Wednesday, April 05, 2006


Run away! Run away!


The Jetta is in the shop. Did I tell you about the morning when I turned into Mockingbird Station about four seconds too soon? Yeah, alignment and hubcap and then a replacement spare tire, which is covered under my car car plan. The money I made last night is enough to cover the cost of retrieving my car once it has been all fixed up.

In keeping with my procrastination streak, I just did my taxes. D'oh! At least I am getting some money back. Which is nice.

What is the lifespan of an alarm clock? Mine died yesterday. I don't remember buying it, but I can't have had it that long. Maybe since 1997 or so? I don't know.

My new favorite story about the wine bar? Last night, one of our servers came over to me slightly panicky. She said, "have you seen Table Two?" I said "pink tank top, huge tits? Not recently." "They're gone and they didn't pay." I immediately stride out into the driveway, and begin walking towards the other end, where the valet stand is. No sign of them. The other server looks like she might cry. If you have a tab walk out without paying, you are responsible for that money. On the one hand, it totally fucking sucks to have that happen and it's completely cry worthy. On the other, more dickheaded side, it *is* our job to take care of those tables and to watch them. So, I immediately grab the manager. "Doug, table two walked! I already walked down to Starbucks and to the valet stand to see if I could find them!" He immeediately heads to our garage. The other server and I stay behind, because chasing folks down for money is a manager's job. He stood at the exit of the garage and waited. He sees a BMW, and in his own words "I couldn't remember the dude, but I remember her tits and tank top, and I saw them in the passenger seat." He bangs on the car as it drives by and the guy screeches to halt and shouts "somethin' wrong, bud?" Doug holds out the check presenter and makes his mean face (he's bald, so he does a good mean face), and snips "yeah, you forgot to pay" back at the douche. Douche retorts "well, here I've got some damn cash!" Manager: "Fantastic, because your tab is $145." HEE! Douche suddenly looks sheepish, and hands over his platinum card, and bleets "I'll circle around and pick that up." When he came in to retrieve it, he name dropped our owner and our owner's wife as close, personal friends. He also gave a 30% tip, to make up for being a douche, I guess. But yeah, my manager is totally my hero. I would have loved to be out there when he banged on that guy's car!