Enough with the Humor, Taco Man

I got hungry around 11 this morning. This did not surprise me as I had eaten only a granola bar and an apple for breakfast. I was at a good stopping place in the work I get paid for, so I got in the car and drove in a direction I don’t normally drive in search of food. I was vaguely aware of a new set of eating establishments that opened recently on the edge of my little college town. I wanted to see what was available. I found a new outlet of a local taco chain – nothing Mexican at all about the name; I’ll just call them Redneck Bob’s as they are not paying me for advertising. When I worked in the nearby industrial town I would often frequent this chain and though I don’t normally consider myself a real fast food kind of guy, I will admit that they’ve got some pretty darn good tacos – nice and basic, heavy on the grease.

I rolled up to their drive through speaker box and some Redneck Bob’s employee’s voice mumbled something unintelligible. I told the yellow speaker box that I would like to purchase three of their basic greasy tacos. The Redneck Bob’s employee in the yellow speaker box mumbled something unintelligible that I took to be the amount of money I would owe after driving to the next window. I drove to the next window. A middle-aged man in a Redneck Bob’s polo shirt waited for me, framed by the little glass windows that I knew would swing shut after he took my money.

“How much did you say it was?”

“Ten ninety-nine,” he said completely straight-faced.

“For three tacos?” I did not raise my voice, but I raised an eyebrow, allowing a bit of annoyance to creep through.

The Taco Man smiled a gigantic funny Taco Man smile. “How about four forty-nine?”

I handed him a twenty dollar bill. He gave me change. I counted the change.

Maybe my sense of humor was off because I was hungry. That could very well be. But when I’m sitting in a fast food drive through I want quick, efficient, courteous service with a smile. I don’t need comedy. I really don’t need bad comedy. I just need tacos. That is all. Thanks for playing.

(Not that I update this forum very frequently at all under the best of circumstances, but I feel the need to say that it is unlikely there will be any posting of any sort during the week of August 28, 2006 as I will be on a writing retreat in the Middle of Nowhere, USA.)

BoyJake Is a Novelist

While still in Vancouver, I completed the first draft of my novel. I returned home and over the course of a couple of days typed the last five chapters and printed everything out so I could hold it and gaze upon it. The manuscript weighs in at 217 8.5" X 11" pages. It feels good. Now I get to take a break from the thing and get back on some short stories and screenplays.

Thanks for playing.

Please Don’t Take the Chairs, You Savages

My company sponsors Internet cafés for a very specific group of medical professionals. Internet cafés require tables and chairs – preferably one chair for each Internet station. Yesterday I found that my fellow exhibitors are savages who are too lazy to go find their own chairs – and they are shameless about it. Did I mention that they’re savages? They are. Savages, that is.

I came down early to finish setting up and I found a very helpful hotel worker who got me the chairs I needed. I did what I needed to do and I went upstairs to put on proper work attire (as opposed jeans and a t-shirt) and my game face. I came down to find that I was missing two chairs. I wandered around until I found another uniformed gentleman who was happy to bring me some more chairs. I had barely sat one down when the guy in the booth next to mine grabbed it and took it to his booth.

“Excuse me, sir!” I said, loud enough for him to hear, but trying to be polite.

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring it right back,” he said in a thick Jersey accent.

He didn’t bring it right back. He didn’t bring it back at all. I found another uniformed gentleman who brought me another chair.

I overheard another exhibitor, a woman, ask another exhibitor about where she might acquire a chair. I saw him point over to where I sat at the Internet café. The woman walked over and grabbed a chair.

“Excuse me, ma’am. We need those for the Internet café,” I said, as politely as I could.

“Well, somebody suggested that I get my chair from here,” she said, like I was some sort of asshole who should honor the suggestions of everybody no matter how asinine.

“I wish he hadn’t,” I said, no longer trying to disguise my frustration.

I always think of the cool thing to say too late. I should have said: “So if I suggest that you fellate me in the mens room, that’s gonna happen too?” I didn’t say that. I’m not that quick.

Thanks for playing.

BoyJake Types from Vancouver

This is me recommending Canada - Vancouver anyway. I've been here less than forty-eight hours and I'm already in love with this place. It's like Minneapolis, but it feels bigger to me - it's not - Vancouver is only 44 square miles to Minneapolis's 58.4 (thanks, Wikipedia). It's cleaner than any U.S. city I've ever been in (sorry, Minneapolis) and everybody up here seems to be in a good mood. For once I'm glad that a people are living up to their stereotype - these Canadians are pretty damn polite. The assholes up here are really nice people and even the ugly people are beautiful. I may never leave.

I got up, got some Canadian cash out of the hotel's machine and wandered out in search of a coffee house where I might work on my novel. I didn't get far before I found a diner and my stomach usurped my literary intentions in favor of French toast - but truth and beauty on the page must be fueled by something - it might as well be fried egg bread and maple syrup. Sufficiently nourished I took a long walk down Georgia street where the only independent (i.e. not Starbucks) coffee outlet I found was closed...so I kept walking. I walked until I found a Starbucks. I learned about the existence of Canada's two dollar coin when I thoughtlessly tossed my coins in the tip cube and realized that I gave my sweet Starbucks barista a 100% tip. The good news is that it's just Canadian money.

I finished Chapter 22 and started Chapter 23. When I found myself with writer's cramp I decided to move on back toward to the hotel. I stopped at a Canadian chain drugstore (the name escapes me, but signs all over the place said "Proud to be a Canadian company!") where I bought some pens (I was running out of ink) and three KitKat Dark bars - I don't know if they even still sell KitKat Dark in the states - I haven't seen it if they do - I'll pretend I'm treating myself to something special.

On the way back I took a different route along the harbor where I found a few non-Starbucks cafes that I may try out before I leave. I took a nap and Brenda called to chat for a bit. That's always a swell way to wake up.

I'm supposed to set up our tradeshow booth in about an hour, but that won't take long.

The photo is a public art bear statue - there are different themed ones all over Vancouver and I like them.

Thanks for playing.

Living Room Picnic

Today I'm finding life to be good and pleasingly uneventful. The recent highlight was a swell European style living room picnic with Brenda Sunday night after I returned from Chi-town (I never got into the city proper - just ended up stuck out by the airport with the company people). I came up with the idea on the plane. I would go to our local fancy grocery store and get the best bread, cheeses, meats, berries, grapes, wine and chocolate they had to offer and spread it out for us on the floor of my living room.

Brenda was headed to the lab when I landed and would be hard at work for several hours. She liked my idea so when I got to town I headed straight for the fancy grocery store and stocked up on what I would need. Brenda brought over one of her favorite movies, Moulin Rouge. I'm not normally a musical sort of guy, but I dug this movie a lot. The colors, visuals, music and story stirred me and experiencing this with all of the great food and the company of this beautiful woman that I love made for a very special evening.

So yeah, I was thinking that not enough had happened for me to make a whole post out of recent events, so I was going to write about my recent trip to Ireland. I'm not going to do that now. Instead I'm going to head out to meet my writing group (they're critiquing chapter 21 of my novel tonight). The photograph is one I took on the Antrim coast of Northern Ireland in April.

Thanks for playing.