Stoner Waitress, Mr. Condescending Man, and Car Stuff
Friday, Oct. 03, 2003
Ok, after trying to write about the waitress who was so horrible Sunday at lunch due to her being stoned out of her mind, I don�t think there�s any way to write it and be nice at the same time. Suffice it to say that her standard mode of operation was so come out every fifteen minutes, ask us if we needed anything, which we did, then she�d go away for fifteen minutes to show up again with a version of what we needed. Just as an example of the service, I tend to drink about four or five cups of coffee in the 45 or so minutes that a normal Sunday lunch takes. We were there for an hour and 45 minutes by my estimate, but Aisai had us arriving earlier, which I agree with, but I can�t really prove, and we were there two hours. In that time, I got three cups of coffee which were un-hot enough that I was able to quaff them down right away. On one visit, the waitress poured my coffee and then Aisai�s mom�s coffee. When she poured mom�s, it was very full, and the waitress started to pick it up to pour it back into the carafe. Uh, no. You freak. And the reason we know that Angela was a total stoner, besides the obvious hints, was her intro in which she said that she wasn�t usually this manic but she woke up really happy this morning and has been buzzing around ever since. Actually, no, she didn�t look happy, she looked paranoid. And she wasn�t buzzing, she was terribly slow. Heck, she had to write a note to herself when I needed a refill. We finally got our food after 45 min to an hour of being there and, I must say, my wings were wonderful. It took about another hour to get our check. And now that I�ve hit my stride in complaining, which I didn�t intend to do, let me tell you about Mr. Condescending Man. Last night we had out Adoption/Foster Parent class. It�s three hours long each Thursday until November 13th or so. One guy hadn�t shown up for the first three classes and yesterday was his first time. I talked to him on the way out and by our cars as Aisai was talking to his much nicer wife. Highlights: - The dude lectured me on how I should take charge of my finances better. Note, this guy knows nothing about me except that I have a two inch long goatee, a shaved head, and a Miata. Why�d he think that I had my finances out of control? The Miata is perceived to be a car that costs a lot and he thought with the way I looked that I surely couldn�t make money. - The dude told me he thought I was a �Lineman.� I responded that I�m too small for that, thinking he was talking football. But he said he though I was a lineman for Huntsville Utilities. That�s not so bad, right. Well, he then goes on to tell me about how his nephew (or whoever) is a lineman and that all his coworkers are insane, rude, stereotypical biker types who do things like hazing of new people. His wife mentioned that six guys had held down another while they painted some part of his body blue. I responded, �Well, I�m sorry you thought I was like that.� - He kept insisting that our adoption was a big financial hardship on us. After all, he, a guy who is both older than me and has a more conservative way of dressing and doing his hair, has to work a second job to afford his iffy, lawyer ridden domestic adoption. - He told me that I didn�t want to install laminate flooring in my house since it wouldn�t increase the value of it. He didn�t argue for hardwood or anything. He said that when we moved I�d just call up a carpet place and get them to install the cheapest contractor grade stuff they had and that would satisfy the next owner. I had to tell him that I didn�t like the carpet, and that the monetary value of my enjoyment of having laminate instead of carpet would be greater than the cost of actually doing it. He didn�t seem to understand and felt that I lived in a craphole and that a person like me would be content with it. Ooh, it just makes me so mad to think about how I was treated. Worst thing is the dude thought he was just talking to me about stuff. Or, really, lecturing me, trying to turn me from my evil ways. Dude, I don�t have evil ways. Spend a week with me, you�ll figure it out. Or, on other thought, don�t spend any more time with me. Go home and talk bad about immigrants or something, you backwater bumpkin. Ok, I said I�d write about my car, but I�m at about the point I should end this. Recently I put my Miata�s back end up on ramps and got under there with some grease cutting orange cleaner. Parts that I thought were painted black, and steel, were actually shiny aluminum. The differential has those heat diffusion fins on it, so it�s hard to clean it. Today, I�ll take my car by one of those U-spray-It car washes and just blast the dust off my paint. I waxed my car earlier this week. I didn�t use my $50 a bottle Zaino. I used dumb old Nufinish. It looks pretty good, but I really need to use something like Dual Action Cleaner Polish to remove all the oxidation. The NuFinish did a little of that, but I can tell it�s not all removed. I also need to clay off some overspray that got on the car when I painted by brake calipers. I also need to jack up the car, remove the wheels, and clean the wheel wells. I did a little experiment with one wheel well. I cleaned the back half of it about a month ago. Wouldn�t you know, it still looks nice and cleanish. However, the rest of the wheel well and the other three are a dirty gray. Oh, and replacing my valve cover gasket isn�t on my list of things to do (thought it�d be great to paint the valve cover white), because what I thought was oil leaking from there was actually the people at the oil change places the previous owner took it being total slobs. Yes, I got under the engine about six months ago and cleaned it with Simple Green and the parts which were caked in oil are still clean. That reminds me, I need to go by Advance Auto on the way home and get a Purolator PureOne filter for my car. I have some Mobil 1 5w30 that I bought for Aisai�s car, but she�s just taking it to Top Line for oil changes. I also need to see what the 30k mile checkup is at Ford, and do it at home. And I need to order some more powdered protein. Oh, and bring my Palm�s cradle here to work since I�m sans internet at home. And, you know what, I�m not missing it there. Oh, and I planned on writing the waitress story as funny. But the more I had to think about it to write about it, the less funny it became. It was funny on Monday. I should have written about it then.
