Friday, January 20, 2006

The Road to Carnegie Hall (a.k.a. Practice, Practice, Practice)

I found out yesterday what I'm getting paid ($8.50/hour, going up to $9 in March), plus got a ton of really positive feedback from the boss, who thinks I'm really, really good. I'll just tell you one thing (because I've got a LITTLE modesty, hidden somewhere): he said it was clear to him that I had the skills to do this well. I pointed out that it had only been a couple of weeks, but he said that when someone's got it, they got it--and when they don't, you can tell, too. And that the three previous people he's had there from my school weren't nearly as good as I am. Plus I got an actual paycheck today, so that's cool, too.

After work yesterday, out of which I got at about 2:15, I actually played handball, which completely rocked, and then S and I headed to a bar, where B soon met us, followed not long after that by another friend of S's (C was with his mom, who had her pacemaker battery replaced on Wednesday and is apparently doing fine). We hung out for a little while, and S and his friend left, and B and I continued to sit there. Until about 1:30 am. Even though I had to get up at 5 for work. By the time he got me home and I got upstairs and got to sleep, it was after 2:30, and the alarm (which I reset for a few extra minutes of sleep) went off at 5:20. Luckily, I have many long years of practice at this functioning-on-little-sleep thing. I skipped breakfast (though I still made the thermos of tea [it's not really a Thermos, because it's made of stainless steel rather than glass, but I don't know what you call thermoses that aren't Thermoses]), I jumped in the shower first thing, I didn't bother with the contact lenses today, and I quasi-napped on the train to work. At work, I moved with deliberation, despite the fact we made twice as many croissants today as on other days (I think Johnnie had had a few last night, too, so we were both, as they say, crudo, which apparently means "raw," but is also slang for "hung over." I wasn't hung over so much as exhausted, but I just plugged away and got through it--something else I've learned from years of practice.

Tonight C and I went to a local Asian joint--the place we had our first date, as a matter of fact, lo those many years ago. We've become fond of a particular waiter; he's very good, and a sweetheart, and we overtip wildly, and he always comps us a couple of desserts. When we went in after Christmas, we left a card for him, with $20 in it--nothing extravagant, obviously, but we like him. Tonight, he brings me a bottle of wine (which, of course, I did not finish), and we got three desserts--and then he came up to us afterwards and said the whole meal was comped. He said his manager is a nice guy, etc. (when I inisisted he take $20, which he actually tried to refuse), i.e., he went to his manager and asked to do this for us. I told him it was wonderful and we really appreciated it and he can't do it again. But it sure was sweet.

And now, campers, I'm extremely tired, as you might imagine. You can practice getting by on three hours of sleep all you want, but eventually, people, you still need to sleep.

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