:: Out of Spite, Out of Mind ::

:: Friday, October 11, 2002 ::

"Dis" story (well, it's not really a dis, but it made me feel stupid): I was sitting at the bar alone, an attractive girl and her friends sat next to me. I realized that she was someone I knew, but I forgot her name. She was a regular customer at Higashi West and I'd always talk with her, kinda flirt with her. A seemingly nice, sweet girl (note to self: beware the nice,sweet ones- they are the worst sometimes). Anyways- I cracked a stupid joke and she kinda laughed nervously... then I asked her "hey, didn't you used to come in to Higashi West in Palo Alto for drink club?" I KNEW it WAS HER... She didn't quite hear me, so I repeated myself. I don't know if she heard me or not but she said "no". I said "oh, you look familiar."

And that was that.

The messed up thing is that I was sitting alone at the bar- I must've come off as some random barfly/scumbag. Also, the question wasn't a line, but maybe in her self-aggrandizing mind it came off as one. I don't know if she got freaked out or just plain didn't remember me- which is odd because she used to call me by my name regularly when I was a bartender...so I have to rule that out too (she was sober too!) Maybe in my civilian garb I had been robbed of all my coolness and prestige. A commoner...another stupid dude, with a stupid line (it wasn't a line though!!!). Later on, I saw her from across the bar and our eyes met briefly. She of course, pretended like she wasn't looking and darted away immediately. Oh well, it's probably for the better because I didn't have enough money for another drink anyway and also if she's gonna be lame like that- then well...she can definitely forget me! It sucks that people have to put up barriers like that...I guess I can understand her feeling defensive or something, but I don't understand flat-out pretending like you don't recognize someone when you obviously have seen that person many times! I think it was Bjork who said "I'm so sick of cowards!". I guess I need a brave gal... (and it'll take a brave gal to like me indeed)

:: Ol Man Factory 10/11/2002 03:07:00 PM [+] ::
...

(note: blogger hates me- it's the 5th time I've written this)

Getting back into the swing of things I guess. I feel like I'm overbooking myself- It's strange because just a few weeks ago I felt like I had all the time in the world (and I did). My only "real" nagging worries were how to pay rent/bills (yikes!) and what I was gonna do with my life! The first one is kind of taken care of...not quite as sure about the latter. I pretty much got the guitar teaching job in Sunnyvale (it is at the Presbytarian Church, where my lil sis Naomi went to pre-school!) and also the jazz bar I applied to wanted to hire me. I went in to train one night, but had to turn it down. Why? Well, here's an account of it that I wrote a week ago:

Anyways- here is it in a nutshell:
The jazz club hired me. I went in to train tonight. It was easy as cake- then I got some hints through observation and from the girl that trained me that it might be a jacked up job. 1) it pays less than minimum wage. Illegal! 2)The cash register is archaeic, totally unforgiving error-wise. It took the owner's wife 15 minutes to change the receipt paper 3) They hired me for a "happy hour" that they have on Fridays... it is supposedly out of hand crazy...and Ghetto. This is how "A" the girl who trained me described it:
"it is completely ghetto, people screaming at you, not tipping you, really snotty and disrespectful and very picky."
They want me to work that tomorrow...I didn't get paid for training either, basically I went in and learned where everything was, worked for an hour and a half...then I asked if I could leave because I wasn't even on a clock. So I left.

I decided to celebrate my employments by going to Drink Club (by myself because no-one I know in the city was available/enthused about going) That's ok though, I got some dirt on the jazz bar from the bartender after I told him I got hired there.

Bartender: Oh... that place (smirking) dude- that place is ALWAYS hiring. See her? (points to other bartendress) She worked there...hated it. The owner? HE'S A PUNK!

That was the last straw. I didn't even bother asking the bartendress because I didn't wanna hear the details. Also, a girl had just dissed me and my self esteem was melting like the ice cubes in my whiskey.

:: Ol Man Factory 10/11/2002 09:10:00 AM [+] ::
...

Workin' for peanuts. No- actually I don't even get the nut...more like working for the salt on the shell of the peanuts. I'm not complaining, there are cool things about this job...for example: I get to wear other people's food and beer, people generally ignore me and I am usually the last one there cleaning up. Also, I feel completely drained physically, and feel like I am completely wasting my time/life. Oh shit, these were supposed to be cool things. I guess I am complaining.

Actually in all seriousness there ARE some cool things. I will list them in no particular order.

1) cool people- generally everyone I work with is cool. The guys call me "the man" and the girls call me "hon". It is a constant, steady flow of affection that I don't get at home. (the mexican kitchen guy pointed at me yesterday and called me "Chinese" as if it were my name. I pointed to him and called him "Mexico". The weird thing is that I forgot for a minute that I am not Chinese. So I yelled back "Japonais!" Then I started to think about it... is that some strange Japanese/Mayonaisse product?)
2) I get to drink beer after shifts. I haven't taken advantage of this perk yet, but it will be soon. Oh yes...sooner than you think.
3) I can people watch...this job requires constant movement and for the most part the clientele is yuppies/fratboy types but who cares about them. Oh, did I mention the constant flow of beautiful women? Not that I am a playa or that I have any game recently... but it's always nice to have a pretty girl smile at you. Oh yes it is. Moving on.
4) I get to pretend that I am a kangaroo. I am a busboy- but in my mind I am a Kangaroo- yes I hop around, yes I have a powerful kick. Most important is that pocket in my apron... I stuff everything into it! (and there's a lot of stuff to bus) Nobody told me to do it- it was totally instinct. Therefore- I am the Kangaroo.


I'm sure there are more, but I have to go to yet ANOTHER job interview now (teaching guitar in a music school in the south bay!)

:: Ol Man Factory 10/09/2002 01:17:00 PM [+] ::
...

I have stuff to write about, but I am way too tired! It's now 7:30 am and I just uploaded a brand spankin new recording (of a song I wrote a few years ago) about visiting my elementary school playground. I drove down from San Francisco at 1:30 am cuz I wanted to record it! And I did! If I sound tired on this recording, it's because I AM! Hope you like it!

Czech it owt:El Camino.

:: Ol Man Factory 10/06/2002 07:31:00 AM [+] ::
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