Peligro Resacas

I have been trying to expand my Spanish vocabulary. I have mostly been doing this through reading billboards, other types of signs, pamphlets, and announcements given while riding public transportation. It has come in handy when I try to impress co-workers from Honduras and Mexico. Although they generally look at me like I am loca, or crazy for those of you who don't know the Spanish language.

While on my yearly vacation to Cocoa Beach, Florida this past July, I came upon a sign on my way to the beach. It read, Peligro Resacas. When translated into English it means Danger Riptides. A Riptide, also known as an undertow, is a strong channel of water flowing away from the shoreline, typically through the surf line. These currents are a source of danger (hence peligro) for people, dragging swimmers away from the beach and leading to death by drowning when they attempt to fight the current and become exhausted. But recently, this phrase brought new meaning to me.

There are many different personalities (personality disorders would be more appropriate) when one works in an office building with more than 1,000 people. Being the professional that I am, I try to overlook the bullshit, and just do my job. But ultimately, I am sucked into drama that I have nothing to do with, nor care about (peligro resaca).There are a few nut jobs that try to get me involved in their craziness. I try to swim along the shoreline to avoid getting sucked into the undertow, but alas...it leads to death by drowning my sorrows in vodka at the end of the day.

There is the person who asks you a question, and when you give them the answer they don't believe you. You know what?! This is why there is the internet, and other hard copy reference materials. Figure it out for yourself. Don't suck me into your stupidity. There is the person that complains about others being loud, and they are the loudest person in your area. Not only by talking over cubicles, crunching snacks, crackling open that bag from which their crunchy snacks come, but also invading personal space with scents such as patchouli. Three feet of personal space is the required norm.

Oh, and when you point the finger at others, there are always three pointing back at you. There are those that complain about the job. I have four words for you. Get a new job.

Wow, that WAS exhausting. I am going to swim along the shore, and tread water when I get to a calm place. Peace.

Shamrock Out With Your Cock Out!

Every year my family and I meet in Cocoa Beach, Florida for my mother's birthday. Every year new places pop-up to visit (drink good beer). A couple of years ago, right across the street from the condo we call home for a week, a place called Nolan's opened. A nice little Irish pub actually owned by Irish folk. They have a weekly trivia night. The topics range from music to sports to Irish trivia. The best part of the festivities, for me anyway, is naming one's team.

We only visit for that 1 week yearly. So for one night, for the past 2 years, my family and I have played on this one blessed day. You may wonder why I might call it a blessed day when religion plays no part in my life. I am here to tell you. The winner of the trivia contest receives a $50.00 bar tab. Unfortunately, that has not happened for me and mine. There are other winners. Best team name and worst team name. No, you don't get free drinks, but you do get goofy prizes while the whole pub boos or praises your team name.

That's right! We have now won 2 years in a row (the week that July 17th falls) for worst team name. This year we were team Shamrock Out With Your Cock Out (Thanks D.). And, the year before we won with the team name Erins' Go Braghless.

Personally, we had the most imaginative names. The name that won the first year we played was the F.S.. They didn't use the actual words, the fuck sakes, they had to pussy out with an acronym.

I can't wait for next year...the boobs that shake the barley? If anyone has any suggestions for next year I will share the pot of gold. That is, the crap one finds on the ground on St. Patty's Day left by those lovable drunkards some liken to Irish. Everyone knows St. Patrick's Day is an American made holiday. But, if we win with a suggested name, the Guinness is on me.

NPR Hearts PBR

Pabst Blue Ribbon is now a sponsor of National Public Radio's show All Things Considered. Actually, they have been for a while. Is it just me, or did NPR become less highbrow with this latest addition to it's sponsors? I had always thought of NPR as catering to the intellectual crowd. Those that like fine wine, classic literature, and the fine arts. Pabst Blue Ribbon conjures up dive bars, knife fights, and bikers...not the intelligentsia. When I think of All Things Considered, I think of the wine snob drinking Chateauneuf-du-Pape, not the local drunk drinking Pabst.

PBR was founded in 1844 by Jacob Best in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Milwaukee, a place you can go see the Brewers play baseball. Where inevitably, you will see many a drunk fan with no shirt, painted body parts, fighting in the bleachers. The ball park is now called Miller Park (the Miller Brewing Company took over production of PBR in 1999). Milwaukee does not bring to mind left-leaning suits on their drive home slamming some brewskies, listening to a mix of news, interviews, commentaries, reviews and offbeat features. Okay...maybe during the offbeat features.

I find it hard to believe that any of the three hosts, Robert Siegel, Michele Norris or Melissa Block are pounding Pabst after a hard days broadcast. I do however remember the movie 'Blue Velvet', where the characters Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper) and Jefferey Beaumont (Kyle MacLachlan) have a heated exchange regarding beer. The seedier Booth asks Beaumont, "What kind of beer do you like to drink, neighbor?" Beaumont replies, "Heineken." Booth shoots back with "Heineken? Fuck that shit! Pabst Blue Ribbon! " I could believe the hosts of All Things Considered sipping Heinekens. But chugging PBR? I think not.

I know it is only an advertiser (sponsor). In the same way I also know that Andi McDowell, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Beyonce really don't use Loreal Hair Color from the box for their lovely locks. They go to a professional who uses only the finest products to obtain that color and sheen. But then again, I have heard using a beer rinse on one's hair makes it stonger and fuller.

So here's to you All Things Considered, a toast with PBR in hand, to a stronger and fuller hour of NEWS!

Sky Masterson and Nathan Detroit Return in 'Bros and Bitches'

Okay, this blog is not about a sequel to the fabulous Guys and Dolls. There is no sequel to this musical (none that I am aware of anyway). But, I did hear Guy Ritchie is working on a remake starring Justin Timberlake, which I will TOTALLY go see on opening day. JT is H-O-T! He brought sexy back. Or, at least lyrically, is bringing sexy back.

A question I do have is whether or not JT will be paid with a marker aka an IOU? That is, if the state of California is footing the bill. That's right, the state controller of California has been forced to pay taxpayers, local governments and small businesses with IOU's, or markers as they are known by the gamblers of the 1955 film. Maybe the Governator's favorite musical is Guys and Dolls. Maybe he thinks of himself as Sky Masterson whose markers were always good. Nathan Detroit's not so much. Poor Miss Adelaide.

The state of California has decided these taxpayers, local governments and small businesses must not need cash in these tightened economic times. They only need a marker. If the suave Sky Masterson can get the dowdy Sergeant Sarah Brown to go with him to Cuba, then why can't California get it's contractors, citizens, and the like to swallow the same lines? "Something you want for something I want."..."Have dinner with me tomorrow night."..."Keep this. It's my marker."..."My IOU for one dozen genuine sinners delivered as described." Oh...that's right. Americans (Californians included, sans the Cuban and Cuban-Americans thanks to Obama) still can't get to Cuba without first going through another non-American port.

The majority affected by these shenanigans are those that have contracts with the state for certain services. For example, the company that provides french fries to the California prison system. They received an IOU. They can take it to one of three major banks who will honor the marker, only through this Friday. Then, perhaps they may be able to pay their employees if one of these banks is the same bank from which they write their payroll checks. Otherwise, they will be at the mercy of credit unions, check-cashing storefronts, and Craigslist entrepreneurial enthusiasts offering .85 cents on the dollar for these markers.

It must be known too that Ah-nold wanted to borrow millions from local governments and release some prisoners early to save money. I applaud the Governator for trying to cut the budget. But at the same time, perhaps he should barter with McDonald's for french fries. That would be a win-win situation. What inmate wouldn't want Mickey D's fries? Everyone is "Lovin' it" on the outside.

I have an idea Mr. Schwarzenegger. If you love your state so much, why don't you marry it? Sorry, that was so 3rd grade. But seriously, why not take some of those millions earned from your films, and pay down California's debt? It would be like giving back to your community.

Sincerely, and committed to my community,

Pickles

Fallen Idol

Deep in the heart of Texas there are rumblings going on. American Idol, that piece of shit show on Fox, is holding auditions for it's new season (number 9 from my shoddy research) in Arlington this Friday. I know this because it is all over the news here in Texas. The news reports are not about how or when one might audition, but about the faux pas AI made about where the auditions are to be held. That's right folks, those people who will be bringing you the next fodder for entertainment television apparently do much shoddier research than myself.

The AI website says Dallas-Cowboys Stadium is the location of the auditions this Friday. However, Cowboys Stadium is located in Arlington, not Dallas. "Live Large. Think Big." is Dallas' new slogan and it represents the "can do" mentality of the city. Dallas is diverse, luxurious, and bustling. So says the AI website. It also says, both registration and auditions will take place at the Cowboys Stadium. It then gives the address: Dallas Cowboys Stadium, One Legends Way, Arlington, TX 76011. Hmm, which is it AI? Dallas or Arlington? Dallas is 27 miles from Arlington.

To Texans, 27 miles is just a hop, skip, and a jump. But to most AI dream seekers, this may be a huge obstacle. I have only watched AI once, and it is 10 minutes of my life I will never get back. The 10 minutes I did watch was an early part of the season (season 2, if I am remembering correctly) when they show all the wannabe idols who are sadly buffoonish, and instantly rejected. These are the people whose dreams are crushed in seconds. These are also the people who probably spent their meager nest-egg trying to get their 15 minutes of fame. I picture these folks hitching rides or their cars over-heating just to make it to the audition.

Lucky for them, AI has forewarned them about how to get to where their dreams may come true. No lie...on the AI website it says, cars are the main mode of transportation around Dallas, but there are plenty of eco-friendly options available too. Dallas Area Rapid Transit (DART) provides bus and rail transportation. A single ride costs $1.50, and a day pass is only $3.00. HOWEVER, DART will not take you to the new Cowboys Stadium in Arlington. To get there, you will need to drive. AI can't provide a shuttle?

To add insult to injury, the Arlington Convention & Visitors Bureau is orchestrating an e-mail campaign to let AI know which "bustling" city, known by the Flying A on the water tower, is the home of the new $1.15 billion stadium. If it's written on a city's water tower, the town must be bustling. Water towers are the new way to get a town on the map, and maybe even on the travel channel. Diane Brandon, the bureau’s vice president of marketing and public relations says, "It’s going to take a little while before it’s in the public consciousness that the stadium is in Arlington." I am thinking, if in a state where football is more important than education, people will figure it out.

I have an idea AI. Why don't you just pick out all those rejects before you belittle them in front of millions of Americans, put them on the Greyhound headed to Austin, where every Wednesday night they hold auditions for Stripper Idol at Palacio, a gentlemens club. Put these people out of their misery tout suite. You can do society a favor and show these poor souls where they will eventually end up after their dreams are crushed, the strip club.

Cruise Director Julie McCoy I'm Not

Somehow working at a restaurant in the downtown area has given people the idea that I know a lot about what is going on in the city on any given day. Well, I am here to tell you that I don't. I am just the lowly waitress bringing your food and drink. I wait tables at a restaurant across from a park that hosts all types of festivals, concerts, and the like. The restaurant is also three blocks from an arena which hosts sporting events, concerts, comedy shows, and other such happenings. Three blocks in the other direction is an amphitheater where many concerts are held. Whenever one of these venues has something going on the restaurant becomes much busier. That I like. It puts more cash in my otherwise empty pockets. What I don't like is the bombardment of seemingly innocent questions I am asked during these rushes. (For those of you who have never worked in the restaurant industry, a rush is when it is so busy you don't have time for anything but the waiting of tables.)

Some of the questions asked are so idiotic it makes me want to slap people. I am going to the concert up the street. Do you know what time the doors open? No, but maybe if you look at the ticket YOU bought that may have the information you need. Do you know what time the music ends? No, but maybe you could check the schedule on your iPhone. If you don't have a one I will rent you mine for fifty cents a minute. Where can we park if we are going to the show? In a parking space near the venue. Do you know who is playing? Okay, this is usually asked when there is a free concert at the earlier mentioned park, but I don't know. I am at work.

Other nights, or days when there may be something going on further downtown, I am often asked random questions that only the employees or members of the chamber of commerce are privy to knowing. Do you know what is going on downtown? Nope, just here working today. Hope you find the answer. There are a bunch of streets closed downtown. Do you know what is going on? No, I had to work today so I didn't look to see what magical event I might be missing.

A favorite most hated question is asked when I am generally very busy. You may notice I am busy working, because I am your waitress. But hey, ask away. Can you take our picture? Sure, just let me wipe the sweat off my brow so I don't fuck up your nice digital camera, and right after I take the orders, bring the drinks, and serve the food to my other tables. You know, those other people you could have asked to take your picture, the ones just sitting around at the next table not working.

However, the icing on the cake has to be questions regarding whether or not I have some crayons or something that will keep your children at bay while you try to eat a nice dinner. It is not my responsibility to keep your children entertained. Those are called baby-sitters. A novel concept...I know.

Try to remember people, I am your waitress. I am not a cast member on your TV cruise ship. I am not your cruise director Julie McCoy, here to help you when you can't help yourself. I am not your bartender Issac Washington, who had a right answer for everything. Nor am I Yeoman-Purser Burl "Gopher" Smith, who went on in real life to become a US senator, helping to create the laws regarding sound ordinances, closing of streets, and where parking is allowed or not allowed. (On a federal level, but you get the idea.)

Get a baby-sitter, be informed about your leisure activities, and let me do my job. I'm busy!

I Want My Two Dollars

Rumor has it that Oprah may have said, in these hard economic times people should tip waiters 10-15%. I can't find any confirmation of this rumor but, it seems that it is all over the interweb, and on the mind of every waiter I know. I know a lot of waiters, and they are all cursing Oprah when tipped on the 1960's end of the tipping spectrum. What I did find, is that it may not have been Oprah, but a writer for O, The Oprah Magazine. The article allegedly was printed in 2002. I can't access this article from my computer because it must be paid for before reading. Since those jerk-offs have been leaving me 10% lately, I neither have the resources to pay for said article, nor do I want to give her and her empire any of my less than normal cold hard cash. Regardless, knowing what I don't know of Oprah ( I know nothing), she had to have known what was printed in her magazine.

I have been experiencing the effect of this alleged rumor, and it is not making me happy. I fully understand that times are tough, but if you feel that tipping is not within your budget, eat at home. If you feel the need to go out to eat, then go to your local fast food restaurant where tipping is not expected (or taxed based on your sales regardless of the tips made). The creepy Burger King king will give you free Star Trek glasses if you order certain items at his restaurant. You don't have to tip, and you get something for free that you can use at the dinner table.

What I did find out is that Oprah says to tip 15-20%. This can be found on her website. Here's the rub, and I quote, "Normally, 15 to 20 percent of the total bill—20 percent for a first-class place." What the fuck Oprah? If you receive proper service, then tip the 20%. Get your head out of those elitist clouds. Okay...okay. Some of you may be saying, "what if the service is bad?" Then yes, you may choose to tip poorly, or not tip, dependent on the degree of bad. Just know that waiters in Texas, at least, make $2.13 an hour.

So, to all you a-holes that have been leaving me a $4.00 tip on a $40.00 check, I want my two dollars.