Off to NYC!

Didn’t want you to think I’d disappeared again.  Have been working crazy hours after being on vacation and losing a manager.  It’s going to be crazy for the next month or so until I get the new bar manager trained.  That’s okay, though.  That’s why I’m paid the big bucks.

Won’t be posting again till the end of the week.  I’m going to NYC on Monday for four days.  It’s 20% work.  100% fun.  Yes.  I know my percentages don’t add up.  It’s not really a work thing.  My boss is cooking in NYC for a special event and Adam and I are going down to attend.  It will be a wonderful 11 course meal with drinks and wine.  It will be DELICIOUS.  After the dinner we are staying two more days to visit friends and eat at some fun  restaurants and see three shows.  We are driving back late Thursday night/early Friday morning.

Anyway.  I’ll catch you up on the trip, continue my KY trip and tell you all about NYC on Friday, since I’m off Friday night!

Have a great week!

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Two men. One story.

So I drop my mom off and I race to Georgetown to a different O’Charley’s where I’m meeting two classmates from high school.

I chose the word classmate rather than friend because neither of the two people I’m meeting were my friends in high school.  One was an acquaintance.  The other I have never spoken to in my life.

I get there at 8:15.  I’m first.  I find at a seat at a table in the bar area.  I’m there about 30 seconds when Jeff arrives.

He looks just like his photo on Facebook.  He’s quite handsome.  And doesn’t look anything close to the 50 years old that he will soon be.

He tells me he wants a hug not a handshake.  We hug and then sit down.

At this point he tells me that we are about to have our VERY first conversation ever.  The entire time we were in high school that we never spoke two words to each other.  This doesn’t surprise me.  When he friended me on Facebook, I actually had to look him up because I had no idea who he was.

We continue to chat.

He asks if my family is still in Georgetown.  I tell him that my mom moved to Lexington in 2001.  My stepdad died in 2003.

I ask about his family.

He tells me his mom lives in Georgetown.

And that he never knew his dad.

There is a pause and then I ask him to clarify.

Seems that his mom got pregnant when she was a teenager.  The father was never part of the picture.  Jeff doesn’t know the man’s name or what he looks like.  Any attempts to discuss this with his mom have been thwarted.  He gave up trying to find out years ago.  He goes on to say that there was an evil stepfather for a while and then they got divorced and that was that.  He also explains that they were quite poor.

I’m stunned.

This is EXACTLY my story.

My mom got pregnant when she was 25.  My biological father was never part of the picture.  I don’t know what he looks like.  I do have a name but that’s all and it took a HUGE fight with my mom to get that much.  My mother married my stepfather when I was four and I prayed every day for 20 years that she would divorce him.  It never happened.  We were quite poor growing up, and were even on food stamps and welfare for a while.

He had no idea!  I had no idea!

What are the odds that a guy that I went to high school with had the same story as me.  It was crazy.

We’d just finished talking about this when our other friend M. showed up.  She gave us each big hugs and we settled in to chat for a while.

Two hours later we were still chatting.  M. had to leave first because her son would be going to bed soon.  Jeff and I continued to talk until they kicked us out.  It was such a fun night reconnecting with people I was never connected to in the first place.

I’ll post more on this tomorrow night.

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Dinner with Family!

So I sit in my mom’s kitchen.  Under the squeaking ceiling fan for 90 minutes until it’s time to go to dinner.

Deciding on a place to eat was not much different than trying to solve the middle east political problems.  No one was helpful.  No one had a suggestion.  Until you recommended some place they didn’t like.  We finally decided on O’Charley’s.  It’s an old stand by!

We are supposed to meet at 6:15.  My mom and I arrive at 6:00.  I go in to see if they can accommodate a party of 10.  They tell me it will be a 15 minute wait and I tell them great!  Everyone is supposed to be here in 15 minutes.  My mom and I  sit in the car until 6:15.  I suggest we go in so I can get a drink.  Diet Coke.  I think bourbon might be a bad idea.  So they seat us.  It’s 6:15.

The rest of the group includes my brother, his ex-boy friend, his ex-boyfriend’s new boyfriend, my aunt and her three grand kids.

At 6:30.  It’s still just me and my mom.  This annoys me.  I run a restaurant.  I know how fucked up it is to have a table being held for a party that has not yet shown yet.  My brother and crew finally arrive at 6:45.  No apology.  No nothing.  They come in and get settled.  My aunt is still not there.

She doesn’t arrive until 7:15.  An hour late.  I’m furious.  It’s rude to me.  My mom.  And especially to the restaurant and server.  She also doesn’t apologize.

FINALLY.

It’s 7:15. We are all there.  I tell them they have to oder immediately because I have to leave at 8:00, to meet friends.  We order.  But it’s not easy.   I don’t think I’ve ever been out to eat with such rude people in my life.  They are demanding.  Curt.  Insensitive.  My brother gets mad at the waiter because they forgot to bring his ex-boyfriend’s drink.  Only the waiter didn’t forget.  It’s on the table.  In plain view.  It’s just that the ex-boyfriend’s blind and didn’t see it.

No.  Seriously.  He’s blind.

My three cousins are just pains in the ass.  Demanding more bread.  More drinks.  More pickles.  I don’t remember the last time I’ve been so embarrassed while out to eat.

Finally dinner comes.  They eat like pigs.  Everyone talking with their mouth’s full.  And still being demanding of the waiter.  I’m seriously the most embarrassed I’ve been in years!

And people are still eating but it’s 8:00 and I have to go.  We should have had plenty of time to eat and finish dinner but when everyone was late it’s not my fault.  I’m having drinks with friends at the O’Charley’s in Georgetown.  We are currently in Lexington.

I sneak off to the bathroom.  I have to pee, but I also want to get the waiter.  I want to apologize for my family.  Pay the bill.  And TIP.  ALOT.

I find him and ask that he run my credit card and then just close out the check when they are finished.  He tells me that he can’t do that.  We are in the process of trying to figure it out with the manager when the waiter comes back and tells me they all said not to dessert.  I give him my card.  He runs it.  The bill is 100.  I tip 50.  Apologizing over and over about my family.

I go back to the table.  Tell everyone that I’ve paid the check and that I have to go.

NOT ONE PERSON THANKS ME.

They all just go about being rude and demanding.

I get my mom into the car.  Drive her home across town.

And by 8:20 I’m on my way to Georgetown.

It’s only the first day and I’m already over my trip!

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Ceiling fans!

So this time last week my ass was on it’s way to sleep in The Red Roof Inn in Lexington, Kentucky.  Tonight, I’m glad to be home.

So last Thursday I get to my mom’s house.  It’s about 4:30.  We have 90 minutes to waste until we have to leave for dinner.

I had a video I was going to insert here but it seems that WordPress charges 90 bucks to insert your own video.

So I’ll have to paint the picture for you.

My mom lives in a 1970’s VERY small ranch house.  Three bedrooms.  Two baths.  One of the baths was an addition years later.  It came that way when my parents bought it 15 years ago.  I don’t think the house has had any work done on it since the 1980’s.  It’s in desperate need for attention.  The bathroom ceiling is collapsing.  There is mold.  It’s not in great shape.

All of this is beside the point.

The real issue I wanted to bring to light here (pun intended) is the ceiling fan/light fixture in the kitchen.

For years it was a pink ceiling fan.  With a bare compact fluorescent bulb.

As soon as I sit down in the kitchen I realize the ceiling fan is different.

It’s now a white ceiling fan.  With a bare bulb.

AND.

It squeaks.

Like nobody’s business.

Continuously.  Non. Stop. All.  Day.  Every.  Day.

Oh.  My.  God.

I wanted to rip it from the ceiling.

Now it’s note worthy to tell you about this because it’s annoying.

It’s even more note worthy to tell you about this because in 2009, Adam and I gave my  mom a brand fucking new Hunter ceiling fan/light fixture.

BRAND FUCKING NEW!

When I presented this to my mom it made her mad.

Why?

I have no fucking idea.  Probably the same reason my mom won’t let my aunt vacuum the spider webs from the ceiling.

So my mom got a new ceiling fan.  And the brand new fucking ceiling fan is still sitting in the living room in the corner, exactly where I left it five years ago.

Unopened.

Untouched.

The box is still sealed.

And yet.

She sits in her kitchen.  Every single fucking day.  Under a fan that squeaks and its  bare bulb.

I.

Just.

Don’t.

Fucking!

Get!

It!

Screen shot 2014-10-10 at 11.40.37 PM

 

PS.  The cutting board on the left I made in 7th grade.

PSS.  I still don’t understand why they painted the kitchen pink right after they bought the house!

 

 

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Maddog’s Trip Home.

I’m sure many of you thought that I’d gone away again.  Well I kind of did.  But not in the way you thought.

I just got back from 5 days in Kentucky.  I went home to visit my family for the first time in four years.  It was a much needed trip.  It was a much dreaded trip.  I really don’t like being back home.  Especially the visiting family part of the trip.

So as is my typical tradition, I’ll spend the next few days telling you about my trip.

I left last Thursday.  Flew home on a 6:45 a.m. flight.  Got to Atlanta at 9:45.  Left Atlanta at 12:15.  Got to Lexington at 1:20.  It was a very smooth trip.  One of the smoothest I’ve had in a long time.  The flights were on time.  They were crowded but not annoyingly so.  The people I sat next to weren’t too bothersome.  They weren’t bumpy.  I hate bumpy flights.  And for the first time in years I’m not scared if the seat belt will go around me.  It fits easy.   All in all it was easy.

My mom and brother were waiting for me at the airport.  My brother’s ex-boyfriend was also with them.  I’ll tell that story sometime.  I got my luggage into the car and we were off.

First stop.  Enterprise Car Rental to pick up my rental car.  We get there and it takes me about three seconds to discover that they have no cars.  Not for me.  Not for anyone else.  I’m not happy.  I express my unhappiness.  There is little they can do for me.  I tell them I’m going to have lunch and to call me when something comes in.

Which is what we do.  While we were at lunch I proceed to call EVERY car rental place in town.  NO ONE has cars.  NO ONE.  I’m stuck.  So I call Enterprise back.  They have a compact car, but it’s not what I requested.  Not what I want to pay for.  Besides I’m going to be hauling people around all week.  I say no to it and continue to wait.

After lunch I go next door to buy ice cream.  I’m stressed.  But more importantly my five days in KY are cheat days.  I’m going to enjoy every one of them.

I’ve barely finished my ice cream when I get the call that they have a car for me.  We pack up and head to get the car.

We rent the car.  My mom and I get in and we drive cross town to her house.  We sit in the kitchen and chat while we wait for my aunt and her kids to get to Lexington.  We are all going out to eat.

Remind me to tell you about the ceiling fan in my moms house.

That’s enough for tonight.  I got home very early thing morning.  At 4:00 a.m.  My friend Michelle and I drove back.  17 hours.  It was a long trip made worse by the endless rain we drove through.  I’m headed to bed.

See you guys tomorrow night.

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Maddog’s tired!

The five short hours of sleep that I got last night are not going to sustain me for long.  I’m exhausted.  I’d go to bed but I have a hard time sleeping when Adam’s not home and he won’t be home from work for at least another hour.  I’m watched TV.  Surfed the Internet.  I think it’s now time to take a shower and sip on some bourbon until he gets here.

What do you think?

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In my head!

Ugh!

I can’t get out of my head.  Not even for a moment.  I’ve been fighting in my head all night.

Not with Jen.  She was actually tolerable today.

Tonight it was with Jason.

And who is Jason?

Jason is a hotel guest.  Who sent a nasty letter to the owners of my hotel after his last visit.  Because his treatment was unacceptable.

Oh.  You want to know why?

Let’s see.  He didn’t get a personal note welcoming him back.  He didn’t get a cookie on his pillow like the first time he came to visit.  The staff didn’t bend over to kiss his ass from the moment he walked in till the moment he left.

This happened about a month ago.

I was informed of this when the owner (my boss) forwarded his email to me and the hotel manager with her concerns.

So.

Guess who was back in house today.

You guessed it.

Jason.

I knew he was coming.  My boss had already sent an email telling us to do our best to make sure everything went smoothly.

I entered the story when I see him at the host stand yelling at my lead host.

(Oh.  A little back story.  His first visit to my hotel was last winter.  Where he stayed by himself.  Had dinner in the restaurant by himself.  And then stood at the host stand and talked to me for about an hour before he went up to bed.  At the time I thought he was a very nice guy and had enjoyed the chat.)

So I walk up to the host and he turns his attention from her to me.  He acted as if we’d never met.

And thus starts his tirade.

I don’t have the energy to go into.  But the gist of it is:  He spent 50,000 dollars two years ago getting married at one of our sister properties and therefore we should spend the rest of our lives with our heads stuck up his ass.

He was mostly pissed because we don’t offer room service and the host had told him to go to the bar.  Order his food.  Wait for it and the front desk would help him carry it upstairs.  And this pissed him off.

A world class hotel should offer room service.  ETC.  Bullshit.  Blah.  Blah.  Blah.  I just stood and nodded.  Made a couple of lame attempts at explaining why we didn’t offer room service.  Tried to defend my hosts who’d done exactly as they’ve been taught to do.   Finally I just shut up and listened to him rant.

He finally said, I’ll just take my complaints directly to Tim and Deb.  (The owners)

And he stormed upstairs.

I picked up my cell phone and called Deb.  She answered which surprised me (it was 5:30 on Friday night) and we chatted.  And I got the real scoop on how she feels about Jason.  To put it in her words.  He’s an ass.  A big baby.  But mostly just an ass.

There.

I didn’t feel so bad.

She actually came into the restaurant tonight for dinner.  We chatted some more.  She really doesn’t like him.  Not at all.

The problem is now, I’m in head thinking of all the things that I should have said to him when I had the chance.  Things I should never say to a guest if I want to keep my job, but things I wish that I could say.  I argued with him all the way home.

He doesn’t leave until Monday.

Ugh!

Did I mention that I hate people.  Especially rich pretentious people.

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