6/28/13 - "The Tea Monster"
Blogger's Note: I'm late. I hate that. Having a strict schedule, a deadline if you will, has kept me on an honest weekly schedule of blogging posts. I know me well enough to know that if I procrastinate once then I'll procrastinate twice and that'll snowball into the inevitable end. But this time it wasn't really my fault. Well, not really. You see, I'm not too computer savvy. Yesterday, I fired up my blog, had Mason Jennings radio playing on Pandora, and sat at the keyboard ready to type away. But when I clicked in the "composition" field, the cursor just wouldn't stay in there. I tried this and I tried that and I got Joanna involved until.. Jeremy suggested I try uninstalling/re-installing Google Chrome. And voila. But, by then, half the morning was gone... and I just wasn't feeling it anymore. So, I was going to write it last night. But, Amelia was having a crying fit (a really epic one), and I just wasn't feeling it.
So I'm up this morning ready to go on an idea I've been brewing over all week. I promised last week that I was going to try and focus more on some narrative writing; and, as I was brainstorming this all week, I began to remember that lesson I was supposed to learn about not promising anything in future posts. Because, really, there's not a story to tell on a weekly basis. My life's not that exciting. Amelia is still eating, sleeping, and pooping. Roman is doing that same, ol' toddler stuff. DJ is still in Teenage Wasteland. And Joanna and I are hanging in there. So, if there's a story to tell, it's not going to be from the here-and-now.
And then I got an idea. What if I didn't tell a story, but I told the story. Our ""How We Met" story? The one where I usually respond that she was a mail-order bride, and she usually responds that "she did it for a green card." And the more I thought about it, the more I began to realize... hey, this is a pretty good story...
But the biggest problem was writing something that could be read in one sitting. I think a good blog post can be read in about 10 minutes (I've exceeded that before, and it looks like I might do it again today). There are some really fun and exciting plot points that I'm anxious to get to. But if I try to get all the way to some of these "points" in one post, well, you'd be reading for a full hour or more... so I had to break it down. I began to form a mental outline and tried to connect the chronological dots with markers that might form a complete story in a way that will keep you coming back for more.
So, I guess I need your help a little bit. I just need your patience. I'll try to make each post as entertaining as I can, but you'll just have to take my word. If you promise to come back, I promise to tie this package in a nice, big ribbon by the time we reach the end. And, the frequency? Well, this I don't know... I suppose it will depend on how exciting (or mundane) my current life is going. But I promise to add another chapter at least once a month.
Here, take my hand, step back in time with me... it's December 2006; and, at the time, I had no idea this would be the start of a story...
Chapter 1 - The Tea Monster
"Number six!" Matt rounded the corner, carrying a pitcher filled mostly with ice. I didn't look up from my lemon-slicing duty; I was in the zone. And those of us that know Matt can tell the difference between his tone of mock frustration and actual anger. "Have you ever waited on this guy? He's working on his sixth glass of tea..."
"Which table is it?" I asked still slicing lemons even though we already had plenty. I liked cutting lemons; the repetition was a form of meditation that allowed my mind to stray from the fact that I was waiting on tables in a buffet on a riverboat casino.
"The third two-top in the front," he replied. I set down the knife and peeked around the corner.
Mid-afternoon in the buffet is the slowest time of the day. The few customers that were eating sat quietly as the sound of chattering silverware telegraphed through hushed conversations. A stray laugh from one of the girls at the Hostess Station alleviated the trance, but not by much.
"Oh yeah... I remember him..." I had waited on that guy last week I went on to tell Matt. "I think I refilled his tea like ten times. Just give him the pitcher..." I joked.
Matt dumped the ice left in the pitcher in the sink before he turned to address me again. "That's the Tea Monster..." he explained. Matt was known for his impressions. He was really good, too. He did Christopher Walken, Nicholas Cage, Smeagle (from "Lord of the Rings"), and various co-workers. I knew he was about to do the Tea Monster... whatever the hell that was...
He cocked his elbows back and hunched over. His eyes began darting about like a velociraptor. I turned to watch. Matt's antics were always worth a smile and were sometimes peppered with something worth outright laughter. This might be good.
He opened his mouth and produced a sound that didn't seem human. It came out in a loud, short burst a bit like a siren. He closed his mouth and the sound stopped. I stared in amazement, studying him with wonder. I was impressed; this was the best impression he'd ever done. He opened his mouth and exhaled the sound again. It was really loud. I looked around wondering if maybe it wasn't too loud...
...and that's when I noticed the fire alarm above his head flashing. And while the realization that it, indeed, wasn't Matt making the sound, I was still impressed with his improvised composure to maintain the illusion that it was him. It took a few seconds for me to process this sudden revelation before I sprang into action. Matt was now laughing hard, content with the notion that he'd got me. And now I was laughing as well. But we had work to do for, after all, the fire alarm was going off.
I walked briskly to my section to the handful of customers that remained, trying to stop laughing.
"Sir," I began at the first table I came to, "the fire alarm has sounded. Everyone needs to make their way to the exit."
"My food is gonna get cold..." he replied gruffly.
"If it turns out to be a false alarm, you'll be welcome to come back in and help yourself to another plate from the buffet," I explained. From the corner of my eye, I could see Matt encountering similar troubles.
"Can I get a to-go box?" the Tea Monster was asking him.
"Sir, everyone needs to head towards the exit now," he said with a respectable amount of professionalism. My customer was finally getting up. The Tea Monster looked frustrated. He gulped down the last of his sixth tea before coming to his senses, wiping his face with his napkin, and standing.
Once all the customers were on their way to the Main Ramp, Matt and I began heading to the back towards the Employee Ramp. The excitement of something different happening on an otherwise mundane day filled the air. Cooks, cashiers, servers, and card dealers were briskly making their way outside as the fire alarm (which sounded exactly like the Tea Monster) continued to blare.
Walking beside me, Matt began to laugh again. Amid all the excitement, his laughter was infectious. I, too, began to laugh. The timing on that had been serendipitously perfect. In the parking lot, everyone began to scatter to their department's preassigned location. The buffet's was on the far corner.
We reached our destination as the supervisor confirmed that everyone was there. Firetrucks and ambulances began to arrive. Over the years, there had been a handful of false alarms or minor incidents that triggered the alarm system. We were all assuming that this was just another one of those.
December winds whipped across the Ohio River and stung our faces. We hunched in a circle with our arms crossed or our hands in our pockets. In the hurry to evacuate, we hadn't had time to grab our coats, and the excitement was beginning to fade.
Also on the backside of the parking lot, but on the other end, a group of people I didn't recognize huddled together. They were wearing "Visitor's" badges, and fashions that didn't appear to be local. Many were Hispanic. One girl in bangs was wearing a long coat and a scarf. She was laughing along with the other strangers as they, too, seemed to be caught up in the frenzy.
"Ok!!! We've got the all-clear!" someone yelled across the parking lot. "Everyone can go back in!"
It was, indeed, a false alarm. I had my hands in my pockets, and I was shivering as everyone quickly began to make their way back to the warmth inside.
I took one last look at the strangers across from me. I didn't realize it then, but it would be the first time I saw her...
(....to be continued.)
Continue our "How We Met Story":
Chapter 2 - The Pollock and the Donkey
Blogger's Note: I'm late. I hate that. Having a strict schedule, a deadline if you will, has kept me on an honest weekly schedule of blogging posts. I know me well enough to know that if I procrastinate once then I'll procrastinate twice and that'll snowball into the inevitable end. But this time it wasn't really my fault. Well, not really. You see, I'm not too computer savvy. Yesterday, I fired up my blog, had Mason Jennings radio playing on Pandora, and sat at the keyboard ready to type away. But when I clicked in the "composition" field, the cursor just wouldn't stay in there. I tried this and I tried that and I got Joanna involved until.. Jeremy suggested I try uninstalling/re-installing Google Chrome. And voila. But, by then, half the morning was gone... and I just wasn't feeling it anymore. So, I was going to write it last night. But, Amelia was having a crying fit (a really epic one), and I just wasn't feeling it.
So I'm up this morning ready to go on an idea I've been brewing over all week. I promised last week that I was going to try and focus more on some narrative writing; and, as I was brainstorming this all week, I began to remember that lesson I was supposed to learn about not promising anything in future posts. Because, really, there's not a story to tell on a weekly basis. My life's not that exciting. Amelia is still eating, sleeping, and pooping. Roman is doing that same, ol' toddler stuff. DJ is still in Teenage Wasteland. And Joanna and I are hanging in there. So, if there's a story to tell, it's not going to be from the here-and-now.
And then I got an idea. What if I didn't tell a story, but I told the story. Our ""How We Met" story? The one where I usually respond that she was a mail-order bride, and she usually responds that "she did it for a green card." And the more I thought about it, the more I began to realize... hey, this is a pretty good story...
But the biggest problem was writing something that could be read in one sitting. I think a good blog post can be read in about 10 minutes (I've exceeded that before, and it looks like I might do it again today). There are some really fun and exciting plot points that I'm anxious to get to. But if I try to get all the way to some of these "points" in one post, well, you'd be reading for a full hour or more... so I had to break it down. I began to form a mental outline and tried to connect the chronological dots with markers that might form a complete story in a way that will keep you coming back for more.
So, I guess I need your help a little bit. I just need your patience. I'll try to make each post as entertaining as I can, but you'll just have to take my word. If you promise to come back, I promise to tie this package in a nice, big ribbon by the time we reach the end. And, the frequency? Well, this I don't know... I suppose it will depend on how exciting (or mundane) my current life is going. But I promise to add another chapter at least once a month.
Here, take my hand, step back in time with me... it's December 2006; and, at the time, I had no idea this would be the start of a story...
Chapter 1 - The Tea Monster
"Number six!" Matt rounded the corner, carrying a pitcher filled mostly with ice. I didn't look up from my lemon-slicing duty; I was in the zone. And those of us that know Matt can tell the difference between his tone of mock frustration and actual anger. "Have you ever waited on this guy? He's working on his sixth glass of tea..."
"Which table is it?" I asked still slicing lemons even though we already had plenty. I liked cutting lemons; the repetition was a form of meditation that allowed my mind to stray from the fact that I was waiting on tables in a buffet on a riverboat casino.
"The third two-top in the front," he replied. I set down the knife and peeked around the corner.
Mid-afternoon in the buffet is the slowest time of the day. The few customers that were eating sat quietly as the sound of chattering silverware telegraphed through hushed conversations. A stray laugh from one of the girls at the Hostess Station alleviated the trance, but not by much.
"Oh yeah... I remember him..." I had waited on that guy last week I went on to tell Matt. "I think I refilled his tea like ten times. Just give him the pitcher..." I joked.
Matt dumped the ice left in the pitcher in the sink before he turned to address me again. "That's the Tea Monster..." he explained. Matt was known for his impressions. He was really good, too. He did Christopher Walken, Nicholas Cage, Smeagle (from "Lord of the Rings"), and various co-workers. I knew he was about to do the Tea Monster... whatever the hell that was...
He cocked his elbows back and hunched over. His eyes began darting about like a velociraptor. I turned to watch. Matt's antics were always worth a smile and were sometimes peppered with something worth outright laughter. This might be good.
He opened his mouth and produced a sound that didn't seem human. It came out in a loud, short burst a bit like a siren. He closed his mouth and the sound stopped. I stared in amazement, studying him with wonder. I was impressed; this was the best impression he'd ever done. He opened his mouth and exhaled the sound again. It was really loud. I looked around wondering if maybe it wasn't too loud...
...and that's when I noticed the fire alarm above his head flashing. And while the realization that it, indeed, wasn't Matt making the sound, I was still impressed with his improvised composure to maintain the illusion that it was him. It took a few seconds for me to process this sudden revelation before I sprang into action. Matt was now laughing hard, content with the notion that he'd got me. And now I was laughing as well. But we had work to do for, after all, the fire alarm was going off.
I walked briskly to my section to the handful of customers that remained, trying to stop laughing.
"Sir," I began at the first table I came to, "the fire alarm has sounded. Everyone needs to make their way to the exit."
"My food is gonna get cold..." he replied gruffly.
"If it turns out to be a false alarm, you'll be welcome to come back in and help yourself to another plate from the buffet," I explained. From the corner of my eye, I could see Matt encountering similar troubles.
"Can I get a to-go box?" the Tea Monster was asking him.
"Sir, everyone needs to head towards the exit now," he said with a respectable amount of professionalism. My customer was finally getting up. The Tea Monster looked frustrated. He gulped down the last of his sixth tea before coming to his senses, wiping his face with his napkin, and standing.
Once all the customers were on their way to the Main Ramp, Matt and I began heading to the back towards the Employee Ramp. The excitement of something different happening on an otherwise mundane day filled the air. Cooks, cashiers, servers, and card dealers were briskly making their way outside as the fire alarm (which sounded exactly like the Tea Monster) continued to blare.
Walking beside me, Matt began to laugh again. Amid all the excitement, his laughter was infectious. I, too, began to laugh. The timing on that had been serendipitously perfect. In the parking lot, everyone began to scatter to their department's preassigned location. The buffet's was on the far corner.
We reached our destination as the supervisor confirmed that everyone was there. Firetrucks and ambulances began to arrive. Over the years, there had been a handful of false alarms or minor incidents that triggered the alarm system. We were all assuming that this was just another one of those.
December winds whipped across the Ohio River and stung our faces. We hunched in a circle with our arms crossed or our hands in our pockets. In the hurry to evacuate, we hadn't had time to grab our coats, and the excitement was beginning to fade.
Also on the backside of the parking lot, but on the other end, a group of people I didn't recognize huddled together. They were wearing "Visitor's" badges, and fashions that didn't appear to be local. Many were Hispanic. One girl in bangs was wearing a long coat and a scarf. She was laughing along with the other strangers as they, too, seemed to be caught up in the frenzy.
"Ok!!! We've got the all-clear!" someone yelled across the parking lot. "Everyone can go back in!"
It was, indeed, a false alarm. I had my hands in my pockets, and I was shivering as everyone quickly began to make their way back to the warmth inside.
I took one last look at the strangers across from me. I didn't realize it then, but it would be the first time I saw her...
(....to be continued.)
Continue our "How We Met Story":
Chapter 2 - The Pollock and the Donkey