Paybacks

My buddy Chris used to tend bar with me at an upscale restaurant that closed two years ago. The two of us were the main bartenders for awhile and Chris was nearly always messing w/me. Fine, have your fun - but as one friend of mine likes to say about me, I kind of like to lay in wait and find the perfect opportunity to even the score. Actually, I like to take a commanding lead.

And so it was one night when Chris apparently prowled through my locker, like a raccoon prowling through a dumpster in search of something to eat. In this case Chris was searching for something he could use to mess with me. What he ended up with, was my tube of toothpaste - which he injected dry blue cheese into using the olive injector that we use to make blue cheese stuffed olives. Fucker! No matter, as luck would have it there isn't a toothpaste on the market that either looks or smells anything like blue cheese - and for better reasons than someone not noticing that someone played a prank on them.

I'll admit to being a little surprised, unpleasantly so, the morning I went to brush my teeth after staff meal - but again, the blue cheese/AquaFresh concoction that Chris so kindly made for me didn't get anywhere near my pearly whites. What it did do, was make me think, it's on - and I've got nothing but time for my day tavern shift to think of ways to repay this debt.

Right about now is where I'll say that I'm not the kind of person who would mess with someone like this for no reason other than to mess with someone - but I used to be, and I was really, really good at it. I'll spell it out for you: If you're the kind of person who does something like this to me first, I'm probably the last guy you want to owe you this type of favor.

The first idea I thought of was to tape 40 or so cocktail napkins together, end to end in the dispensers on the bar. I know how Chris will take one or two napkins and walk towards a guest. Knowing that makes me know that this is a good start - but it's only the warm-act. Imagine his surprise when he walks away with what he thinks are one or two napkins and sees that he's got a whole paper-doll string of them along for the ride. Childish. Close to being hilarious - but again, I've got more in store for my old pal.

I talk it up amongst my fellow tavern shifters that day. Lucky for me I did too - because one of them, I think it was Sean, suggested putting plastic wrap neatly over the mouth of some glassware and showed me how if you do that just right, it goes unnoticed until someone tries to pour liquid into the glass - which bartenders do all the time. Sweet, merciful Jesus, do I ever like this little trick! Mad props to Sean for the suggestion - but there's a clown coming to this party and that clown will steal the show.

The "clown", or high point of my series of payback pranks, was brilliant. I asked one of the servers to run to the grocery store after lunch was over and buy a pack of mouse traps for me. My plan was to cut an outline for the trap in the cocktail napkins and have the set trap rigged with a handful of coffee beans so that when he pulled a napkin from the dispenser he got a bit of a shock and a bunch of coffee beans flying at him. Relax, no one is going to get hurt here - but neither is someone going to put blue cheese in my toothpaste and have that deed go unanswered. What am I going to do, tell? Please!

What I did, was ask one of the servers who finished their shift early, to go to the grocery store and buy a pack of mousetraps for me. Yes. Mousetraps. Thankfully, my request was granted. What I did, was cut an outline out in the cocktail napkins that allowed the trap to sit beneath the top few napkins. I taped the bar to make it more like a paddle, and once the trap was set, I put a handful of coffee beans in the trap and covered it perfectly with a few cocktail napkins. The idea was that when Chris pulled a napkin off the top, the trap would spring and hurl a handful of coffee beans at him. By the way, two test runs with this trap had it working beautifully!

My plan was beautiful, it all came together perfectly and it would've worked too...uhm, until Jimbo came into the picture. Despite the fact that I briefed Jimbo when he came in for his evening shift in the tavern that afternoon, when Chris went outside to smoke and Jim came behind the bar to grab a beer for a guest and reached for the napkin, Jim was left remembering what he'd forgotten moments before.

"Chris come back here....it's going to go off!"

I express my disappointment that I'm having to get up from my seat at the bar, where I'd parked my ass for a front row seat to see my pranks bear fruit. I'm not going to waste time scolding Jim for forgetting about my little trick - I've got a trap to reset! By the way, I barely got that done without getting busted by Chris when he came back behind the bar - but I did succeed, thankfully.

Although the trap was reset w/about half the number of beans it originally had, my plan worked very well. It shocked the living B-JEEZUS out of Chris, and it really amused a customer. Chris couldn't believe that I put a mouse trap in the napkins and went to such lengths to do that. He kept saying as much. I couldn't believe Chris put blue cheese in my tube of toothpaste and thought I would let that go unnoticed. I kept saying as much.

Chris: "What would you have said if that would've gone off with my finger in it?!"

Me(also Chris): "I dunno - probably something like, well now, that oughta teach you not to put blue cheese in my fuckin' toothpaste huh?"

What happened next was almost as funny as the look on his face when the mouse trap went off as he pulled the napkin, he couldn't stop asking me what else I'd done behind his bar. Actually that was it - show's over, but damned if I was going to tell him that.

I watched as he opened his cash drawer and stuck a pencil in every slot thinking that the other trap was somewhere in there. I told him he could relax, that while he was right to assume there was indeed another trap, it was in my car (actually years later, it's still in my car) and I suggest he not force me to use it. I couldn't seem to convince him that I was done. Ah...poetic justice shall be the shadow of the man who runs scared - wow, that's pretty good huh? I just thought of that!

Don't Sing For Your Supper!

I recently got a new cell phone - somewhat reluctantly. It's not that I didn't like my old phone, a Motorola Razor, it's just that after two years, the battery wasn't holding a charge. The cell phone market is highly competitive and it seemed a bit silly to spend $45 on a new battery when I could get a new phone for nothing.

I called my cellular provider and inquired about my upgrade options. Seeing as how I wasn't under contract, I thought that if they wouldn't allow me an upgrade at least comparable to what they were offering new customers, I would look into another provider.

What I ended up with was good and bad. The good was that my cellular provider would allow me to upgrade to a new phone by paying $50 and then getting that money back in a rebate. The bad news is that it took some lengthy phone conversations with my provider's customer service department spread out over three weeks. I found myself repeating my basic information dozens of times, being on hold for 27 minutes on one call( which, by the way feels like an entire flippin' day) and being extremely aggravated at the whole process.

I'll hold the typical stereotyped jokes about how companies have universally shipped their customer service departments over to India - but rest assured, I could spit out loads of those kind of jokes after my last call to my provider prior to my new phone being in stock and shipped to me.

I spent 30 minutes on the phone that day and every passing minute had me wanting off the damn phone more than the previous minute. I repeated things like my name, the last four digits of my social security number, what my phone number is, what my new phone would be and all kinds of other things I wouldn't have thought I'd have to - all more times than I care to count.

Just when all of this seems like it's about to end, and best of all, I'll be off the damn phone after losing count of how many times I've thought "didn't I already tell you that, like, three times?" my customer service rep says the following:

CSR: Okay sir, I do appreciate you giving me the opportunity to assist you with this matter today, and on a scale of one to five, with five being the most positive, how would you rate my service to you today in assisting you with this matter?"

Me, thinking: What The Fuck??...are you kidding me? Actually, I think you have A.D.D. and that's not exactly an attribute in your line of work. It seems doubtful to me that anyone in your department notes a customer's account, and even more doubtful that you even thought to scroll down and read any of what I was told - I say this because you tried to get me to pay for what I was told I would be getting for free. Given that I've spent twice as much time on the phone as I really needed to (never mind wanting here) I would say that I'd rate your service a one, maybe a two. The thing is, you don't get to ask me that - direct me to a survey if you must, but don't put me on the spot - not when my answer is influenced by the fact that what I want most right now is to get off the damn phone!

Me, answering CSR: five.

Me, thinking: that ought to get me off the phone!

CSR: Oh why thank you very much sir! I do appreciate both your opinion of my service to you in this matter and the opportunity to assist you today with this matter, and I would like to thank you at this time for choosing blah,blah,blah for your cellular service and continuing to allow us to serve you...at this time I would like to ask you if there is anything else I can help you with today?

Me: no, I think that's it.

I'm pretty sure I could hear this woman blush over the phone. The only reason I gave her high marks was because I didn't want to have to explain my ass and therefore stay on the phone a little longer. I understand the need for customer feedback - I have worked in customer service and some of that work was actually for a cellular provider. My current job is one that feedback is directly proportional to my income - but I disagree with such a direct manner of getting said feedback. I'm just saying.

Feet Night!

The Thai place I tend bar at feeds us dinner every night at the end of the shift. Now before I say anything else about tonight's post-shift dinner, allow me to say that I'm a pretty fair foodie and a pretty fair cook as well. I do tend to favor Japanese food and sushi over Thai food - I've got some very good reasons for that, none of which I'll share in this post.

At about 8:45 tonight, Dave, one of our servers, comes up to the bar and says he needs me to do him a favor. "Sure - whaddya need man?" I say.

"I need you to go right now and take a look at what they made us for dinner tonight - and be sure you take a good whiff of it!" I rather doubt that I'll be surprised really, because these days I'm less and less surprised by what I see at work. I head towards the kitchen, wondering what's in store for us for dinner.

I've been at this place, which I jokingly refer to as "House of MSG", for about a year and a half. I've seen some employee meals that made me feel like I was in a flippin' Unicef commercial - "Please send money now - you can make a difference in someone's life today for just pennies a month." - and I've passed on quite a few of those. I'll either buy something off the menu, go someplace to eat after work, or make something at home. I am not a man who eats things that don't look good. Yeah, I said it.

I go back to the kitchen and Dave is over my shoulder : "Those are FEET!"

Yes, that's exactly what I see a huge bowl of. A big bowl filled with chicken feet. It looks like the feet are sauced with a sweet brown sauce that is used for General Tso's or Sesame chicken, and a few of the dried hot red peppers are scattered over them. As a friend's father used to say, you can't polish a turd. Nothing could make tonight's staff meal appealing for me - except maybe a week without food.

"Yes they are" I calmly reply. In my mind I'm thinking, what THE fuck???

How do I put this delicately? No thanks. One of our cooks (I hate to use the term "Chef" at this place) asks me why I don't want to eat them and then cross-references them with something I won't repeat here.

Again, I know the culture is different - but so is the soil you're standing on in the country you chose to come to, America. I'm sorry, but if chicken feet were so damn good you would see more chicken feet places than burger joints. If chicken feet were so damn good, bars and restaurants would have "Feet Night" instead of "Wing Night" - guess what? They don't !

I've tried some things I never thought I'd try, and some of those things I've liked - but Andrew Zimmern I'm not. Perhaps a little nod to Dr. Seuss:

I will not have those chicken feet
Those are not what I will eat

I do not care how you will fry
these feet you will not make me try

I'm hungry yes, the hour is late
but do not put those on my plate

...uhm, yeah, that's about enough on that one huh?

It's The Little Things...

Sometimes it's the little things that mean a lot. Cliche, I know - deal with it. All I can say is that lately I find myself noticing some very little things that mean a lot to me. I guess you could say that to me, any of these things really aren't that little - they're actually very big things that I cherish, yeah - I said it.

So what kinds of things am I talking about? Here are a few of the things that either always jump out at me at just the right time, or that I'm thinking of currently:

1) A hand made birthday card that my niece Amy made for me two years ago. It's drawn in pencil and she drew me on the front with the caption "sad - Befor", on the inside, the card reads as follows: today is you'r day, you are ___(I'm not telling, but it's 40-enough, thank you) years old. good luck! happy .B. day! - on the back of the card is another rendering of me, but this one is smiling and reads, happy/after. Makes sense to me - isn't everyone happy after their birthday?

2) A square tray made out of popsicle sticks that my nephew Matt gave me - probably 9 or ten years ago. One of the sticks broke off and I still have it - I'm going to glue it back on. The tray sits on top of a small bookshelf where I put my keys. It's there in order for me to see it all the time.

3) A few emails with encouraging words from friends - I keep these and look back at them from time to time on days when I feel like I'm struggling. Sometimes I take a line from emails like these and print it out to stick it on my bulletin board - that's how inspiring and uplifting a kind word from one of my friends can be, and I consider myself very friend-rich.

4) Along the same lines as #3, a text message sent to me by a friend, seconds after I got off the phone with him and he asked me to be a groomsman in his wedding. This, on a day when I found myself wondering if I'd made a difference for anyone else. I felt like the universe, and my friend both were tapping me on the shoulder and telling me that yes, I had indeed made a difference. Who would've thought that a simple text message would end up meaning so much?

5) A small mason jar that was given to me filled with real maple syrup from the property of a woman who used to decorate the upscale restaurant where I used to work. BJ, the woman who gave me this jar of syrup, passed away last summer after a long battle with cancer. She was a delightful woman to talk to, actually to listen to. She had this incredible way of bestowing warmth, wisdom, humor and complete kindness to anyone she was around - and I only had the blessing of being in her presence every once in awhile. I'm a bit of an odd duck in that I only eat pancakes in the winter months. For some reason I find blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup on a winter morning very comforting - and I always think of BJ and what a delightful person she was when I have pancakes now. I hope I always will.

6) A note on a torn off piece of paper that reads: Thank You! U were Great! This note was left by a customer who was very particular about what they wanted. I only wanted to get them exactly what they wanted, but for some reason that became a bit difficult due to my manager interrupting me and making things much harder than they needed to be. What makes this note special is that the kind of aggravation that took place that night is a regular occurence at my place of employment - though it needn't be. This customer made a point of going up to the front desk and asking for a pen and the paper to write it on - and they left a nice tip as well. To me this note says, "see? it's them, not you."

7) A card from a couple from Australia, who were visiting friends in this country, friends who happen to be among my friends. The last thing I expected was to receive a card from these two people telling me that the best thing about their trip to the United States was meeting the friends of the people they were visiting with. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised me so much, because these particular people are among the nicest people I know and I'm lucky to be anywhere in a circle of friends that include people like these.

8) A rather bright red canvas Chinese newspaper boy hat. This hat is a bit bright, especially for a man, a bit of a tight fit, and it only looks good on me worn backwards so that it looks kind of like a beret. The hat was given to me by a guy who came over here from Laos and worked as the lead cook at the Thai place I'm currently employed with. Everyone called this guy Papa John, and much of the time, Papa John was a bit crabby to the men at work - but he was always giving the young girls food, pushing a stool towards them and telling them to sit down and rest while they ate. Most of the time I left John alone - but I saw kindness in that man's heart and I could tell that his crabby mood at work was born of loneliness and being unhappy. All that man did, at least in the time that I knew him, was work - six days a week and 12-14 hour days. As if it wasn't hot enough in the kitchen, the owner had John outside mowing the damn lawn in the summer months too. John himself wore a hat like this and gave me my hat after I complimented him on his one night. John passed away at 45, two weeks ago. I once thought this hat was perhaps a bit bright for a man to wear - at least if that man is me. Now I'll wear it whenever I want to and I don't care what anyone else thinks about it, so there.

There you have it, the little things that mean a lot to me.