Your Pa
Pa's in a foul mood. "Pa" they call him, "Your pa...", whoever is talking about him it's always the person they're talking to's pa.
And he is. "I'm not fucking-a buying any more pens, you fucking-a buy your own,...." It's payday. One of the girls has told me that his foul moods sync almost perfectly with payday. And he's off on various tangents, swearing and throwing things, pens, anything is liable to set him off....
Between shifts I have to go to the bank. It's good to escape.
And while I'm waiting for service, sitting down, there's a burst of tellers through the front door, carrying a cake and oversized novelty cheque for $15,000 (or thereabouts) - the head teller, some sort of personage within the bank, makes a speech thanking the staff for their hard work, they're the #1 rated bank in the province for this, and #3 for that, and as a result they've got a bonus coming to be split between the employees in the amount displayed on the cheque.
All the full time employees will get a $1,000 bonus. Part timers will get a pro-rated bonus. Tellers are hugging each other and jumping in the air for joy. And they have more prizes....paid time off and travel vouchers for high performing employees....
And I'm sitting there watching, as they're offering around the cake, and I'm thinking I need to get a job here, or someplace like here, the incentives where I work, (Bust your ass for 60 hours a week and if you're lucky you won't get yelled at or fired), the incentives, they're not so good, and the juxtaposition of work environments is so stark....
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- Category: Miscellany
Mr. Cappuccino
It's 2:00, time for my nap but the Cappuccino machine has been acting up and Mr. Cappuccino has come round to fix the valves.
I used to blog about my dreams, but I dream so seldom now that I've chosen instead to blog about the interruptions to my intended naps.
Mr. Cappuccino, he's surprisingly quick, figures the problem's a worn and leaky valve, replaces it, the Cappuccino machine is working perfect.
But he has to test it, and so makes me an espresso and has me taste it.
"The grind of the coffee is all wrong" he tells me, it's too coarse, it should be finer. The perfect espresso should take 18-23 seconds to pour.
And so he empties the coffee grinder, resets it, grinds another espresso, makes it and has me taste it. Thoughts of my nap are slowly evaporating like the steam from the espresso.
"Still too coarse..." he tells me "Should be finer. The grind of the coffee has to be set every day. You should adjust it depending on the weather outside. If it's wet or moist, grind it coarser. If it's dry grind it finer. Never grind more than you're going to use right away, the beans will oxidize once ground... think of it like a fine wine..."
He's passionate about his coffee. He empties the grinder again, resets it, grinds some more, makes me yet another espresso. "Perfect" he says, and has me taste it. He's proud of his coffee. "I make better coffee than the Italians".
He gives me some more tips regarding the maintenance of the machine, the service men always do, I make notes so I can share them with the staff; then he leaves.
3 espresso's and I'm ready for my nap.
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- Category: Conversations
Something to look forward to...
I need something to look forward to.
There's the vacation, 12 weeks away, 3 weeks off the beginning of August, but after that, then what? If I don't get a move on it'll be back into the same pile of ...
I don't want to do another Christmas.
There's the weekend, well, Saturday garage sales and Sunday I can look forward to seeing the kids, but the expectations are so high, time is short, nothing gets done.
Lottery tickets, but they only raise one's hopes for 2 or three days before dashing them.
I've taken to online shopping, ordering crap from ebay and other online vendors, I don't need anything, but there's the anticipation of a present, a parcel, coming for me in the post...
Resumes, I should be putting them out, but there's the whole - "What to do if I get a job when I need my benefits and I want to go away in August...."
It's complicated.
Life in the present, it doesn't bear considering, it's all "work work work", and so I make time to set trivial goals, win the lottery, come up with my prime number theorum, my explanation for irrational numbers, even these things don't get done, the job, it has to go, it's the only thing I have to look forward to...
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- Category: Miscellany
#1 Bowness to Forest Lawn
There's a poem in there somewhere....
It runs across Calgary from ghetto to slum, then back again. Now maybe it's the hours I take it, respectable people take the bus from 7-9 to get downtown to work, then again from 4-6 from downtown to get home again, but when I take the bus, given the odd hours I work, it's a different crowd completely.
Teen single mothers pushing baby carts. Guys on their cellphones, the cellphone just the polite prop, really they're talking to the whole bus..."Just got out of prison....yeah, 2 hours ago...is she waiting for me?...tell my kids I miss 'em, eh?....Tell her I'm still hard for her...Yeah, missed them something fierce....just got out 2 hours ago...". Old folks coming home from the legion. Strangely made up old ladies and their shopping trollies, other people trying to carry on conversations on their cell phones but prison dude, he's talking too loud and they have to yell to to make themselves heard. The weekend stop in Kensington, more inebriated passengers board, people chatting at the stop get separated in the rush to get on, almost about to get lucky but he or she has disappeared and they don't care, they can make new friends, the sober talking loudly about the 12 steps in AA, what step they're on, the not so discreet fraternity of unrepentant and reformed alcoholics...
I could drive, I don't have a car but I could get one, only it doesn't work into the budget, not now, there are still too many bills to be paid. And the bus is cheap, it's quick enough, and somewhat entertaining in a circus-sideshow kinda way...
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- Category: Miscellany
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