Maddog Responds.

As a follow up to last night’s post.

I tried all the methods mentioned in the comments to fix the problem.

I yelled at Adam.  That didn’t do any good.  He just yelled back.

Actually I didn’t yell at him.  I hardly ever get mad enough to yell.  I didn’t even get upset with him.  I was just pissed at myself.

The next day I called a pharmacy to see what I would need to get enough pills to get through the weekend.

I would need a prescription it turns out.

So I called my doctor.  He doesn’t take calls on the weekend.  So that was a bust.

I called my mail order pharmacy.  That too was a bust.  They were about as helpful as syphilis.  It of course took ten minutes to get through the press one for English, press two if  you are a doctor bullshit.  Then of course the prompter asks me to give my name.  My birthday.  Etc.  Which I then had to do again when I finally got through to a person.

Who said to me.

“You just have to take a prescription to the pharmacy and they’ll fill it.”


He then asked me if I had a prescription from the doctor.

To which I replied (as Adam glared at me from across the room) “If I had a prescription I wouldn’t be on the phone talking to you.  I’d be at the pharmacy.”

I then asked if they could transfer my prescription to the pharmacy so that I could get enough for the weekend.  I was told they could not.

So I was left without an option on a Saturday afternoon, four states away.

This would also be a good time to tell you how fucked up my mail order pharmacy is.

Twice they’ve sent my prescriptions to the wrong address.

Once the charged my order to a credit card I’d given them from my first order, which took the card over it’s limit, which cost a small fortune.

Once they filled a prescription without my asking for it to be filled and causing me to overdraw my checking account.

At least twice it’s taken over three weeks to get my prescriptions so I had to get a prescription from my doctor to fill the gap.

And they tell me that it’s good to use them because it will save me money.

I hate calling them.  I hate dealing with them.  They pretty much suck.

Of course I have to hold my breath right now because I currently have an order in with them.  Let’s hope it doesn’t take three weeks to get the order and that they send it to the right address.


Don’t blame me.

I was doing so well, and then bam I miss almost an entire week of posting.


So Maine was kind of sucky.  Of course it was Adam’s fault, not that I’m one to point fingers.

On Friday morning Adam got up early to get the car.  I showered and packed while he was gone.

He managed to get the car in time to go to McDonald’s for breakfast which is one of his favorite things to do.

He got here around 10:30 and we were in the car headed north by 11:00.

Of course, as I’m walking down the stairs to get in the car I realize that I only have one of my gloves.  I mention this and say, what the fuck, do I really need gloves anyway.  And Adam says, “go back and get your gloves.  We aren’t even in the car yet.”

So I go back up the stairs, unlock the door, set my bags down, and go find my glove.

I retrace all of my steps and there you go, we are on our way.

Friday was great.  We saw all of our friends.  We chatted.  Michelle and Lisa bought us dinner in honor of Adam’s birthday.

And then it’s time for bed.

Which is when I realized that I couldn’t find my dopp kit.  Besides having my deodorant, tooth brush, etc in it.  It also has my medication in it.

We both searched the car.  We search all of downstairs thinking I might have dropped it there, when I came in, because I had to go to the bathroom.

Alas.  It was nowhere to be found.

And thus began the sucky part of the weekend.  I take four medications for depression.  It’s not like I’m going to become suicidal if I don’t take them.

What it does mean:

1.  I won’t be able to sleep.  I’m not sure which one does it, but I can’t sleep through the night if I don’t take it.  I’ll go to sleep, wake up around 90 minutes later, and watch the clock the rest of the night.

2.  I become woozy and feel like I’m about to have an aneurism.

So when I crawled out of bed on Saturday I was beat.  I slept about two hours.  And by the middle of the afternoon the crazy head stuff was happening.

Saturday was filled with some serious conversations.

By the time we went to bed at 11:00 I was a zombie.

And of course I went to bed and I don’t think I slept at all.  I was a mess by the time we got up on Sunday morning.  By early afternoon, we’d decided to cut our losses and come home early.  We left Maine around 2:00.

Of course the problem presented  then was that it was 2:00.  Adam is good for driving till about 5:00 in the evening.  It was going to be much later than that when we got home.  So it was going to be a chore for him to stay awake which meant that I couldn’t doze on the trip because I needed to make sure that he wasn’t dozing.

It was a VERY long drive home.

Clearly, we made it one piece.  I do have to admit there were a few times we were tense with each other.  I felt like shit, and Adam can get a little cranky when he’s tired.  Luckily we didn’t kill each other.

The dopp kit was sitting on the table right where I placed it.

And there you have it.  The whole trip would have been great if Adam hadn’t told me to go back upstairs and get my glove.


It was ALL his fault.

My life sucks…con’t.

Tonight sucked.  Donkey dicks.

My first table of the night stiffed me.

My last table of the night left me 14 dollars on 140.  After sitting at my table for three hours.  After not paying the bill for 30 minutes after I dropped it.  Even though they were the only table in the restaurant.

It really sucks when you get your affirmation from people who leave you money on the table.

Which is just like getting your affirmation from whether your blog readers are out there when they don’t leave comments.  Yes, I’m fishing for comments.

Thank god, I’m off for the next four days.

Adam and I are driving to Maine tomorrow morning.  We’ll be there till Monday.  We are so ready to have a few days away from home.  If only we didn’t have to come home.  Or at least back to waiting tables in NYC.

We should probably stay home and take down our Christmas trees.  Two of them are still up.  Our cleaning lady, who came today, thinks we are crazy.  She wasn’t impressed with the state of our home because there are plastic bins every where waiting for us to take down our trees.

Luckily I convinced Adam that a weekend away was better.  He’ll be mad at me next when the tree is still up.

What can you do?

Okay.  I should go to bed.  I have to be up to pack in four hours.

I’ll try to post while I’m gone.


Think before you speak…

I got home early tonight.  So I don’t understand how it’s already 3:00 a.m.  Where did the night go?

I did something tonight I that never do.

I was rude to a guest.  Blatantly rude to a guest.  I realized that as soon as I said it, I was in trouble, but it was already out of my mouth.

My section, along with the sections on both sides of me tonight, had a reservation at 8:00.  They arrived around 8:15 and were sat.  There was a little confusion at first because they’d brought along five extra people that had not been part of the package and that didn’t have seats reserved for them.  Our restaurant is quite good at providing the exact number of chairs that you need.  Not tables.  But chairs.  I say this because you’ll get a party of fifty and people eventually discover that they might not be able to sit with people they want to because the table count doesn’t break down that way.  You have three groups of four students who are forced to sit in two six top tables, one group is going to have to be split up.  After some scurrying around, and getting chairs, everyone finally had a seat.

I did my thing.  I took drink orders.  I get food orders.  The five people who are extra are ordering off our regular menu because they are not part of the original contract.  I have two of these people.

I get the whole thing in the computer.  I get the drinks to the table.  I get ketchup and mustards.  By now the food is hitting the tables.  Soon everyone is eating and all is well.

I keep drinks filled.  I joke around with the adults.  I get them all cookies.  I clear all the plates.  Dinner is over.  All is good.

In fact it’s so good that one of the adults at the table hands me a ten dollar bill for taking such good care of them.

So I drop the check for the two girls who ordered off the regular menu.  They had two veggie sandwiches and two waters.  I think their check was 30 dollars.  With the grat it came to a little more than 35 dollars.  I go back a few minutes later and I pick up their check with their money.  I count it and realize they are 5 dollars short.  They are gone but I tell the teacher.  She goes and gets them and they come back and I tell them they are five dollars short.

I don’t remember the exact details of the conversation except for this part:

“It says the gratuity is voluntary so we are voluntarily choosing not to pay it.”


I kind of look at them like they are stupid.

I don’t remember much else that was said except for this:

“Well I guess it doesn’t matter.  The other lady sitting at your table already took care of me so I guess you can say she’s a little nicer than you are.”

And I walked away.


My whole motto is to kill them with kindness.

It’s just these girls were 15 and as someone at work pointed out, they were being cunty.  They were doing this because they could .  It was there little show of force.

I wish that I’d handled it differently.  As they say hindsight is 20/20.

I didn’t know at the time but contractually they had to pay the tip.  When a group makes a reservation they are told that any thing that is ordered off our regular menu will include a 20% tip.

What I wish I’d said is, “Okay.  Can you point out your group leader?  Because I’m going to have my manager come out to discuss this with him.  I’m sure they can work something out.”

Now I have to worry that next week someone’s going to call work and I’m going to get fired.  They’ve been on a firing spree at work this week.  Four people have been left go since Monday.  All for stupid shit.

One girl got a bad survey. (There are a couple of people I’d like to get fired by doing bad survey’s for them.)

One girl lied on a application for another job about what she did at our restaurant.

One girl got into an argument in the kitchen with a co-worker and called her a pussy.

And one girl was fired because her drawer was off three times in one month.

Nothing like a little job security to make one sleep well at night.


Hi. My name is Maddog and I’m a _________________.

I love fighting on Facebook.  Today I’m fighting with Sam.  If you’ve been reading my blog for more than three minutes you’ll know who Sam is.  If you are new, do a search for Sam.  It will tell you a lot.  When I met Adam I told him that Sam would always be the one that got a way.  I’m glad he did.  I have something so much better now.

Sam was not in my life for a very long time.  In the late 1990’s he developed a nice little crystal meth problem, that escalated.  He eventually OD’d in NYC and almost died.  It was that incident and his behavior toward me after I cared for him for a week in the hospital that led me to cut him off completely from my life.

He was resurrected about three years ago when he sent word that he had gotten his life cleaned up, was in recovery, and was finally trying to fix the things he’d allowed to become broken.  I’m very proud that he has almost three years under his belt.

That being said.  He’s becoming what I refer to as a recovery diva.  He knows all there is to know about recovery.  He knows how it’s supposed to be done.  How the meetings are to be led.  etc.  etc.

I know all of these things.  I sat in 12 step rooms for almost five years being one of these divas.  I think when I look back on things I was a much nicer, much better person using, than I was being a diva.

Yesterday Sam, complained on Facebook that the speaker didn’t stay on recovery.  She spent too much time on “the mess” and not enough time on the message.  I heard in him, who I used to be.  And I didn’t like it.  And I said as much.  Here is our exchange:

    • Sam: Here’s a question…how do you feel about a speaker that shares their story and just five minutes before the end they mention the program and how they are living today.

      Greg:  Almost as good as I do about the one who gives an intellectual dissertation on each step in order sprinkled with literature quotes. Whatever happened to people who just sat in a room talking with each other like old friends? When did everyone start sharing for the benefit of the “audience?”
    • Maddog: Hmmm. A little less judgement Mr. Sam. The speaker shared what he needed to share tonight. If it kept you sober today then I’d say he said the right thing.

      Sam: I wasn’t judging, I was speaking the truth. Ask anyone and they’ll say a speaker should spend the vast majority of their time on living clean today and not war stories from the past. (Since I don’t have all the answers, I asked several people with a lot of time and thats what they said.) As for me staying clean another day, that person had nothing to do with it…thats was me and God.
    • I’m not telling you how to live your program. But I do know from experience that when spending time at a meeting becomes about judging the content of the meeting then more often than not you’ve lost sight of why you are there in the first place. And don’t forget that although you didn’t like what you heard look around the room and see if anyone else did hear something good. And if its only you and god.that keep you sober then forget the meetings and stay home and watch glee.
      Sam: I wasnt judging. Im stating a simple fact. The woman spent 40 minutes speaking about her drug use and 5 speaking about recovery…those are the facts and I simple asked people (IN RECOVERY, which your not) how they felt about it. Now, you want me to judge…let me judge…she did a horrible job of carrying the message. (See our literature to find out what that message is.) And I asked some other people there as well “What did you think” and they said the same thing I did….less mess and more message.
    • Matt: Short Of Being Entirely Ready. Thank God Sam’s not sober. He’s clean.
      Maddog: Sam. I’m not trying to piss you off. But the fact that you are so fired up about this speaks volumes about what I’m about to say.
    • No. I’m not in recovery. Now. I attended meetings for almost five years in a 12 step recovery program. Not for drugs, but the foundation is the same. It’s all based on the same 12 steps whether you are addicted to meth, cheeseburgers or dick. They are all the same. I also know that one of the reasons that I stopped going to meetings was because of people like you. I sat around the room and listened to people talk. I sat at fellowship and listened to people talk. And I soon realized that it wasn’t recovery they were talking. They were no longer letting the meetings lead their lives, they were leading the life of the meeting. For me, I eventually realized that I was much happier, and in many ways more sober (call it what you want. A friend of mine who’s been sober off alcohol for damn near 25 years says he’s sober I think he knows what he’s talking about) out of the rooms than I was in the rooms. The reason I had come into the rooms had stopped and I no longer experienced all the drama that came along with going to meetings.

      And trust me I know all about drama. It took me about three weeks to find myself on the A list. I went to all the right meetings. I sat with all the right people. After I got 90 days I was asked to chair meetings and speak. When I had two years I was the go to man when you needed a “real” speaker to stay on topic. I’ve spoken in meetings with almost 150 people in attendance. I think I know about speaking. But as you know getting sober leads you down a path that can be very eye opening, and one night I was sitting at fellowship at a very happening Chelsea restaurant and I looked around me and I realized that I didn’t like what I saw. No one sitting there was talking recovery. They were talking about how crazy Harvey is. And can you believe that Sean has slipped once again. And that fucking speaker, going on and on, and on, and on. Will someone please just tell him to shut up before he even starts next time. And I don’t give a fuck if you wanted to pick up because you burned your toast. If you’ll pick up over something that stupid than you deserve to go out. As you can see, serious recovery talk.

      With in a week I stopped going to the meetings I had gone to. I stopped going to fellowship with these people. I got a new sponsor. And you know what. In about three seconds I was on a better road to recovery. And you know what else. Within a month not one of those so called A list friends was calling anymore.

      As for not judging. You ARE judging. The woman who spoke at your meeting said WHAT SHE NEEDED TO SAY TO STAY SOBER. That was the reason she was at the meeting. She was asked to do service. She stepped up to the plate and did it to the best of her ability. She is on a much different path than you are. And you are on a much different path than she is. Whether you liked it really isn’t the point. In fact it’s never the point. Did she share her story in an effort to keep you and everyone else in the room from picking up. My guess is she did. You didn’t like it but she did. The fact that you ask others in the room if they agreed with you and they confirmed they did doesn’t make you any more right and doesn’t make it any less judging. Of course you found people to agree with you. When I was going to meetings I always had people to agree with me. That’s what friends are for.

      As for less mess, more message. The thing I miss least about recovery is all the little slogans. I found them to be annoying then I find them to be annoying now. You know. Sometimes it’s good to be reminded of where you’ve come from. Three short years ago I wouldn’t even have been your friend on Facebook because of they way I’d been treated by you. I know you are changing. I can see it every day in your posts. And that’s why I’m happy that you are in my life again. But sometimes, not every time I agree, it’s good to be reminded of where you’ve been. I doubt very seriously this woman romanticized her years of using. It would be my guess that she spoke about the things that she lost as a result of using. Lost jobs. Money. Friends. Lovers. Or perhaps wrecking the car. Or waking up in strange man’s bed for the third night in a row. Sure it would be nice if she eventually got to recovery but trust me, I bet she reminded more than a few people in the room last night that picking up was not a good idea then and it will definitely not be a good idea now.

      Here’s my challenge to you. The next time you find yourself in a meeting not liking what you hear. Ask yourself is it them? Or it you? Most of the time it’s going to be you. It really is what you are bringing to the table. Also ask yourself if your response is helping you stay sober or helping you work your program. Ask yourself if your response is helping the other people in the room stay sober. Program is a two way street. You have to look out for number one, but if you aren’t doing all you can to help everyone else then the whole thing falls apart.

      And I’ll end on this. No matter what you thought about last night’s meeting. Whether you agree with me or not. Complaining about it on Facebook is NOT the way to discuss it. The rooms need to be kept safe. For everyone. You assume that she will never know about these comments. You assume a lot. You should never cause people to fear sharing by posting your thoughts about their shares on Facebook. When you do you’ve ceased to keep the rooms safe for everyone. And as innocent as you think it is, people have gone out for less.


I hate my fucking life.

It’s 4:00 (4:26 now) a.m.  I should be in bed.

Unfortunately I’m not sleepy.

Unfortunately I have to be back at work in 3.5 (3 now) hours.

Which means that I have to be on my way to the subway in 2.75 (2.25 now) hours.

Which is going to make me one VERY unpleasant guy tomorrow today.

I also got a lesson in telling the truth today.

Tomorrow Today is the yearly all staff meeting.  It’s a chance for the head honchos to tell us what a great job we’ve been doing.  How are numbers are higher than ever.  That life couldn’t be better.  Which is why you have to sell frequent flyer memberships, we’ve raised your insurance premiums by 80 dollars and well, you get the point.

This meeting starts at 8:00.  I’m supposed to be there by 7:30 to clock in and eat breakfast.  Which used to be a full buffet.  Now it’s just a bagel and some juice.  It will last until about 10:30.

Here’s the rub.  I closed tonight.  I didn’t get home until almost 2:45 a.m.

I have to leave for work at 6:45.

If you need to, get your calculators out.  That means I will be home for four hours.  Four hours for dinners, email, blog, shower before bed, shower before I leave, and I’m forgetting something…OH.  YEAH.  Sleep.

I’m too old to go without sleep.  It will fuck with me for the next three days.

So.  Being the upstanding employee that I am, I went to management today and told them I wouldn’t be in.  That I couldn’t close tonight, be at the restaurant at 7:30 the next morning, and close tomorrow night.  I was just too old to do it.

And I was told.

That is was not a valid excuse.


What would be a better excuse because I can come up with something better if you give me two seconds.

Yes.  I was told that it wasn’t a valid excuse and that I would be expected to be there.

And the moral of that story.  I should have just not gone.  There will be many people who just don’t show up today.  They will “over sleep”, or “forget”  or have a “doctor’s appointment”  or something.  Yes.  If I’d just kept my mouth shut I’d be on my way to bed in about fifteen minutes, to sleep for eight hours before going to work tomorrow night.


I’m going to go nap on the couch.  I don’t want to sleep in bed because, 1.  I’m afraid that I won’t wake up.  2.  I don’t want to wake Adam when my alarm goes off four times.  3.  I might just decide to turn the alarm off and say fuck it and go back to sleep.

So.  I’m going to nap on the couch.  And then I’ll go to my fucking meeting.  And I’ll eat my fucking bagel.  And I’ll listen as they tell me that our restaurant did 50 million in business this year.  And I’ll pretend that I’m interested.

And you know what pissed me off the most.

You know the reasons I was given as to why to be at the meeting:

1.  There are going to be raffles.

2.  And prizes.

3.  Including two jet blue tickets.  (Given as two separate prizes so you’ll have to pay the way for whomever you take with you.)

4.  And metro cards.

5.  And several 50 dollar gift certificates to Dave and Busters.  (The fucking video arcade restaurant.)

6.  And there will be the employee video that promises to be more fun than ever.  (and the thing about this video.  It’s the same five people in the video each year.  And it’s the same five people doing skits that are only funny if you are 22 and still drunk from spending the night at the bar and not in bed.)

So I’m supposed to attend a meeting not because it has value, but because there will be prizes.  and food.  and movies.

Will someone please explain to these people that I’m NOT.  repeat.  NOT.  12.  or.  22.  or.  32.  or.  even 42 for that fucking matter.  I don’t fucking care.  Give the Jet Blue ticket to someone who does care.  Give the Dave and Buster’s gift certificate to one of the five year olds who spent the night texting and then complaining because they only made four dollars.

Let me get some fucking sleep so that I don’t stick a fork in your eye tomorrow night during my shift.


Messy, messy, messy.

Our apartment is a mess.

We have Christmas decoration boxes every where.  Only one tree is down so most of them are empty.  They are stacked in our foyer, in our living room, and the full ones are on the bed in the guest room.

We also still have two Christmas trees that are up.  My mother told me that if we didn’t get them down soon we should just leave them up.  Hmmm.  It’s a thought.  Adam has been busy this weekend with a cake that is due in two hours.  I’d start doing them by myself but he’d be distracted with his need to supervise me.  I often tell him that I lived a long time without him.  I can do things by myself.

Last night I moved the furniture around to it’s new location.  This was of course with his approval.  My vote didn’t count very much.  The furniture is moved.  The tchotchkes are still in piles around the living room.  I knew better than to even try.  Adam is very particular about these things.  He has a good eye so I don’t argue much.  As long as there are certain items that make the cut I really don’t care.  Tonight when we get home from delivering the cake I’ve insisted that we take one hour, with the timer on my watch, to figure out where they all go.  I figure with a time limit we won’t spend hours stressing about the angle of one photograph.

He’ll also decided about placement of lamps.  I’ve blogged on here many times about the number of light sources in our living room.  There are a lot.  I placed the lamps where I thought they’d go.  He has to approve them.  Once they are approved, I’ll wire them with dimmers and then put the whole room on a series of remote controls so that each area of the room can be turned on from the foyer.  It’s not as complicated as it sounds.  I do recommend it though.  It’s fun AND it impresses your friends.

Once that is done we’ll collapse on the sofa and watch TV. I have no idea when the other trees will find themselves in boxes.  Or when the rest of the house will be put back into its original location.  It will happen though.

It has too.  We are renting a car to go to Maine next weekend and we want to use this car to take everything back to storage.

Maddog’s Very Long Day…

Yesterday was a very long day.  I got to bed around 4:30 on Thursday night and was out of bed at 9:00 to head to the doctor.  I got there at the exact time of my appointment.  This is virtually impossible to do in NYC.  You are either 20 minutes early.  Or 20 minutes late.  I’m always early.  At least I try to be.

The appointment was pretty routine.  I’ll tell you more when I know more.

I then went to work, where I was supposed to work on creating a new side work chart.  I didn’t want to do this but Daniel, my boss friend, volunteered me.  What was I supposed to do?  Unfortunately I was early.  By two hours.  So I bought lunch and hid in a closed section of the dining room.  This however, did not stop people from coming by and asking why I was there so early.  Of course the people that were supposed to be meeting me were late.  So we barely got anything accomplished once they got there.  By this time I’m exhausted.  It’s hard at 46 to run on only four hours of sleep.  So when I was offered the opportunity to go home, I took it.  I need the money but sometimes you have to take care of yourself.

So I came home and napped on the couch while Adam worked on a cake.  The cake is for a bar mitzvah that was today.  I tell you about that later.  I napped.  We climbed into bed around 11:30.  I don’t remember him turning off the TV or the light.  The only thing I remember is him nudging me this morning telling me it was time to get up.

A good night’s sleep is an awesome thing.

In a nutshell

Work pretty much sucked tonight.  Not pretty much… it did.  My first table of the night left me 2.75 on their 117.25 tab.  My last table of the night left me 2.00 on their 133.00 tab.  Yeap.  That pretty much summed up my night.  The parts in the middle were mostly the same.  I’m starting  to wonder what I’m doing wrong.  I don’t think I’ve changed my approach.  I don’t think I’m being rude.  I don’t think I’m inattentive.  And still they don’t leave money.  It really has been weeks since I’ve had the “throw money” at me kind of nights.  And yet I strive on.  Trying to keep my head held high.

I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning.  It’s a little scary.  I’ll share you the details when I know more.  Let’s hope I’m just overreacting as Adam has suggested.  He’s being very supportive and I appreciate that.

I finished reading a book last night.  My most favorite thing about reading is finding those books that let you become friends with the characters.  I love finding a book that I can’t wait to pick up and continue reading.  And I especially like books that I feel like I’ve lost a good friend when it’s all said and done.  The book I finished last night was like that.  I started a new book tonight.  I hope that I make friends with it’s characters as well.