Ode To Donuts

July 5th, 2025

Four days ago at the coffee shop, after handling some of my business, I had a wild and intense urge to feast on donuts. I immediately typed in “donut” on Google images, to feed my desire, and I gazed upon images and images of wonderful, colorful, round, chocolate, cake, glazed donuts. It was driving me wild, and I wanted to get donuts right then and there.

I was with my sister at the coffee shop. I was speaking out loud, vocalizing my internal struggle with wanting to immediately go and buy a large amount of donuts from Kroger, but not wanting to spend money nor gorge on such an unhealthy food, as I knew I would do. Yet about two months ago, I had this wild urge to eat an entire red velvet cake, an urge I have had many times but never given in to, and I thought, that night would be the night that I finally gave in, and feasted on red velvet cake. I had earned it. However, when I went to the store, I found that all of the cakes, the red velvet included, were encased in large plastic containers, and I had recently just started my anti-plastic campaign, and I wavered, but I knew that I could not commit a double sin, of gluttony and environmental crime, and so I didn’t get the red velvet cake.

But right next to the cakes, in the bakery corner, was the rack of Krispy Kreme donuts, and they caught my eye. Perhaps I could settle for a donut, or twelve. Checking out the stand, I thought that there were many satisfying donuts for my purchase, and then I looked at the boxes, and saw that they were all entirely made of paper. That was acceptable. So I bought a whole dozen, jelly, creme, glazed, cake, chocolate, mamma mia, and I took the whole dozen home and feasted. I personally ate six that night, five in a row, and then one more later at night. My roommates had two and three respectively. One was leftover for me, the next morning – proof that last night’s donut devouring was not just a dream.

I reflected on this prior donut gorging, as I debated whether or not I should immediately go to Kroger and do it all again, because it was actually a wonderful thing. It made me feel alive and brought me incredible joy, and my roommates too. And so I was thinking, at the coffee shop now having this wild urge again, that perhaps this could be a satisfactory donut feasting as well.

I tried to justify it as that I could make a blog post about it, and that’s exactly why I am making this post now. I said that I could write a poem, being inspired by the book of fancy and fun poetry, and my sister, in her wisdom and genius, said that I should write the poem right there on the spot, as I was at the time in the midst of the urge and desire. So I did, and this is what came out of me, born out of pure, unbridled donut lusting.


Ode To Donuts

Donut

Schmonut

Gronut

Wonut

I love a diddly dang donut

Munch, smunch, yummy yum yum

Chocolate, cream, glazed, crumb

Crumbly bumbly yummy donuts

Pink brown white yellow and green

Give me a donut right now

Please

My tummy!

My tongue!

Howls for donuts!!!


I ended up not getting the donuts for several more days. My intense desire had abated rapidly. We did end up going to Kroger but I didn’t want the Kroger donuts. I had to investigate some new donuts, and so we ended up going to East Park Donuts a few days later, and having a classier donut.

One donut plus the tip cost me $5.50, whereas a dozen Kroger donuts cost $16.50, but hey. It was a nice experience, and my sister was gracious enough to buy me the strawberry donut, which was actually amazing. It had a perfect texture, being one of the sour cream cake donuts, and then the strawberry glaze actually tasted like strawberries, and not the fake strawberry flavor (you know what I’m talking about). I was afraid to get it because I was worried about the fake strawberry flavor, but my sister knew better. She knew it had that real strawberry flavor.

There was a real difference between the quality of the donuts, the biggest thing being in the range of flavors present in the East Park Donuts, and in the quality of the donut batter. The cake part of the donut. There was a significant improvement in deliciousness and quality of the bread part of the donut. When it comes to quality, East Park Donuts wins. Good for a thoughtful donut enjoyment experience, with a friend, over coffee. Kroger’s Krispy Kreme has them beat on quantity. Good for an insane, hedonistic binge at midnight, with your two hungry roommates.

We have the Donut Distillery right down the street, apparently. Donuts and whiskey? We’ll have to write another poem for that.

Have you ever had a donut binge? Any other kind of treat binge or gorging session? Let me know!!!!

An Interview With Two Crabs

July 4th, 2025

Happy AMERICA Day!!!!!! πŸ‡ΊπŸ‡ΈπŸ‡ΊπŸ‡ΈπŸ‡ΊπŸ‡ΈπŸ‡ΊπŸ‡ΈπŸ‡ΊπŸ‡ΈπŸ‡ΊπŸ‡Έ

Interviewer: “What is your favorite food?”

Crab #1: “Seaweed.”

Interviewer: “What do you like to do – “

Crab #1: “But on a fancy day, a bubble filled with salmon oil.. no, no, not salmon, we don’t eat salmon. Just a bubble. From near a Dairy Queen. The air is from Dairy Queen. It has french-fried air. That’s very important.”

Crab #1, sewing intensely: “Sewing takes a long ass time. But it’s definitely easier than…”

Interviewer: “Than what?”

Crab #1: “Easier than crocheting.”

Interviewer: “How do you spell croquet?”

Crab #1: “I don’t know. I’m a crab.”

Interviewer: “Crocheting. It’s crocheting.”

*A second crab appears.*

Crab #2: “Can I give my answer?”

Interviewer: “Sure.”

Crab #2: “Anything.”

Interviewer: “What? Oh, anything.”

(Interviewer realizes that Crab #2 is answering the favorite food question.)

Interviewer: “Okay, great. What do you like to do on your days off?”

Crab #1: “Umm.. I like to sit on a pile of gold doubloons, and rub my claws together, and go heh heh heh.”

Interviewer: “Crab #2?”

Crab #2: “Scuttle.”

(Interviewer nods approvingly.)

Interviewer: “What do you like most about being a crab?”

Crab #2: “Scuttling.”

Interviewer: “Sure. Makes sense.”

Crab #1: “I like.. clicking my claws.”

Interviewer: “Very nice.”

Interviewer: “What is your highest aspiration in life?”

Crab #2: “Thrive.”

Crab #1, to Crab #2: “Boring…”

Crab #1: “My greatest aspiration is to become the Swimness Book of World Records (the underwater version of the Guiness Book of World Records) for highest claw clacks per minute.”

Crab #2, to Crab #1: “That’s not what a crab would want. I’m detecting fake crab.”

Crab #1, sewing a sock puppet: “Could be true. How would I know what a crab would want? I was born here just like everybody else. Perhaps I was born a mollusk.”

Interviewer: “Let’s get back on track.”

Interviewer: “If you were going to be used as a food dish for humans, what dish would you like to be a part of?”

Crab #1: “Cake. Crab cake.”

Crab #2: “I morally object to the question.”

Crab #1: “Oooh, you are a real crab! You reject crab death.”

(Both crabs laugh.)

Interviewer: “Well.. umm.. You guys got any questions for me?”

Crab #1: “Is it true that you guys.. That…. Oh, I can’t think of a question.”

Crab #2: “Are we supposed to ask you a question?”

Interviewer: “You don’t have to.”

Crab #2: “Why do you love?”

Interviewer: “Why.. Why do I love..? Why not?”

Crab #1: “My question is, what store in the mall is your favorite? I wish I could go to the mall.”

Interviewer: “Red Lobster.”

Crab #1, sad: “No….!”

Interviewer: *Chuckling.*

Crab #1: “That’s not at the mall.”

Interviewer: “You know I went to Build-A-Bear once, and had a great time.”

*Crab #2 starts giving Crab #1 a crab massage. Crabs are now discussing playing DND.*

Interviewer: “Alright guys, let’s wrap this up.”

Crab #1: “Let’s scrab.. rab.. Let’s crab this up.”

Interviewer: “Any last words?”

Crab #2: “Finally! Freedom!”

Crab #1: “When I go up to heaven, I want to be a seahorse next time.”

Interviewer: “I hope that comes true for you.”

Crab #1, confident: “It will. I pray to Crab Buddha.”

Thank you to my crab interviewees who were real people channeling their inner crab for this interview. Crab #1 lines, written by: Rachel. Crab #2 has requested anonymity.

Soup

I made a soup.

Smosh came in from doing his manly car work. Such a man. I said this many times, as he was doing his car work, talking to myself. I was making a soup.

I had the ingenius idea whilst I was laying in bed, starving away. Very hungry. But I was not going to go out, and my brain got to working, thinking, thinking. What can we eat? I had black beans, but I can’t eat black beans by themselves anymore. I just can’t do it. Too disgusting. As in, the canned black beans, that are kind of mushy and gross. No, I can’t do that anymore. I had no bread. I didn’t really want bread anyway, but I kind of did, because bread is always at least alright. So, I laid in bed, hungry, and tired, from my long shift, needing rest, and recuperation, and my brain got to workin’. I have recently been making a soup, and have made it three or four times now. My brain was now starting to have ideas of cooking, which is basically the first time in my life I have ever had real cooking ideas. I remembered that I had some baby carrots, that were like three weeks old but somehow still totally fresh and fine, and I had a lotttt of kale, that was not going to be used any time soon, so thought I, because it would only be used for cooking the soup, and when was I going to make a soup again? But then I thought, well I can throw the black beans in, and I have the tomato sauce, and I already opened and used a little bit of the veggie broth I have, so, that’s it. That’s a soup right there. It’s not the soup I’ve been making, but it’s basically the same thing. And I’m starving, and I’m going to make a whole pot of that, and it will be absolutely loaded with kale, and carrots, and garlic, and I’ll use the whole can of tomato paste, instead of half the can, because, F*** it. Let’s see what happens.

That’s what I did. I cooked it up. Hanging out in the kitchen, and cooking that good ass soup up. And I ate the whole thing, as I wanted to do, because I could tell that my body wanted every scrap of those nutrients, and I was physically capable of getting it all in, if I really wanted to. But Smosh was outside, doing his car work, using some UV liquid and a blacklight flashlight to try and find a leak in his AC system, and I sat at the window and watched him do this in the darkness, as I ate my soup, which was pretty outstanding, but needed pepper, and then when I added the pepper, as in more pepper, because I had already put some in there, it was perfect. The whole can of tomato paste made it very citrusy, so it had a great tang, and then the kale was still crunchy, which was very important because the black beans had further mushified, and were then totally soft, but still tasty, and not a lot of chewing required. The carrots still had some bite to them too, so it was a good blend of crunchy, chunk, and mush. Very delicious and hearty. And then with the pepper, that little bit of kick. That was necessary. Smosh was out doing his car stuff, and on my third and final bowl, I thought, I should share this with him, because 1. he would like it and 2. if I really eat this full entire last bowl, I will be suffering. So I stepped out and said, “Smosh? Smosh? Want some soup?” And he did. I set him aside some, and then he came in and grabbed the bowl, and sat down with me at the table. Now, here is where there was some interesting dialouge and banter, that I can perfectly capture because it literally just happened. I was already saying to myself, and have said to Smosh before that he is a manly man. He has tools, and a tool belt, and does car repairs, and today he went to Lowe’s and got more tools, and then was just working on the car. So he came in, and grabbed his bowl, and said, “Thanks honey bun.” And I said, “A bowl of soup for my hardworking husband!” Something like that. I think it was a little funnier, whatever I actually said, and I said it like a little old housewife might say it, in that kind of voice, and he laughed, and sat down with me. And then we were actually having a family dinner time, and I did think, I’m kind of being like my mom here, for the first time, actually cooking something and offering it to someone else, nurturing the family, you could say, with my delicious cooking, and I asked him about the car, and he told me about what he was doing, and then I said some interesting things, and he said, after I was finished saying my interesting things, “What?” Because he had immediately gone into his phone, and was now doing whatever he was doing on his phone. And I said, in my little housewife voice, “Oh, just like usual, phone at the dinner table! So much for dinner time bonding!” Something like that. He had no response, being on his phone. And then I added, “This is why I’m sleeping with other men.” He still didn’t answer. “You probably didn’t hear that either,” I said, and got up, being finished, and having no reason to keep sitting at the table, because he had still not responded, and our extremely short conversation was now over. I got up and walked over to the sink, rinsed out all the dishes, and put the dishes in the dishwasher, by which time Smosh had finished his soup, and handed me the dishes and said, “Put these away like a good housewife!” And I said, “Yes, of course!” But to myself, I was thinking, which, isn’t it how funny this is? This was all just acting. But to myself I was thinking, Smosh, you are actually on track for being cheated on by your wife. You are actually perfectly emulating the behavior of a man who drives his wife to feel unloved and uncared for, and seek the companionship and attention of another partner. And I almost thought to say this to him, but I didn’t.

If you think about it.. Smosh came into my room when I had gotten home from work, and I asked him how his day was and what he was up to, and he told me that he had gone out and gotten tools and done things around the house (good manly man, I told you), but he forgot one crucial thing, that I would have liked, probably, which is that he forgot to ask me how my day was. I didn’t need to particularly tell him, but I would have liked him to have asked me that. And isn’t this also, a common complaint of wives?

I feel like I have unlocked a new skill of cooking soup. I really first put it together, the fun in picking out a recipe, going to the store and securing all the ingredients, and then cooking it up, and eating it, when I was in New York. When I lived with the gay couple, Ben and Chris (shoutout to Ben and Chris if you happen to be reading this ever, I still think about you guys and you are awesome) they had a vegan cooking cookbook, and there were many simple and delicious recipes in there, and when I was really bored, in the winter as well, same as now, I picked out a few and did just this thing. And now, a full year later, I’ve done it again, recently, with this soup. I found the soup recipe on the side of the veggie broth box, Kale and Cannellini bean soup. And that was when I really, for the first time in my life, felt the fun in what I’ve just described, in cooking. What I’ve really noticed about it, that I felt then and have felt again recently with making these soups, is that it is a truly calming and relaxing activity. It’s actually something to do, that nourishes you, and relaxes you, and takes up a decent amount of time, and makes you feel good, and exercises creative powers, and if you’ve never done the recipe before, teaches you something new. AND you can share it with people, and make them happy. That is A LOT of power of good in an activity. So, I plan on cooking more. And, when I went home for Christmas, my mom, knowing that I am interested in baking bread, got me a cooking magazine special edition BREAD, with like over 100 breads and bread type things like muffins, that I am itching to crack into, but I am intimidated, because I’ve never done it. And I don’t know what I would use for the baking, the pans, and the measuring equipment, and the kneading, the rising, etc.. But I know already that it is only a matter of time. It’s in my mind now, there is a space in my brain that is now dedicated to finding a way to start baking bread.

With the soups I’ve already made, and being a vegetarian, and with how much I love soup and beans and vegetables, and bread, having a deep, passionate love of bread, it makes sense for me to be a bread and soup man. I feel like, if I just specialized in making soups and breads, that would be such an incredible skillset for me to have. They also actually completely go together, because what do you want to eat with your soup? Bread, of course. Oh my god. It’s genius.

A Day In The Life

What the f*** is up motherf***ers!!!!!

The date is January 28th, 2025.

I am 29 years old living in East Nashville, in the great state of Tennessee. I am a shift supervisor at Starbucks. As of about a month ago.

I play guitar every day, if I can.

I have two roommates, living in half of a duplex building. The walls of my cube are lined with Yayoi Kusama artworks, Nirvana pictures that I taped up after ripping apart a little picture book that was in my deluxe Bleach album, and a tapestry that I got when I was living in Ozu, from a local Indian restaurant that I frequented, and an Aerosmith record in a nice display case, the record is Draw The Line, which came from my father, that I am borrowing, and the display was a Christmas present from Smosh, one of my roommates, who I still have not gotten a present for, as I have just remembered.

I also have two plants, and a row of books, I would guess about twenty or thirty, and some other nicknacks. I have a desk, a couch, a dresser, two guitars, an old drum that I picked up at Goodwill for $12 and am trying to sell……..

Alright, I’m getting tired of this.

The point of my writing today was to write about some things in my life, to capture them as I have done in the past…..

Today I destroyed Bush Honeysuckle stumps with a beast of a man named Don, who was about 6’2″ and seemed to be over 60 years old, but he was strong and didn’t need to take a break once. We spent a solid two hours swinging a mattock, which is like a pickaxe on one end and a spade on the other, for digging up tenacious plants, and chopping roots up with clippers. We quickly worked out an effective and efficient system, we were really a great team, of circling the plant, digging out around it with the mattock, hunting for roots, locating them and digging them out, and then cutting them with the clippers. I was generally doing the work with the mattock, but Don wanted in on it and worked with it too, and when he did it was amazing to see. He was particularly good at scooping out the ground and digging it up with the spade. After we would hit something, you could tell if you hit a really big root because there would be a thunk, and you could figure out where the major roots left were after you had already cut some, because you could put the pickaxe part of the mattock under the root ball and lift, and you would see where the ground moved, and that’s where the roots that were still holding the stump in the ground were. Or, if it didn’t move at all, you knew that you still had a lot of roots to find and cut. So we would dig up all around the stumps, and find the roots, and cut them, and go back around, and test the stump, and in this way we had a great process going, and we got out about six or seven Bush Honeysuckle root balls. I wish I had a picture to show you, one of the root balls was so large that I could barely hold it up. It was that heavy. He was a great worker and we were a good team, I think because both of us were now seasoned in the work, he had definitely done this kind of thing before, and also because we were both completely 100% about the business. We were not there to chit chat. We were there to tear up Bush Honeysuckle stumps, and that’s what we did, and did it very well.

There were about eight of us there this time around, volunteering. Eve was there, who I had met before, and Patrick, who is a group leader, and I met a guy named Boston who it was his first time, and he had a cool shirt on that looked like some kind of modern thrash metal band shirt, and I said, “What’s your shirt all about?” And he told me it was a local artist, called, Nordista Freeze. It was a cool shirt. And then we talked about the things that you talk about, why we were volunteering and etc. I am a group leader too but this time I was just a regular old volunteer. In case you didn’t think I was anybody special, you should know that.

While we were working, we were just outside of the fence that encapsulates the large Shelby Park dog park. And halfway through us working, a fight broke out among the dogs. There were about 12 dogs running around, conglomerated in the middle, and a fight broke out in the middle of this pack, and there was screaming, and a woman ended up on the ground, and there was a lot of screaming. I think that a dog was first being attacked, and then I don’t know exactly but the woman probably ended up being attacked, because she was laying on the ground for awhile. It was hard to see because it was far off and there were people and dogs all crowded around, I think there were only girls over there too. While this was happening, I thought about jumping over the fence, and running over there and trying to help. This thought did enter my mind, and for some reason I decided against it. I thought, let them handle it, I’ll only get it in the way. But on the way home in the car, I thought, what if they didn’t handle it? What if they needed me? I don’t know what I would have done exactly, but if no one else was kicking the dog in the face, I probably would have done that. I remembered that you are supposed to lift a dog up from the hind legs, to get it to let go of something. I had researched what to do in a dog fight after there was a fight at the dog shelter I volunteered at in Thailand. But in the moment I probably wouldn’t have remembered that. I thought then about an event that I had read about in my introductory psychology class, in which there was a woman being assaulted and murdered (sorry, it’s dark) in the courtyard of an apartment building, and there were many people who witnessed the event, because she was screaming loudly, but not one of them went down to help her, and nobody called the police. The takeaway was that most people just watch, because they think someone else is going to do something, and then no one does anything. When I read about this in my psychology class I thought, as we probably all do, that I would definitely have done something. But after today, which was seemingly a similar event, and I did have an urge to get involved and do something, but I decided to not do anything, I wonder what I would have done with the woman in the courtyard of the apartment building scenario. There are differences, sure, such as that in the dog fight scenario there were already people around, but I still assumed that any one of them were going to get involved, and I know that most of them didn’t. They just watched. I can’t know who exactly did get involved, because it was hard to see, but it could have been that only the two owners of the dogs did anything.

In retrospect, I think I should have jumped the fence and ran over. The least I could have done would be to run over there and see if I could have helped.

That was the interesting meat of today. So far, at least, as it is only 6:30, but there will not likely be anything more interesting than that happening. I came home and went to Kroger and secured all of the ingredients to make my now famous Kale and Cannellini bean soup. Cooking is a great thing to do. So relaxing and enjoyable. Very satisfying. This is the fourth or fifth time I’ve made this soup now, a recipe I use that’s written on the side of the box of vegetable broth. I can tell you exactly what’s in it, if you would like to know: kale (it calls for regular kale but I’ve been using red kale because that’s what I first made it with), garlic, onion, carrot, cannellini beans, tomato paste, veggie broth, thyme sprigs and bay leaves… and there you have it. Not hard at all. You get to do a lot of chopping, and there are multiple stages of chopping things up and adding them to the pot. Oops, I forgot oil. Very important. Today I actually burnt the oil, which has never happened, because I didn’t put that much in (olive oil), and I decided to use the full burner, instead of only the smaller ring inside of the big ring on the stovetop (you know what I’m talking about right), and so I used the same heat settings as I’ve done before, but because of that the pot was heated much more, so the cooking was done faster, and some of the oil got burnt, which didn’t matter at all or affect the flavor, but I did in the end have a mushier soup than I would have wanted. I cooked it longer too because I wanted the kale to be cooked well.

Yesterday in the mail I received an envelope from the National Resource Defense Council, that was thorough and well written, and the topic was: bees. There were many good facts in their letter, and in the envelope was a petition that they wanted me to physically sign, and then they were going to send to the headquarters of Bayer, the plan being to bombard them with petitions from citizens who wished that they would stop selling a product that is directly responsible for the massive bee dieoffs. I thought it was a good plan, and I signed the letter, put it in the envelope and stamped it, and filled out the form to donate $25 dollars to their cause. They are a multimillion dollar organization and are currently battling the EPA to prevent neonics from being sold on the market in the US. Europe has already banned many of the pesticides we still use here. The EPA recently approved the pesticide sulfoxaflor for longterm use even though the EPA itself, “according to the EPA’s own analysis, declared it ‘highly toxic to bees at all life stages.'” Great. Let’s keep using that then.

“45 percent of the nation’s honeybee colonies collapsed over the past year – one of the largest losses ever recorded.”

“We depend on bees to pollinate 70 out of 100 major crops – from apples and blueberries to watermelon and zucchini.”

And of course, bees are cute and fun.

Think about that.

We had Rachel Carson blowing the whistle and raising the alarm for the birds, because of DDT. Well, we are going through it again now, and this time it’s the bees and the monarchs. Although basically all insect populations are falling now, and there is a major insect apocalypse happening, and this is being followed by insectivore bird population collapses. Not good.

There is one other thing I can write about for you here, which is that recently, for the first time ever, I was a waiter. I did some waitering, including using the famous waiter platter, and bringing people food and drinks, and by the end of the night, I was even taking orders. It’s an interesting way to go about learning and getting involved in a business, because it was my second night of being there, at this fancy cocktail bar that is next to the Starbucks I work at, and that’s how I got in, my friend is the General Manager of the bar as of recently, and he asked me to come by and check it out and see if I wanted to help out. And by the end of the second night, I was a full blown cocktail waiter. I ended up having my own tables because the girl who was working the floor left, at 10, and after 10 the floor closes and everyone has to go up to the bar to get their drinks, but people still want to hang out in the comfy chairs and tables around the room, and so I was still going around cleaning up and the next thing you know, the two gals in the round comfy chairs were asking me if I could get them another round of espresso martinis, and I opened up a new tab with them, and then a group of girls came in and I sat them and waited on them, and so those were my first and still only two tabs ever, because I haven’t done this yet again. The best part of this was that when I had come over to the group of four girls that I had seated, and was prepared to take their order, bracing myself for whatever things they would say that I would have no clue about, although I had already learned quickly about many of the most popular drinks, and I could remember what people told me, such as a “vodka still water lemon and lime” and a “gimlet.. something on the rocks” (now I’ve forgotten it), but still had almost no experience using the little magical machine that we use to take orders, and so I squatted down next to the first girl ready to take her order, and she said, “Oh my god, is that Toast? I love Toast!!!” (Toast being the name of the application/device that we use to take the orders.) And I said, “You know about Toast?” And she said, “Of course!” And I said, “Okay, then you tell me what to do. This is my first day and I have no idea what I’m doing.” And lo and behold, one of the other gals sitting there also knew about Toast, her name was DJ, and between them they taught me everything I now know about Toast, and they basically did their own orders, but helped me through it, and it was absolutely amazing, that my first table ever had two professional Toast users at it, who could train me. Dessiree was the first girl, who said that she loved Toast, and was talking out loud about how to ring up her order, and I was like, “Yes, yes this is what they were saying, yes that sounds right.” Connecting the dots. And then DJ blew my mind when at the end of the night, and they were closing out, and I was like, okay I have to take your card over to machine back by the bar, because that’s what I was told to do and had seen done, and DJ says, “No you don’t.” And she showed me how to pay, right there at the table, with this magical Toast device. And I was like, uhm, this is incredible, I had no idea, and she said, “Who trained you????” To which I replied, “Old people.” Which is the truth. I was trained by old people who didn’t know about Toast. Victoria is not that old. She probably knew about Toast payment. When I had gone back over to the bar, I saw Chris (the GM) and I said, “Did you know that you can pay with this thing?” (holding up the device). And he said, “No.” And I said, “We need to talk.”

The difference between having to take their card and go across the room over to the machine, or take all of the cards of everyone who is paying and go all the way over to the main machine, and then have each one pay, and then bring them the receipt, and then go get the receipt, vs. just being able to collect payments right there at the table, is crazy. HUGE difference.

I also tried Dom Perignon on this night. Ian, one of the two working bartenders, caught me in a moment and said, “Are you busy right now?” Of course I replied, “Never too busy for you, Ian.” He’s a fun and charming guy. A lovable individual. From all that I have seen in two days of him, but he has a good reputation with Chris the GM, which matters enormously, so we can be confident in saying these good words about him. And this small story will highlight his character, because he brought me into the reserve party room to the side of the main room, used for large gatherings, and there was a glass of Dom Perignon sitting on the table, and he said, “I wanted you to try this. This is some expensive bubbly right here.” He saved some Dom Perignon for me. It had come from the CEO’s birthday party, which was happening that night, and was very entertaining, moreso for me because I was new and had nothing to be held accountable for, and so was just able to spectate and be entertained, although by the end of the night, that was already over, because I started to understand what to do, and as soon as you understand what you have to do, at least with me, that means you have to start doing it, and you are not a spectator anymore. You are part of the action. The CEO in question is the owner of DZL, the company that I work for, that owns the building that I work in, Cummins Station, and the Starbucks that I work at, and the bar that I was then working at, this night, Pullman Standard. But Ian had said something about how this glass of champagne costs more than either of us make in a night, or more than half our night’s wages or something, so it must have been expensive. And I drank that Dom Perignon, in one gulp, maybe two gulps, and that was all I had to drink that night, and it was delicious. It must have been the best champagne I’ve ever had, because it was expensive, and I haven’t had many champagnes, but at least I could tell that it was a really good champagne, because it had a lot going on with it, and a lot of complexity, which is exactly what you want, right? It was sweet at first, and bubbly, but not too sweet, and then very quickly you could taste flavor, and then it ended by being dry, and so it did not leave a sweet or sticky taste in your mouth. Pretty good. And Ian really did that for me, I hardly know the guy, this having been only my second night there. That was cool of him.

The real sitcom moment that had happened on this night, of the CEO’s big birthday bash, was that there was some uncertainty over what to do with this magnificent three-tiered birthday cake that was for Zach (the CEO) and his party’s enjoyment, and it had thrown a significant wrench into the works of the Pullman Standard team. Chris in particular was desperately wanting to talk to Zach’s wife, about how to do the cake, and I think he wanted to talk about when they were supposed to bring the cake out, and how to present it, and whatever else, and I know this was or would have seemed to be a big deal, because I have learned that Zach is quite particular, and so he probably had a particular way that he wanted this to be done, as he probably does with all things. I don’t know him very well but I can already see this about him, as he is probably very smart and smart people are often very particular about things. He seems to be quite particular about many things, so I’m sure they were thinking, how does he want this cake business done? But nobody knew who Zach’s wife was, and I thought, I can just go over there and find out, discreetly of course, just ask a member of the party if they could point Zach’s wife out for me, but when I made my move to go over to this birthday party, they were then in the middle of having a birthday toast, and so that wasn’t going to happen. They figured it out in the end and I think first ended up bringing over the cake in its entirety, to be viewed and perhaps candles to be blown, and then brought it to the back and cut it up and brought out the pieces. I was just getting such a kick out of this cake business, that it was so much drama for such a small thing, but yet, that’s how it goes. It seems small, but it just depends on whose perspective you’re looking at it from. Where is Zach’s wife, we have to ask her about the cake!!! The cake, what do we do with the cake???? We forgot about the cake!!!! You can see why that’s funny. At the CEO’s big birthday bash. And because I had no responsibility for doing anything with this cake, and had no expectation to have any answers, I could just look on in amusement, and shared no burden in the stress.

Well, I think we have achieved some good writing here. Now I will go try and play Metallica songs.