Grammy and I went to Petco today to get Daisy some puppy shampoo since she smells and ended up getting her a new toy. We decided to get her a Kong to combine her two favorite things: food and toys.
Grammy keeps referring to the kong as "the bong." She doesn't realize she's saying the wrong name.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
Dogpatch Conclusion
The man who hired me gave Jon Gold $20 for me and said he wanted to give me the full amount but the manager wouldn't let him. So, essentially I got my drinks paid for Saturday night, then got $20 for coming by and not getting anything the next day. Sweet.
The Dogpatch Saloon
This last Saturday, I went to San Francisco with some friends from Davis to go bar hopping. We were staying with Jon Gold who lives by AT&T Park in the Dogpatch, and started the night out at the Dogpatch Saloon, the sole dive bar near his apartment. The bartender was wasted and incapable of doing basic addition (she couldn't add 4 and 10) and seemed unsure about drink prices. We went to a few other bars around the city, but at the end of the night ended up back at the Dogpatch Saloon. There was now a different bartender who seemed more familiar with the bar.
My friends started getting tired and leaving, until just two of us were left in the bar finishing our beers. The bartender and I started chatting and he asked me what I was doing the next day from 4 to 8. I said nothing and he asked if I wanted to come back and tend bar. I agreed, and since I had been drinking was very intent on coming back and tending bar to prove my commitment to this job. I woke up the next morning and remembered that I had agreed to work. My friends left the city and I spent the afternoon shopping downtown to pass time until 4pm.
At 4, I went down to my new job. The man who had hired me was not working but the old African American men greeted me by name when I showed up for work and were insistent that I stick around and meet the owner even though the girl whose shift I was apparently meant to cover had shown up unannounced. They asked me to stick around for 30 minutes, then sent me down into the basement to meet the owner - a man with a large mustache whose office was located amongst tons of normal home basement crap. His main concern wasn't that an employee had essentially hired a drunk girl off the street to come in and work after finding her in the bar around 2am but more that I thought I would be tending bar when he had been looking for more of a cocktail waitress. I know nothing about bartending and the prospect of working at this bar seemed to be quickly disappearing - they seemed interested in someone who could work at least part-time and lived in the city. When asked if I was a bartender elsewhere, I replied, "No, I actually work in the wine industry." As if that explained this entire situation I had gotten myself into. I was asked to speak with the man who hired me the night before via phone to try to fix this mix-up about bartending versus waitressing. He said something along the lines of, "I thought we had discussed your work duties last night - but it's hard to remember because we talked about so much last night. Either way, you deserve to get paid, can you come by tomorrow night between 6 and closing? I'll be working then." Although I live in Petaluma and there is no way I will be in between those hours on a Monday night, I said yes to try to accelerate the process of getting this experience over with. I'm sending Jon Gold in as my representative tonight, and we'll see what happens. To be continued.
My friends started getting tired and leaving, until just two of us were left in the bar finishing our beers. The bartender and I started chatting and he asked me what I was doing the next day from 4 to 8. I said nothing and he asked if I wanted to come back and tend bar. I agreed, and since I had been drinking was very intent on coming back and tending bar to prove my commitment to this job. I woke up the next morning and remembered that I had agreed to work. My friends left the city and I spent the afternoon shopping downtown to pass time until 4pm.
At 4, I went down to my new job. The man who had hired me was not working but the old African American men greeted me by name when I showed up for work and were insistent that I stick around and meet the owner even though the girl whose shift I was apparently meant to cover had shown up unannounced. They asked me to stick around for 30 minutes, then sent me down into the basement to meet the owner - a man with a large mustache whose office was located amongst tons of normal home basement crap. His main concern wasn't that an employee had essentially hired a drunk girl off the street to come in and work after finding her in the bar around 2am but more that I thought I would be tending bar when he had been looking for more of a cocktail waitress. I know nothing about bartending and the prospect of working at this bar seemed to be quickly disappearing - they seemed interested in someone who could work at least part-time and lived in the city. When asked if I was a bartender elsewhere, I replied, "No, I actually work in the wine industry." As if that explained this entire situation I had gotten myself into. I was asked to speak with the man who hired me the night before via phone to try to fix this mix-up about bartending versus waitressing. He said something along the lines of, "I thought we had discussed your work duties last night - but it's hard to remember because we talked about so much last night. Either way, you deserve to get paid, can you come by tomorrow night between 6 and closing? I'll be working then." Although I live in Petaluma and there is no way I will be in between those hours on a Monday night, I said yes to try to accelerate the process of getting this experience over with. I'm sending Jon Gold in as my representative tonight, and we'll see what happens. To be continued.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Daisy
Grammy and I adopted a puppy this weekend. Her name is Daisy and she's a 3 1/2 month old Lab/Border Collie mix. She's soooo relaxed and really sweet.
Children Are Dumb
When my dad gave me my 2003 Prius, the only thing wrong with it was the remote control only unlocked the backseat and passenger doors, and the driver's door needed to be locked manually. Because I've never had anything stolen from me, and my family left our front door unlocked for most of my life, I just got used to not locking my car. I just kept it completely empty and only locked it in bad neighborhoods.
The other night, someone "broke in" to my unlocked car and moved a sweatshirt from the back seat to on top of the trunk. The only thing they had taken was a broken Powerbook I was about to pay Apple to recycle for me if I couldn't find someone on Craigslist who would take it. They left behind an empty jam jar and a large string of oversized heart beads.
I was driving to work this morning and went to plug my iPhone into the tape adapter. Gone. I drove to work listening to the radio. I have another tape adapter that is broken - WHY didn't they take that one instead of ripping the adapter out of my tape deck? I rummaged through the center console. It seemed surprisingly empty. They also stole my green-armed "Go Ags" wayfarers. Clearly, the thieves were children.
Luckily, they didn't take my Fastrak, my hiking boots, or my tennis racket. And now they're stuck with a broken Powerbook without a charger and I don't have to deal with it anymore.
The other night, someone "broke in" to my unlocked car and moved a sweatshirt from the back seat to on top of the trunk. The only thing they had taken was a broken Powerbook I was about to pay Apple to recycle for me if I couldn't find someone on Craigslist who would take it. They left behind an empty jam jar and a large string of oversized heart beads.
I was driving to work this morning and went to plug my iPhone into the tape adapter. Gone. I drove to work listening to the radio. I have another tape adapter that is broken - WHY didn't they take that one instead of ripping the adapter out of my tape deck? I rummaged through the center console. It seemed surprisingly empty. They also stole my green-armed "Go Ags" wayfarers. Clearly, the thieves were children.
Luckily, they didn't take my Fastrak, my hiking boots, or my tennis racket. And now they're stuck with a broken Powerbook without a charger and I don't have to deal with it anymore.
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