Sitting in haphazard, scattered, angrily-tossed pages and parts of pages all over my computer desk. It's finished, basically, just not put together into a cohesive body of work. You see, all of my words became angry ones. I lost my sense of comedic angst, along with my penchant for doing things in a manner which teaches.

What happened to me is simple, and can be summed up in 2 words -

chain
restaurant

Oh, the horror! THE HORROR!!! I need a Xanax just thinking about it! And a double Scotch!! STAT!!!!!

Of course, as bad as it was, I have to admit that the recession certainly didn't help matters. Having moved during that recession to a small eastern NC town exacerbated said horror.

So, there it is, all straight up and simple as to why I now can't seem to put all my hard work into palatable words:

chain restaurant
small town
recession

FML

This topic comprises an entire chapter in my book, and, since it's been on my mind quite a bit recently, I really want to address this topic soon. Unfortunately, it's after 3 in the morning right now, so I doubt I do much "addressing" tonight. Also, I seriously doubt that I'll recount the whole chapter here on the blog, but I DO want to hit some of the high points. Check back later in the week for my rants and raves (and even a bit from THEIR point of view).

In the meantime, if any of you would care to share your horror stories of these mostly-Nazis, please feel free.

Since the Super Bowl is this weekend, I thought "Good Block" was an apropros title for this entry. In football, a block is a good thing, a really good thing. In writing, not so much.

For those of you who have been keeping up w/ my book, you may recall that I felt I might honestly be heading into the homestretch. (Sorry for another sports reference.) Well, all of that has changed since I've been blocked. I've changed chapter names, removed content from one chapter and put it in another, changed ideas in midstream ... ok, you get the picture.

My book is now in 3 different areas of the house, scattered and in a completely meaningless fashion. I have notes on barnaps, scribblings on pieces of order tickets, one idea on a piece of scrap paper, another idea on another scrap of anything I could find at the time, and then entire paragraphs and parts of chapters written on legal pad paper or computer paper. The more I look at it, the more I find things I want to change. And the messier the notes become.

Does Tony Bourdain ever have this problem?

Did you think I was finished w/ my rant about ol' RR? Nooooooo, my friends, far from it. Actually, in the book it's more of a hurricane-sized tirade than a mere March wind rant. Oh, and by the way, I'm only mentioning her name by initials from now on, because each time I use her name an ad for her products ends up on my damn blog! In case you weren't aware, we, the bloggers, have no control over what ads are showcased on our blog sites. The ads that appear are based on what the topics are in the blog writings.

I know all you RR-lovers are wondering what the hell more I could bitch about. Nothing. It's the same fucking thing I was bitching about before. The tip thing, her being a celebrity, her being on the Food Network w/ this, and her being what SHOULD be a role model for the American public who's so in love w/ her Pollyanna ass.

It was humorous, yet anger-provoking, the other night when, as I was watching Tony Bourdain, ol' RR came up in conversation on his episode. Humorous because I had just the other day written some of what's in my book about her on here, but raising my ire because I found out that she DIDN'T, in fact, tip 15% at the place at which Tony was eating in South Carolina. We, as viewers, were told by someone who appeared to be the owner of the eatery (or at least someone who had been working the day RR was there) that Miss I'm-just-a-regular-person had tipped her server TEN FUCKING PERCENT. Yes, I said TEN. Nothing tears me away from Tony when he's on, but I was almost torn away that night so that I could come in here and tell y'all that, in the way most Southerners do things, I wanted to very mannerly go find this smiling little shit and kick her ass w/ my heaviest, most pointy-toes boots, all the way to Italy, along w/ her cheating, Mafioso-looking hubby.

I was newly outraged and incensed about this 10% fact because, when watching that $40 dollar a day program in its first season, I remember having calculated her food, along w/ tax and tip, for one particular episode. My ass nerves had already been pinched because I knew by then that she only tipped 15%, when she no doubt was getting the ass-kissing service of her life. So on one episode (I think she may have been in Denver, but I'm not certain), I got on the computer and looked up that city's tax code. Sure enough, that city's tax rate jived w/ what was shown on the screen, but it let me know that she had tipped a mere 15%, and the tip was to the goddamn penny. Although I don't remember the exact details, let's say the tip, at 15%, should have been $1.76. So why not leave at least $2.00? No. She left the exact $1.76.

Her message to people across the U.S.? Leave only what you have to, and leave it to people who, no matter how fabulous the service, make little more than $2.00 per hour. I tried to be somewhat PC about her in my earlier posting, but now I'm PISSED. I'm pissed finding out about the 10% thing because it means we've all been duped by her. And by the Food Network. What, you think they didn't know this? C'mon, people, take some reality drugs.

I wrote RR, through the Food Network, those many years ago when I found out the to-the-penny 15% thing. I never heard back from either of them (big surprise). Now, though, I'm seriously thinking of declaring a campaign ... waging a war, so to speak. What RR has done, and what the Food Network has allowed her to do, is beyond reproach. Don't take that wrongly. I'm not blaming the ENTIRE Food Network, just the people who worked on and produced her show for them. They duped us by providing false information about her tips. Isn't there something about false advertising that could help w/ this???

I'm going into my shoe closet to find my heaviest and most pointed-toe boots right now.





the bohemian

Back in the restaurant business again.

You know that old cliche that each sex says about the other? You can't live w/ them, but you can't live w/o them? That's me and the restaurant business.

I could kick my own ass for loving the restaurant business the way I do. It drives me totally insane. Yet, there I am, right back in it. And I loved every minute of it tonight.