Holy Helicopter

It was around 6 a.m. on a beautiful Thursday morning. The sun had just risen and the view was stunning. I couldn't have asked for a more peaceful way to start my day. As I sat at an empty table at Ned's, I peered out to the ocean and focused in on what appeared to be a stumbling drunk man trying to get the front door open. This man, whom I assumed to be homeless by the looks of him, ended up being a regular named "Frank." Yeah, we'll just call him Frank. And in that instant when Frank stumbled into my perfect morning view, I knew that this was just the beginning of a weird day and the very ending of my so called "peaceful" morning at Ned's.

So as I watched "Frank" struggle with the door, my busboy came over and tried to intercept the situation before it got messier than Frank's getup. He (the busboy) wasn't successful. Frank managed to barge in and slam right into a nearby table while simultaneously and unintentionally squishing the busboy behind the door.

Frank-1: busboy-0

Frank then staggered in my direction and muttered something about wanting to eat some "Pegs and Roast", which I assumed translated to "Egg's and toast." The busboy then came over and tried to make Frank leave (apparently he had been kicked out the previous day), but good ole Frank wasn't having it. He wanted his damn "Pegs and Roast", for cryin out loud!

So after about two minutes of slobbery deliberation, Frank was granted his "Pegs and Roast", just this one last time.

Frank-2 : busboy-0

Frank eventually sat down (right next to me) and began to stuff his face. And while doing so, Frank made strange grunting and humming noises. Oh, and did I mention that Frank smelled of liquor, body odor and grandma perfume? Well he did. And on top of his refreshingly hungover scent, he wore a blood stained white collar dress shirt, his shoes were unlaced, and his hair (or what was left of it), was a mess. Frank was quite the sight. Just what every woman wishes she sees first thing in the morning, right? As a matter of fact, I couldn't justify what I was seeing before my eyes, it was too friggin' early for that kind of crap. I decided to roll with it. Besides, Frank seemed to have mellowed out now that he was granted his one last meal. No one was going to get hurt, at least for the moment anyways...

I couldn't take the noise (coming from Frank) or the smell (of Frank) anymore, so I decided to get up from my table and do some work behind the counter (which was far from Frank). And while Frank worked on his meal I figured it was the perfect time to get away without him noticing. I was very wrong. Frank must have had some drunken radar that specifically zeroed in on me. I mean the man could not take a hint. But I guess he was drunk and apparently drunk people (named Frank), don't take hints.

Frank stood up from his unfinished breakfast, crumbs of toast were all over his mouth and other various parts of his face, and ketchup soiled his already blood stained shirt.

He then walked right over to me and said "Hey, have you ever heard of the band called "Cheap Trick?" His stale breath surrounded all of my personal spaces. Gross. "Yeah", I said, "I know Cheap Trick. They're cool."

"Oh, they're soooo old, but they're cool and old, like me. And they sing a song that I want to dedicate to you and I am going to sing it to you right now. Tell me if you've heard of it, okay?"

"Ummm yeah, okay, I said." I looked beyond him and caught a quick glance at the handful of customers in Ned's. I noticed all eyes were on me and I automatically regretted looking. And Frank began to sing.

"I'd love you to love meeeee. I neeeed yoouuu to want meee. I'd love it if you'd looove meee." Oh, pleaseeee wont you loove meeee."

Oh good god. It was horrific and he clearly butchered the song.

"Yeah, I know that song. It's a nice umm, song." Oh did I hope he was finished.

And then he told me how even though he was old and cool, he could still dance like he was young and that he specialized in particular dance called "The Helicopter." I said a silent prayer to God and asked him to please make this man stop. Please, please don't let him show me this helicopter crap, I begged.

"Lemme show you how I can still dance. I am old but don't let it fool you. I'm damn good at "The Helicopter." He then showed me how you have to wind up to get in the perfect helicopter spin and then leap in the air at just the right moment before you then unwind in the opposite direction.
"Please don't hurt yourself or anyone else, I said. And be careful not to hit the tables."

"Oh, I wont, cuz I'm really good at it."

He wasn't. He fell and dramatically knocked over an entire table and several chairs, and hit his head on the way down. The sound of crickets echoed throughout Ned's as Frank laid silently on the ground. Needless to say his helicopter days were long behind him.

After Frank sobbed to me about his woes and confessed his love for me, I finally was able to escort him out of the restaurant, peacefully. And apparently after he left someone called the police on him and he was arrested for giving "The bird" to some people and being an all around public nuisance. Yep, just another day in the office for me. And that's all folks!

Cal State Fullerton after dark-a column

Hey Y'all, I know this has nothing to do with serving and waiting but again, bear with me. It is a column I wrote in my opinion writing class about CSUF at night. Our teacher chose this topic and this was my first attempt of ever writing a column. As it turns out, I got a 99 out of 100 points possible. Who would have guessed? Especially because the topic is damn boring. Anyways, here it is. Enjoy.

I am here in College park’s cozy Nutwood Café sipping my chai tea, just after seven on a Monday evening. Prior to my being in the café I wandered aimlessly around campus trying to get a taste of what goes on after dark here at CSUF.  And I will tell you what I have discovered:  Not a thing.  There was absolutely nothing going on so I decided to hit up good old Nutwood Café for my usual cup of tea.  

Monday evenings here at CSUF sure are empty and calm. The younger (and much louder) crowd seems to not be here and I like that.  Some may call me boring for preferring the empty and calm over the loud and lively but I’m left wondering, aren’t we here for our education anyway?  I mean, how are you supposed to learn with all that noise?

 

Speaking of noise, as I’m sitting here in the café, these two ladies are discussing their wedding plans in my left ear and the Lakers game is blaring in my right ear. I really want to catch the Lakers game; after all, this is game five of the playoffs.  And I’m wondering if the “Lake-show” is going to live up to its expectations? Or is Utah going to give them a run for their money?  Either way, the Jazz won’t be going to the finals. The Lakers own that spot.

Now that I have decided that there is not much going at CSUF this evening, I am convinced that this is where the action is. Right here in Nutwood Café, watching the playoffs and drinking my chai tea. This is the life.  The only thing that is interfering with my contentment are these wedding- crazed women to my left. They are talking so damn loud and it’s not like there’s any other seats for me to move to.

 

I feel like I am in a theatre watching two different movies at the same time, and there’s no wall separating them.  This is what my movie sounds like:

Ladies in my left ear:

“Yeah, that’s what I was telling James he should do about the suit. He should definitely just spend the money and buy one. I mean, otherwise the rental might not even fit him right and he’s going to spend a fortune either way.”

 

Lakers game to my right: (different random dudes commenting on the game)

“Shit Kobe, what the hell do they feed you?  Wheaties maybe?”

“Ahahaha, too bad LaBron is a better athlete.”

“Yeah right dude, Kobe is the best athlete in the NBA hands down.”

“Nope, LaBron is a better athlete. He’s a house. Kobe is overrated.”

 

Ladies in my left ear:

“ I really don’t like James ‘s mother. Between you and me, I think she’s a neurotic bitch.  And if she thinks she’ll be watching her grandkids she’s insane.”

“Hey, what do you think of purple and green for my wedding colors?  Don’t you think that would be a pretty flower arrangement?”

Lady, I could care less about your flower arrangements and your purple and green colors. In fact, the only colors I care about are purple and gold now shut the hell up so I can hear the game!  This is what I feel like saying to the two wedding crashers to my left.

I instead sip my chai tea and go to my happy place, the one that doesn’t involve women discussing their weddings. And when I come back to reality, they are gone. Yes! They are finally leaving. Too bad the game is pretty much over.

The Lakers manage to eliminate the Jazz from finals 107-96. No surprise there. This season the Lakers are by far the best team in the NBA and that makes for a boring season. Just about as boring as a Monday evening here at CSUF.

Apparently, I'm a Racist

Today at Ned's was quite the experience and I have no other way of putting it.

I found out something about myself that I never knew before. In all my years of living life and being you know, me, I suddenly discovered that I am a racist. Or at least according to some random insane customer I am.

Well I'll be damned(in a total hick/white-trash accent). Shoot, this here falla sure teached me a thing er two. I tell yah, we had ourselves a genius in this here restaurant I reckon. Now lets get ourselves a confederate flag, hook-up the trailer to the tow-hitch and have ourselves a party, celebrating my new found racism!

Some people really are stupid. I would use the word ignorant to describe this customer but why waste such a smart word on someone who's just plain stupid?

Curious as to how this moron came to the conclusion that I am a racist? Well, I'll tell yah.

It was a very hectic Thursday at Ned's. I run the whole restaurant on Thursdays and I am the only server. So since it was such a busy day, it was hard for me to pay extra attention to my customers. I usually chat with some of my regulars and mingle more when I have the time. But

today, I was too busy to even remember my name let alone socialize.

I had over 17 people filled tables and they all demanded something from me. It was pure madness. And in the midst of all this chaos, I had one other serious issue to tend to. I had to pee like a racehorse. So, I decided that the customers could hold their horses while I took care of business.

I was literally in the bathroom for half a minute when I returned to the dining room from the revealing door that reads "Restrooms" right smack dab on the top in bright green letter's.

And before the door closed behind me, a man grabbed my hand and aggressively shoved his bill and some money in my hand. Next he yelled "Hey are you going to take care of this or what? Where have you been? God! This is ridiculous."

I am not going to lie, I gave him the "I am flipping you off in my head right now" glare. He had it coming. He didn't have to be such a jerk. I mean seriously, why couldn't he take care of the bill with the cashier who was literally six feet away from him?

I gave Mr. jerk-face's bill to the cashier and asked them to take care of his payment. I had about 13 other people to deal with and this man was not at the top of my list of priorities if you catch my drift. Besides, he was finished, why did he absolutely need to receive his change from me personally? That's what cashiers are for.

I thought nothing of it and resumed to my duties as personal servant to all. Little did I know I had become a racist.

As I started to take some elderly folk's order, I heard a man's voice within earshot yelling, "Are you a racist or something? Why did you push my sister? Why are you so nice to everyone else but mean to me? You're a racist aren't you? Why are you a racist?"

I looked over at my poor elderly customers and apologized for the situation while in the meantime, the man was still screaming at me. And I mean, really screaming. Then I started to realize what he was saying and I became completely confused. "Racist?, I said in puzzled way. "Huh? Why am I a racist? I have no idea what you're talking about. I then looked at the guy and then I glanced over the whole restaurant and I came to the realization that Ned's was completely full of white-folk, myself included. But what the hell was he? He could have been a purple hippopotamus for all I knew or cared(he was asian, I think). Like I said, I was so busy you could have told me I was Tina Turner and I would have went with it. For crying out loud, did he really need to pull the racial card on me because I am white and had someone else give him his change?

Long story short, I kicked the man out. I told him he was acting inappropriate and threatened to call the police and so he left.

Well my friends, this is where the story ends. Now you know how I have become a racist. If you don't want this to happen to you, never let the cashier give your customer their change, especially if you're white. Now please excuse me, I need to put on my white cape.

A follow-up to a follow-up

Just in case you're wondering....

The whale watching lady that committed suicide was a 33-year old asian woman from el Monte, CA. She apparently kept trying to purchase whale watching tickets, and even sports fishing tickets several times after she jumped off the boat. The ticketing office said they denied her every time and she would just leave without an argument but she would eventually come back and try again. 

There have been no names released and no mention of her family. What I do know is that she drove all the way from El Monte and killed herself in the exact location she had been trying to all along. Why? We'll probably never know. 

A whale of A Tale-follow up

If  you read my "A Whale of A Tale" post, you'd remember me mentioning the lady who jumped off  of the whale watching boat. If you recall the ending of that post you would remember that they did nothing to see if she was alright.  Instead, the lady was released almost immediately after the boat returned her to land.  Police and crew members didn't contact her family or arrest her for her suicide attempt( which is illegal), they just let her go.

 Big mistake.

 That same lady went for one last swim with the fishes. 

Her body was found floating about a quarter mile out from the pier. Oddly enough, it was the same whale watching  boat she jumped off three weeks prior that discovered her body. Even worse, there were nearly one-hundred elementary students on board when her body was discovered. Crew member's of the vessel notified the Coast Guard and were instructed to wait by her body for nearly twenty minutes before they( Coast Guard's) came to retrieve her remains.

She apparently jumped off the rocks pictured above and drowned herself. Those rocks are not very high, they just serve as a barrier for large waves. The lady in this situation, had to actually drown herself by force. A fairly slow and painful death. 

This saddens me and pisses me off simultaneously. 

Why didn't anyone do anything? If I had been on that boat, like I originally planned on being, I would have said something. I  mean, why didn't anyone see the seriousness in that situation? A grown woman who goes on a whale watching voyage alone and jumps off the boat to "Swim with the fishes", is clearly not sane. 

I don't even know this lady or her story, yet I am saddened for her and her family. If I was her loved one, I would wonder why nobody spoke up. One simple phone call may have been all it would have taken to have saved her life. Just one person taking an interest in her well being. But no one cared enough to do anything, and unfortunately this is a common issue with people. They just don't care.

 I am not putting the blame on anyone in particular for her suicide. I am just trying to point out that it is so easy to turn your head in the other direction when it comes to people we don't know or feel any attachment towards. 

Who knows, this lady could have been a crazy person with no loved one's in her life. But she may have meant the world to someone too. She could have been someone's mother, daughter, lover, sister or friend. 

Why we should care?

 Because this could have been our mother, daughter, sister, friend, or lover that no one cared enough to save. 

Perverts and Pancakes

Today was a typical, yet interesting day at "Ned's." The sun was shining, the coffee was strong, and the food was warm. All seemed great and "normal' with the exception that some weird old-men decided it would be appropriate to hit on me while I served them their grub. The interesting thing about this was the fact that these men are regulars whom I thought were pretty cool dudes. I was wrong, they're not cool dudes they're just dirty old farts.

The first incident was with a man who comes in about once a month when he is in town on business(he's a pilot). This man who we'll just call, "Pervert Number One," mentioned to me that it was a beautiful day and I agreed and continued with my business of serving. A few minutes later as I was pouring coffee to another guest, pervert number one signaled me over to him. When I got over to his table he said, "You know, the pool at my hotel is beautiful, have you ever seen it?''

"Yes," I said. "And I have been in it several times. I used to have a gym membership there and the pool is part of the deal." Pervert Number One(who is an estimated 60 years old) than said "Would you like to come over to my hotel and change and then go for a swim?"

"Ummm, no thanks," I responded. I walked away feeling dirty. I might as well have had the word "hooker" tattooed on my forehead, because that's how I felt. Like a hooker.

What is wrong with this man? What makes him think that just because I served him his pancakes he can ask me to come over to his hotel? This also makes me wonder if he has been successful in the past. I mean, if he had the guts to ask me that question in the first place, he must have gotten his way before with somebody.

Bottom-line: I am not an idiot. I wasn't born yesterday, and I know a pervert when I see one. There's no way in hell I'm going to a perfect stranger's hotel room. I mean, he may be older than sin, but you never know. He could chop me up into a million pieces and put me in his suitcase. And I don't know about those other girls but grandpa's suitcase sure as hell isn't one of the places I'd like to visit before I die (or when I die).

The incident with Pervert Number Two was not nearly as degrading as perv number one but gross nonetheless. Pervert Number Two came in right after perv number one left. Perv Number Two ordered pancakes as well. While I was taking his order he asked me what size dress I wore and that he bets he could get me a nice dress. He then said, "I bet so many women would kill to be your size."

I don't care if these men have some deranged fantasy of me swimming  in a pool while wearing a  nun's outfit . They should keep this to themselves. I have one word for this: Gross! I just have one question. Why do perverts that order pancakes, have to come to Ned's? Why God, why?

A Random Rant

Hey y'all, I know this has nothing to do with the theme "Serving and Waiting," but bare with it. 

Since our teacher required us to post this rant to our blog and YouTube, it doesn't necessarily flow with my regular blog. My rant in particular has to do with a 14-year-old girl who posted nude pictures of herself on MySpace and is now being charged as a child pornographer. Tell me what your opinion is. Do you think a 14-year-old girl should have to be forced to register as a sex offender for this? Do you believe that she should face 17-years in prison for disrespecting herself? Do you feel like she is a child pornographer? I want to hear your thoughts on this subject.  Feel free to disagree with me. P.S. I am sorry if I look in all sorts of directions, I had no idea where my video cam was on this computer. I am still figuring out how to use my new imac.