Monthly Archives: November 2013

I need a Drake break

I wait tables at a big, corporate, restaurant chain. It’s one of these places with a huge sound system installed throughout the entire space, speakers hidden, blended seamlessly into the ceilings. There’s a touchscreen on the side of the wall that gives you the illusion of there being some sort of a control to the whole system, but in reality, all of the songs are selected by some company VP far, far away. The playlist never changes entirely, it’s more like, once in a while they’ll take out one song, and maybe a couple of days later they’ll add in another.

I’m very conscious of this music because, well, I’m there every day, I’m in the restaurant seven to twelve hours at a time. Where the average restaurant guest won’t ever hear the same song twice, I’m stuck listening to each track three, four times a day. These weird new age jazz mixes combined with the occasional pop hit, I’m not even really aware how engrained these sounds are in my consciousness, not until one obscure song stops and in my head, I’m already starting up the beginning of the next weird synth hit, those first few seconds cycle through my head before it actually plays out loud.

The first few times this happened I was like, no way, did I just predict that? And now it happens and I’m like, come on, please don’t actually happen, please don’t really play the next song that I know is about to come up. I just feel like I’m being programmed, like my brain is being hardwired to memorize these songs that, had I never worked in this restaurant, I’d have never been exposed to in my life.

And while, yes, it’s mostly this kind of weird instrumental music, they do throw in the occasional pop hit every now and then. About a month or two ago, this popular new song by Drake was added to the playlist, it’s the one that’s like, “You act so different around me / Just hold on we’re going home.” I hear it everywhere, in addition to the four or five times it’s piped through the walls at work, it’s on in the taxi, it’s playing on some seemingly unattended boombox propped up outside of the entrance to the subway.

When it first started cycling through, everyone went nuts. You’d go into the kitchen and everyone would be singing along, the dishwasher harmonizing with the prep cook, the smooth sounds of contemporary R&B permeating every corner of the restaurant.

But I don’t care how good you think a song is. You start listening to that song every day, five or six times a day, certain things are going to happen. You’ll start hearing it in your head, and then your brain’s going to take it to another level, it’s going to deconstruct that song, every note, every background effect will be revealed. And once you commit that song entirely to memory, it’s inescapable, it’s the type of tune-stuck-in-your-head that almost sets itself on repeat in your mind, all day long, even when it’s not playing.

Then you might even ignore it the next time it comes on. You’ll hear that song and you’ll think, what the hell? What happened? Why didn’t I get anything out of it this time? And that’s when you fall down the other side of the mountain. Pretty soon you start to hate this song, that dumb drum machine intro, it’s just one drum, the most basic of beats, it’s virtually indistinguishable from any other drum intro, but you hear it, and you know it, just one beat on that drum machine and every fiber of your being absolutely knows that it’s going to be Drake.

“I’ve got my eye on you,” over and over and over again. But like I said, this song is a hit, it’s everywhere. And maybe everyone else in the world might eventually get tired of hearing it too often, but definitely not yet, your average music listener isn’t nearly as caught up as you are on this accelerated moment of Drake.

It’ll be close to midnight on a Friday night. I won’t have any energy left. All I’ll want is for my lingering customers to pay up and go home, but everyone’s taking their time. And then I hear that drum beat, and while a small part of me dies inside, I look out across the floor, the smiles are everywhere, guests are actually starting to dance, these weird I’m-sitting-in-a-booth-but-I’m-going-to-do-my-best-to-dance dances, singing along, having a great time.

The other night it came on as I was taking an order and this guy froze midsentence. He got that huge Drake smile and he said to me, “Man, I just love this song! Just hold on we’re going home! I love it! What a great song!” and what was I going to say? That I had become numb to all music? That this was already the ninth time I’d heard this song today? No, I wanted a good tip, so I flashed my own Drake smile, I was like, “Right? Drake! I love this song too! It’s awesome! I know exactly who you could be!” and we merged into the chorus in unison, a weird restaurant duet, “Just hold on we’re going home, it’s hard to do these thing alo-one.”

It worked. Twenty bucks cash on an eighty dollar check. But man, I can’t take it anymore, I can’t listen to that Drake song again, I need a Drake break, just a small one, please.

Siamese Friends

I have this great idea for a TV show, it’s called Siamese Friends, it’s about two friends that get in a terrible car accident. That’s going to play in the intro, every episode, just so you can really get a sense of how bad this crash was. Maybe both cars will explode, I have no idea, I’ll leave that up to the director, but in my script, that’s going to be a stage direction, or a note, “Bad car wreck!”

And then they’ll both wake up in the hospital, you won’t really see them, the camera will be positioned behind their beds, staring at the attending doctor. He’ll go into this speech, “Boys, I want to tell you how incredibly lucky you two are just to be alive. In my history as a medical practitioner, I’ve never seen two human beings sustain the kinds of injuries you two did.”

The camera will start to swing around, we’ll see the friends, they’ll be relieved. But then they’ll start to squirm a little. The doctor will continue, “However, when the paramedics brought you in, we had to operate extremely quickly. Both of your lives were on the line, and so the lead surgeon stitched you together, figuring that your tattered bodies might stand a better chance at survival if they were sewn together.”

“And it worked,” he’d continue, “But I’m afraid the process is completely irreversible. You’re both sharing several major organs, and your circulatory systems are almost totally fused.” And he’d continue on like that for a while, giving all sorts of medical-sounding explanations as to why they’re going to have to exist in this current state, a pair of conjoined friends.

Naturally, both of the guys are going to be devastated. Their lives are going to be forever altered. But that’s going to be the whole show. They’ll get an apartment together, and each week we’ll watch them try to pick up the pieces of something resembling a normal life.

Like maybe they’ll have two totally different jobs. One of them will be a really rich and powerful stockbroker, but the other guy might only work as a restaurant busboy. And so, thinking that they’ll still be able to sort of manage two separate lives, they’ll each take a stab at running two careers at the same time. That episode will culminate with the broker trying to conduct a business lunch at the same restaurant where the other friend happens to work. And so it’ll be back and forth, negotiating deals while clearing plates and pouring fresh water.

And then later that summer at the corporate picnic, they’ll both get in a really competitive potato sack race, or a three-legged race, I haven’t really planned out the specifics of where exactly these two guys are going to be stitched together. I guess it all depends on how much of a budget I’ll be working with, like if I’m operating on a shoestring, I guess I could just get an oversized sweatshirt and have them both fit inside. But if I have the special effects department at my disposal, I could CGI three legs, one torso, probably any type of attachment.

I don’t know why any of the networks haven’t responded to my emails. I’ve been watching TV lately and I think I speak for most everyone when I say that I’m not especially impressed with the fall lineup. The only thing that NBC had going for it was that show about the wheelchair cop, but that got cancelled after only two episodes. Come on, don’t you guys want to make some great TV? Let’s make Siamese Friends a reality.

Maybe sometime late in season seven, some foreign doctor will visit them, he’ll say that he has a new experimental surgery he wants to try out, “I can make you two separate again!” And they’ll consider it, at first glance, it’ll be everything that they’d ever hoped for. But by the end of that episode, they’ll realize that they love being attached, that what’s better than never being an arm’s length away from your best friend? So they’ll choose to stay conjoined. And that’ll be the last episode. Somebody’s got to help me make this happen. We’ll be rich.

Two-hand touch

Come on, get up, you’re all right, you didn’t fall that hard, just try and put some weight on it, I’m sure you’ll … ooh, you know what? Don’t put any more weight on it. Just give it a minute, I think that’s the body’s natural response to an impact, swelling, even if nothing’s broken, especially when nothing’s broken, because if there wasn’t any swelling, well, then you’d be in trouble, that’s when I’d start to worry. Maybe you’d be dead. You never see swelling on a dead person. Just a lot of bloat, which is totally different.

Nope, a fair amount of deep purple swelling is biology’s way of telling you, OK, you took a little bit of a tumble, but just let me rush a whole bunch of antibodies and natural painkillers to the affected site and … listen, I don’t even think you hit the ground that hard, I mean, you’ll be on your feet in a minute. Maybe two minutes. Just give it five minutes.

I didn’t hit you that hard. I know we were playing two-hand touch, it’s just … you know, heat of the moment, animal instincts take over and SLAM! You see? I’m getting all riled up just thinking about it, which is perfectly natural, that’s my physiology still reacting, still preparing for more reactions, I’ve got so much adrenaline still coursing through my system, I feel like I could take down everybody here. Does anybody else want a piece of this? What are you looking at, huh? He’s fine. Just give him some room to breathe, Jesus.

You know it’s because I used to play in high school, you know that, right? Some things cannot be unlearned, and to be perfectly fair here, you were coming at me pretty aggressively, way too cocky for a guy who still had a former varsity lineman to get through before crossing to the end zone. I know it’s a friendly game and everything, but I’m not just going to let you win.

Does anybody have any ice? Just … when you get home, fill up the tub with ice and stay in there for an hour, two hours, and when it melts, just get the Mrs. to fill it up with even more ice, nice and ice cold. I guarantee you that the swelling will … holy shit, is that bone? No, that’s not bone. That couldn’t be bone. Bone doesn’t come out that way. I totally, absolutely did not hit you hard enough for that to be bone.

Motherfucker … well, that could have just been a really awkward landing. On your part, I’m saying. You know, you’re a runner, right? I’d bet you anything that you had one of those stress fractures. Have you been feeling any shin pain lately? Like shin splints? Because that’s like a micro break right there, like all it takes is the slightest amount of pressure in just the right spot and, CRACK! That’s what I’m betting … I’m pretty sure that … there’s no way I could have.

Look, I can reset that, I think I actually have to. I took half of a lifeguarding course like ten years ago and … I’m serious man, that thing has got to be reset. We’re looking at permanent lifetime damage, like a limp, maybe a prosthetic, if that bone starts to heal without being properly aligned. That’s nature man, you don’t understand the resilience of the human body, almost to a fault, like the second you go down … remember I was talking about those antibodies? The swelling? Well it is a good sign, normally.

And even though I’m pretty sure your legs were in bad shape coming in here, I do feel somewhat responsible. When you run, do you strike with your heel or with your toe? Because heel striking, or toe striking, I can’t remember, but one of those is really hard on the shins. Didn’t you think about any of this before you took to the field? Don’t you have kids? Playing on a team against a former two-time county starting lineman? It’s like those guys who run with bulls over in Spain, nobody thinks they’ll be the one going down, getting trampled, gored, and no one wants to see that happen, but when it does, you don’t ever hear anybody blaming the bull. Am I right?

But still, we’ve got to get that bone set. Just, stop struggling. I know it hurts, don’t worry, I’ll bring over lots of ice for that ice bath, that’s going to be one of the coldest ice baths you’ve ever taken. You won’t even be able to feel any of this pain. Just, stop, just … somebody hold him down. Jesus! I’ve got to do everything …

Well, he wouldn’t stop struggling. This’ll be much easier now that he’s knocked out. There we go, just like that and … oh. Oh God. That’s even worse. And why is it all of the sudden bleeding now? You know, I think we should call an ambulance. I think … I think we should call his wife. Just … you guys saw all that, right? I was trying, like the good Samaritan. Like good Samaritan laws, they exist, right? That’s a thing, right? Because I was just trying my best. I didn’t know he had weak shins. I think he’ll be OK. We just have to wake him up, just slap him around a little bit. HEY LARRY! WAKE UP! LARRY!

Dinner party

I’m a good cook. Just, please, try to stay out of my way. I don’t need any help. So no, please don’t bring any side dishes. I have the side dishes already planned out. It’s the same with dessert. If you bring dessert, well, don’t bring dessert, because I’m telling you right now, no dessert, so go ahead and try me, bring that box from the bakery, I’ll be like, “Gee, sorry, looks like there’s no room in the fridge,” and then I’ll really push back the dessert course, make sure your lemon meringue pie or whatever it is inside that box gets nice and warm, really mushy, and I have just the serving dish I can put it on, it’s gross looking, like I think someone put it in the oven one time, and so it’s got all of these weird burnt-on grease looking stains, and you could tell it was just starting to melt, minutes away from losing any semblance of structural integrity.

I don’t need you to bring any drinks, I’ll handle the drinks. What, were planning on buying a few two-liter bottles of soda? Don’t even think about it. If you’re currently thinking about it, just stop right there, because I’ve got it covered. That includes cups, and yes, that includes ice.

And napkins. I’m taking care of napkins. Please don’t bring your coats. If you get cold inside, I’ll have plenty of extra sweaters and blankets available. Just leave it to me, all right? It’s just that, for my dinner parties, I like to maintain a certain continuity of theme, I’m trying to strike not just the perfect dinner, but everything, the ambiance, the lighting – please don’t touch the lights – it’s got to be just right.

Listen, I’d prefer it if everyone ate with forks in their left hands, OK? I know it shouldn’t seem like a big deal, but I’m going to be getting up to take a photo soon … no, nobody look over here, it’s got to be candid, and remember what I was talking about before? The uniformity? Yeah, just not like that. Like, try to cut the steak against the grill mark, just so everybody will be able to see the char.

You know what? I’ll cut the food. Just, everybody pass your plates over here. I insist. Hey, you two at the end, if you’re going to have a side conversation, could it maybe be something a little topical? I’m sure it’s very important to figure out who’s splitting a cab home with who, but maybe that’s something that you could have discussed before you stepped inside. Just think of it like a house rule, like maybe talk about the news, or sports. You know what? The news. Talk about the mayor.

Hey, over here, yeah you, nobody goes to the bathroom until after the first course. Look, this isn’t a restaurant, OK? The dining room is simply way too close to the bathroom, so it’s all got to be fit in somewhere, and that’ll be in between courses four and five. Yep, get comfortable folks. And besides, I’m not ready to go in there with you. There’s a certain way to do it in there, it may look like any other first-floor bathroom, but … well, I really can’t explain it, it’s just something I’ve got to show you how to do.

Seriously? You guys are leaving already? Well, let me wrap up some of this food for you, trust me, you’re going to love it, I’ve been working on this all day. Just, when you get home, make sure you adjust the presets on the microwave, like normally they’re set to nine or ten and nobody ever thinks about it once it’s set up. All you have to do is set it to six, run it for twenty-four seconds, then you set it to ten, and you pulse it, one second, wait, three seconds, wait, then you take it out, you mix it up a little, back to level six, thirty seconds, rest, wait, repeat.

You know what? I’m going to come with you, I just need to show you, this won’t take long everybody, just, feel free to hang out in the living room, you guys can talk about anything, well, feel free to open up the conversation somewhat, like I guess sports is OK. No come on, I insist, give me the keys, no I’ll drive, I know a shortcut, I’ll have you guys set up at your dinner table in no time.

I don’t make promises I can’t keep

It’s not that I’m saying I won’t do the dishes, it’s just that I can’t promise that I will. And believe me, I have every intention of coming home after work today and heading straight for the kitchen sink. Because, I know, I said I would do them two days ago, and then I said with even more emphasis that I would definitely get them done yesterday, and then when I fell asleep on the couch for the better part of last night, I begged, I pleaded, “Please. Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.”

And now tomorrow is today. And yes, I didn’t get them done in the morning, OK, even though that was my goal. But I still have until the end of the day, right? Technically I still have until midnight. And I’m going to get them done. But you want me to promise? Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

I mean, I could think of a dozen or so reasons just off of the top of my head why I might not be able to get them done. That’s not to say that I’m not going to come straight home and put those rubber gloves on right away. But like, what if there’s a sniper? That happens sometimes, it happened in DC a while ago. Say people are getting picked off, and they can’t find the gunman, wouldn’t you rather I hole up at work? So in that albeit unlikely scenario, I wouldn’t make it home to do those dishes.

And I don’t want to break a promise, that’s just not who I am. Or what about a flash flood? It would the same exact situation as above, me not being able to make it home because of some sort of emergency. Tornado. Hurricane. Well, I guess not hurricane, because everybody would be talking about, making its way from the Gulf few days before it would hit here. But still. I said sniper, right?

Or what if I get home and the water’s out? I know it’s never been out before, but it could happen. What if that same sniper, what if he’s teamed up with someone bent on poisoning the city’s water supply? And maybe the detectives or homeland security, maybe they found out the plot before it was too late. But some of the poison made its way into the pipes, and so just to be extra careful, the city shut everything down. How are you supposed to do dishes with no water?

I guess I could maybe agree to a promise, but only if we sit down and go through all of the very legitimate excuses, however unlikely they may be, that would exempt me from actually following through. But, I don’t know, that could take a lot longer than we have, or I have, you know, time left in the day for me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Unless you want to add that to the agreement, one of the stipulations could say, “Unless we run out of time because we get caught up listing all of the ways in which I might be reasonably prevented from doing the dishes, including, but not limited to, this sentence.”

What if I die right before I make it to the house? Do you honestly want your last memory of me to be that of a promise broken? And what if that promise then chains me to this mortal coil? I’ll be unable to pass completely to the afterlife, I’ll be a ghost, a shadow of my former self, doomed to spend eternity futilely trying to make it home in time, before I die, but I’ll already be dead, I’ll be one of those ghosts that doesn’t know that he’s dead.

Do you really want that? And then years after you’re dead, you’ll be in heaven, I’ll be stuck haunting this house, the new occupants will have enough of my roaming around the halls, moaning out questions like, “Hooooney, where do we keep the extra spooooonges?” They’ll call up an exorcist, he’ll be a really powerful medium, I won’t stand a chance. What if I get banished to hell? Do you really think that’s fair? All because I made a promise to do one or two sinks full of dishes, a promise that the universe for some reason refused to allow me to keep?

Come on, just trust me here, I’ll get them done. And also, for real, where do we keep the extra sponges? Because, I know … I know you hate wasting sponges, but I hate using old sponges, they’re so slimy. Just … which counter, upstairs or downstairs? OK, and, that big lasagna pan, I mean, do I really have to scrub that? Or can I just let it soak? Because I don’t think I have that kind of elbow grease. OK, OK, yeah I’ll get to it. I love you to. No, I don’t promise, but the very next level down, whatever type of commitment that’s just slightly less binding than a promise, that’s what I’m committing to. OK, see you at home.