Archive | July, 2012

Holy Cow, I love you!

30 Jul

I’ve got a pretty great job, if I do say so myself. I spend my days around one my favorite things in life- cheeseburgers. When you hate your job, or dread going to work each day, or bring stress home with you, the whole quality of life thing really degenerates fast, so it’s good to be in a place that makes you happy. And I am.

We recently celebrated the one-year anniversary of our little burger joint, and it really made me think about all the things that place means to so many different people. It’s more than just a paycheck – it’s a tiny family. We all care about the success our little burger joint. A successful first year for a small business is really quite a feat.

The servers all chipped in and had two bobble heads made in the likeness of our two owners. They were pretty funny, I must say. We also brought breakfast for everyone, and had a cake at around four. It was a nice day.

Over the last year, as we were learning and finding our stride, we have made a lot of friends and seen a lot of stuff. So here are a few of the highlights.

The old man who used to come to the old Bob’s Fish and Chips with his son in the seventies. Now his son is dead, and he sat tearing up on the patio while eating his burger because of all the happy memories it brought back.

That time we tried to serve breakfast- it was a total fiasco.

Right around the time we opened someone pooped on our back door.

When the feral cats of the neighborhood started hanging out at our dumpster- and reproducing like crazy. We still have about seven cats that we feed and water. We call them the Holy Kitties.

The brother and sister duo that stopped in during their road trip from California to Florida.

When Mark Ruffalo came in on opening night.

When we got the new air conditioner for the kitchen and it caused the computers to crash.

The kidnapping. Late one night we were cleaning the restaurant and a car sped down the street and haphazardly into the parking lot next door. The back door opened and a woman fell out. The driver then put her back in the car and sped away.

That time a bus pulled up and unloaded all of the residents of a local nursing home into the restaurant. (This now happens on the regular, but that first time was a doozy.)

That time a hooker and a pimp came in to get out of the cold, and when they were asked to leave the man started screaming about how the restaurant had rats and that he was “too fucking classy” to eat there.

When we bought the bad batch of pens and they started exploding everywhere and on everyone.

Our salad cook was waiting at the bus stop after a day in the hot kitchen in the middle of summer when a religious group, thinking she was homeless (she did look pretty rough), gave her a paper bag with “God Loves You” written on it and containing a mashed up PB&J, a bottle of water, and cookies.

The little kid who, as he was putting his burger into a to-go box, said “See ya later”- to the burger!

The little boy who told me ‘Happy Mother’s Day.”

The Finnish motorcycle gang who stopped in during their tour of old Route 66.

When one of our servers told a guest to “chill out and relax” when she was very clearly not into being chill or relaxed.

When the salad cook accidentally coated a server from head to toe in cucumber Greek yogurt dipping sauce. That was awesome.

When one of our bosses tricked a server into drinking a ranch milkshake by telling her it was a new menu item.

That time I got off working two doubles in a row and discovered that during my shift one of my coworkers had filled my purse with apples and sugar packets.

That time when they got to work to open and discovered that during the night someone had left a wedding dress drenched in human poop on the corner of the patio. That really happened, yes.

Someone once drove their car up the sidewalk and literally to our front door.

When it got really hot and we had two new air conditioner vents installed- and then the rainy season started and the vents leaked buckets of water into the dining room.

Our slew of fun and weird characters that make a second home out of the joint.

And all the ups and downs, highs and lows, that go into a year in an emerging small business.

La Tierra Mágica de Paletas de Hielo

15 Jul

On more than one occasion, I might have been known to believe some of my dreams were real. Not like psychotic stuff, but you know how sometimes you can have a dream where you act out an entire day of your life only to wake up and realize you didn’t spend an entire day at work- it was a dream- and now you have to do the whole thing over again, but for real this time. No? Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I am crazy.

Well a few years ago I went to a fun little Mexican popsicle place here in town- at least I thought I did. I haven’t been able to locate it again since.

After a while, I just thought I had dreamed about it and that it wasn’t a real popsicle wonderland (kind of like that church/casino with the catfish pond), and I guess I gave up.

But alas, yesterday I got a little victory. There haven’t been many lately so I really needed a win, I think.

The Mexican popsicle place is real.  It’s in the warzone, and I cannot wait to go get a banana and pistachio popsicle on my day off.

It’s like the universe patting me on the back and telling me I’m not entirely certifiable (although I did cry this morning because my cat, Floyd, is fixed and now I will never get to know her grand kittens- we’ll just let that slide).

So Much Stuff

8 Jul

I absolutely must have a yard sale soon. I just don’t know if I can part with Elvis, though.

The Little Things

5 Jul


Someone drew me a squid on the back of their check. It’s pretty awesome.

This Must Be The Place

5 Jul

In keeping with this year’s theme, “And now for something completely different,” I packed up all my belongings and moved out of my lovely, old, Victorian neighborhood and into an apartment with the boyfriend. Now I live in Midtown next to a grocery store, pet store, hardware store, Dollar General, a jazzercise studio, Taco Bell and Subway. Yikes.

I’m handling it surprisingly well, if I do say so myself.

Well, barring that massive meltdown I had over the last week.

The moving day was set for Monday- my day off and usually our ‘date day.’ When Sunday night rolled around my brain came to a complete stop. COMPLETE. I couldn’t think of basic phrases or sentences.  Needless to say, I had a stupid horrible night at work. When it was all over, two of my best friends called to tell me good luck, and to check in to make sure I was ok. They know me just far too well. After some crying, screaming- and I think I threw something at some point- I finally got to sleep.

Enter Monday- the moving day. I was running behind in getting my stuff packed into my buddy’s van, and I needed help. The boyfriend was off cleaning his apartment. If I had known just how dirty that apartment was, I would’ve begged him to keep cleaning but instead I asked him to come by. As I got all my memories stuffed into the van, I was overwhelmed again by those same waves of sadness that come every time I move. I have a LOT of history, and a lot of evidence.

When we entered the apartment with the first vanload of stuff, I immediately walked outside and started crying. It was FILTHY- just filthy. After a bit of a screaming match, I rolled up my sleeves, swallowed my anger, and started cleaning. I took the next three days off of work to simply clean the place, unpack, organize my shoes and comic books, and try to hide my crazy from the rest of the world (if only for a minute.)

It’s crazy how well two people can compromise when one of them is in a completely psychotic and irrational state. It’s also crazy how far a little jewelry, flowers, and Rod Stewart Radio on Pandora can go to calm down an angry woman.

This week comes the fun part. Painting, new furniture, new linens, new stuff. Shopping is usually a good way to soothe me.

I have some great friends, and it was definitely a group effort to keep me together throughout the whole thing. On Wednesday one of my buddies discovered me sitting beneath the bridge to my old house in a pool of my own tears. He helped me crawl though a window, as I had locked my keys inside the house. On Thursday another buddy had to come get the van out of an impossible parking space I had it in. On Friday I nearly killed myself with a garage door- but that’s another story entirely.

Lessons I learned: next time I move I’m paying someone to do it for me.


Remember- No Fireworks During the Fire Season!

4 Jul

Listening to John Mellencamp and having a little patriotic dance party before my shift tonight. Happy holiday! 🙂

Pink Houses


One Giant Leap

3 Jul


Floyd and I recently made a big decision and moved in with my boyfriend and his dog.

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