knew good people and we were them! He asked when I could bring Mario over...although I think he was hoping that just Colleen and I would move into that back house with him. And even though I knew this place wasn't for us...I told Saul I would bring Mario over on Thursday. I knew I was lying to him and I was even more disappointed that I probably wouldn't get to talk to Saul again.

continued...

How I drive Mario crazy

There's one thing that really seems to irritate the mister. It's something that most other people tend love about me. Some times my episodes are merely one simple little thing. Other times of the month, it's a freaking epidemic. It's my ability to be a complete dip-shit.

Yes it makes for great blogging and let's be honest, he's got quite a list of dip-shit moves of his own...most of which I've told you about on the ole bloggy. For some reason though, he doesn't quite find the same humor in my dip-shits. Probably because he sees my path of destruction and that just doesn't bode well with his OCD tendencies.

Let's start with my trying to clear a table last Saturday. We were at a fundraiser at the restaurant. Things were quieting down and we decided to work on a puzzle. I started moving things around and making space. I nicely moved a few drinks to the side, grabbed the table center pieces and proceeded to dump the ketchup bottle into a friend's coffee...which dumped off the side of the table and on to his stuff. I immediately got the look from Mario. The "are you serious...why are you ruining people's things?" I did feel pretty bad, but all was ok in the end.

I then had to one up myself the next night. I was clearing a table at the restaurant. I had gotten everything off the table and reached for the drink...completely dumping a huge iced tea all over the place. This time I got table, benches, floor, and over into Mario's booth next to it. I immediately got the look again. This time it was "are you serious! Have you completely forgotten how to use your opposable thumbs woman?" I couldn't help but laugh cause I was thinking the exact same thing. Luckily I had back-up. Rene was the first to thank me for clearing the table...smart ass. At least she knew I was trying to help.

My favorite dip-shit move of the week was while Mario and I were driving around. We've been on the lookout for a new apartment. Monday there were two places I wanted to take a look at. One was a guest house I'd made an appointment for on Tuesday. The other was for a townhouse that I was still waiting for a call back from. However, I did have an address for it. So, we decided to take a run by and check out the neighborhood. If it wasn't up to par, I just wouldn't make the appointment.

I pulled out my little notebook with the addresses on it. Mario fired up the GPS and I told him the address. 1015 E Broadway. With our destination punched in, we headed off. A short drive away, we pulled off the freeway and started looking for the street numbers. 1100...1085...1062...ooh these are decent looking...there's the high school...park...1020...1018...a church...where are the townhomes?...let's turn around and look again....high school...park...1019...1017...should be right here...and there's the church again...Where the hell was 1015! It didn't seem to exist. We turned around for a third pass and I decided to check the street number I had written down...yup 1015...where could it be...then I saw the problem.."Oh.."

Mario "What?"
Me "This isn't the street."
Mario "What do you mean. We're on Broadway."
Me "The townhomes are on Harvard."
Mario "Where did Broadway come from?"
Me "mmm...I dunno."
That's when I got the sigh and the look...and I got the giggles. Where the hell I came up with Broadway, I have no idea, but I couldn't stop laughing. Just one more thing to add to the list of dip-shits. I had just given him a street willy-nilly and have no idea why I said it. I was looking at the paper afterall.

Luckily, I was only a few blocks off and the property was shitty. His irritation was short lived and he finally started to appreciate the absurdity of the situation. So, I made sure to remind him that he married this and if it weren't for my dip-shits, we wouldn't have so much adventure in our life.

I'm sure one day I'll drive the man bat shit crazy, although he really can't deny that I make life interesting...besides, this blog is full of his own dip-shits. His dip-shits just require less clean-up and gas.

WTF

Today I received a disturbing email from my mother....
~


I just called Rossmoor to get the papers for the apt lease.  I needed to know what the hours were at the office.
No problem I could come in at 8am to the office.  She asked what the date of the lease was.
I said nov 1.  she says I can come in on that day and get the papers.  WTF.
I may go in this week and get the papers started.  and see what she says.

sara 



I'm sure it's not disturbing to most people. It's really her normal random sentences, lots of double spacing, periods where there don't need to be periods, a lack of capitalization in spots. What upsets me is at the end of line three. "WTF" Where did she learn that?! My sister and I don't use it. So, I responded to her email.



yeah that is weird...You know what else is weird? You using WTF in an email. IT gives me the heebie Jeebies!


Laura 



Her response?



you are tooo cute.  I am trying to clean up my language for the grandchildren................................................



I do not want my kids saying "WTF". Besides anyone who knows her can all call bullshit on her cleaning up her language. I also love the loooonnnnggg pause at the end...it's as long as the wait she'll have before she actually gets grandchildren if she keeps saying WTF!

Demands

I hate to say it, but I actually really like working register at the restaurant on the weekends. Don't get me wrong, I hate getting up early...getting out of bed and leaving my husband behind...having to look somewhat presentable on my "days off". But once I get over my normal complaining about having to get out of bed and get dressed, I actually like the work. I get to be that happy asshole that greats every one when they come in, take your money on the way out, crack jokes and send them on their way telling them we'll see them next week. I like it.

I've really gotten to know a lot of people. We have regulars who show up on certain days. We have regulars who show up at a certain hour. One of the things that we liked about coming to the restaurant initially, was being recognized by Rene and the waiters. It's what kept us coming back. I can see that people love that recognition and like to feel like we really know them. I honestly like when they are excited to see me also.

Of course, for every ten to twenty happy people who come through, though, there is always that one person who has to bitch and moan about something. I have no problem dealing with these people. I totally believe we need to hear the tough stuff or you'll never improve. But what do you do with those customers who complain about bullshit stuff?

Enter the strange guy, mid forties, who comes in every Sunday with a newspaper under his arm. He looks disheveled like he just got out of his office job...even though it's only 9am on a Sunday. Tie is always half pulled off and all crooked, shirt usually half tucked, hair standing straight up. He never really looks happy. Tends to look serious, so I don't say a lot to him. I just keep it simple.

A few weeks after I started working here, I finally got him to talk a little. I think most people had to get used to a new person in their restaurant. I had to gain some trust. Instead of just grunting, he finally made a little small talk while he was paying.

Weird guy "I really like this music."
Me "Oh good. We had a really bad love song station for a while, but we changed it up."
Then he'd grunt a good bye and leave.

That was it. Which was fine with me cause his creepy factor is pretty high. As the weeks went on, he would talk a tiny bit more.

Weird guy "I really love this oldies station you play."
Me "Oh good...thanks"
Weird guy "Yeah"
Then he'd grunt a little and leave.

A month or so passes and he comes in every Sunday like usual. It's the same every time. He likes the music. Grunt. Leave. This time though, he says a little bit more.

Weird guy "I really love this station. They play a lot of songs that the oldie radio station doesn't play."
Me "Yeah, it's got a good mix of songs."
Weird guy "I used to sell music to businesses, so I have a very sensitive ear. This is nice."
Me "Well, I'm glad you like the station" (Man this guy needs some socialization. He seems to be a bit excited about an oldies station.)

One day though, something was different. No not him. He still walked in, grunted, ate, and came up to pay.

Weird Guy "The music is different."
Me "Oh, ah, I suppose so. I can't really here the music up here very well."
WG smiling "Oh it's different. I used to sell music, so I have a very sensitive ear. I dont' like it"
Me "Well, I'm sorry"
Then he grunted and left.

The next week, like clock work, he was back disheveled as always. He paused at the door, then went in and sat down. I waited for the strangeness. He didn't disappoint.

WG smiling in a very creepy way "Ya know, I really don't like the music you have playing here. I want the oldies station back"
Me "I'm sorry. I'll let the owner know."
WG "I used to sell music, so I have a very sensitive ear. I prefer the oldies station."
Me "Ok, I'll let her know."
WG "Next week, if I come in and it's not the oldies station, I'm not coming back."
Me pausing and trying not to say good, "Wow, well, I'll let her know."
WG in the happiest voice "Well, off to three more church services! I've already been to two."
Me "Ok, have a great day."

I did tell Rene. She was as shocked as me with this weirdo. Was he serious?  Well, we kind of found out the next week.

WG pauses inside the door and then decides to walk in. He sits at the table to eat. I really can't here the music from where I am, so I really have no idea what station is playing. From where I stand, I can see him order, so I assume that the music is ok. Wrong. He walks back like he's going to use the restroom, but then thinks better of it and comes up to the register.

WG "You know I have a very sensitive ear, and I don't like this station you are playing"
Me...no shit. I've heard about your sensitive ear before "Oh, I'm sorry. I let the owner know last week. It must have slipped her mind"
WG "Next week, if the station isn't back to the oldies station, I won't be back. I'm serious."
Me "Ok I'll let her know."
When he comes back up to pay, he acts like he never acted like a spoiled brat.
Me "Well, besides the music, how was your meal?"
WG "Oh great as always!"
Me "Good good. Well, have a nice day."
WG "off to services!"

I'm curious how his fellow church people feel about his threatening a restaurant to get the music he preferred? What a jerk! I couldn't wait for the next weekend!

He came in for the next three weeks as if nothing had happened. I kept waiting for the threats. There were none. I'm not sure if he realized how weird his threats were or he couldn't find any other restaurants that had the station he wanted, but he kept coming in like nothing was wrong. Finally this weekend, I noticed that the station was back to the oldies. Good. I really don't know what else to say to this guy. Luckily, he's been quiet about it, but you never know. After he finished eating on Sunday, he came up to the register...

WG smiling and happy "I just love this song! Such a great song!"
Me "Yeah"
WG "This is just a great station!" kind of swaying with the music.
Me thinking this guy is sooo weird! You can't even here the music up here! "I'm glad you got your station back."
WG "I used to sell music to businesses, so I have a very sensitive ear to music and am very particular."
Me "wow. Enjoy your services."

He walked out as if he had won. I guess he has.  Luckily he wasn't that bad...he just sets the "crazy" alarms off. If it starts to get boring, I might have to change the station for a few weeks to see what happens! When you are a business open to the public, you have no choice but to let the crazies in.  I just wonder what other situations are going to come through those doors!