Most of this weekend was Katie time. I already posted that we went to the Asian Festival in Columbus. We spent a bunch of time here afterwards, and then again this morning around … I’ll say nine-ish. If we did anything this morning, I can’t really remember it. I know that at some point we fell asleep on my bed, and I had to leave for a graduation party at twelve thirty. Mom woke us up at twelve thirty, my leg was hanging off the bed, and my knee hurt pretty bad for awhile. I hated to be late, but eh, the nap did me some good. On the way to Frazeysburg, I stopped to take some pictures of some turkey buzzards, that turned out so-so at best. I had to hustle, because I had a interview at Red Lobster to get to.
Two things of mention from the graduation party (two of my cousin’s): the first being that on the wall in the basement of a church that this thing was in, there was a cork board that held some pictures drawn by Sunday school kids, looked like somewhere between seven and ten year olds. The drawings had a title over them that said “The Fruit of the Spirit…” and the drawings under the banner were done on a piece of paper that had one of the Fruits of the Spirits listed in print, and then the crayon representation of what that child believed that fruit to be. Three of them were “Joy” and all of them had a rainbow, looks like we’ve got one creative mind and two kids who will actually make it as an artist… By stealing, that is. Here is the one that I loved. So much that I had to take a picture, and I’d have posted with this, but I didn’t feel like uploading it. The fruit was “Peace”. The drawing? In black crayon, simply put, two words: “Home Alone”.
That’s a mental image that my mind’s eye runs wild with. An eight year old that knows peace only by being alone in the place in the world that he or she feels safe? Peace doesn’t include that kid’s parents or brothers or sisters? Wow…
The other thing was Carson. My sister’s husband. On my way out from the party, Courtney, Carson, Ray, and La, were on the way in. I saw Carson from a way off and shouted “Hey, (edit…), whazup?” Carson, by the way, is Caucasian. Carson replied with that kind of “Hey, Steve,” like, “I’m pretty glad I only see him every now and then,” Yep, I’m that kind of in-law.
So, the Red Lobster interview? It went super good. I didn’t dress up, wore jeans and a black golf shirt. Katie put me in the shirt sometime earlier in the day and the jeans I think I’d been wearing for two days. I think Katie likes to dress me. Fine with me, I like everything in my closet and with little exception I think it all goes with everything else, so I don’t really mind what she picks out. I don’t care, and she enjoys caring, so it works out for everyone. I didn’t dress up, I walked in like I owned the place and talked like I already had the job, which I think I did. While filling out my resume I was lead to believe there was a “test” involved prior to hiring. Turns out my application passed the test for me. The guy doing the interview, I think, is Red Lobster’s equivalent of Ryan. His name is Dustin and he seems to be easier to entertain than Ryan, which is slightly disappointing… I can’t tell you why. I asked for the same amount of money that I make at Maria’s. I discerned that it’s more than starting pay at Red Lobster for most people. Dustin seemed impressed and asked the general manager to give me the full amount. He said I was “[requested amount of money] material”. He said he thought I was “talent”. I get seventy five cents less, but I’ll get the full amount once I progress through the stations. Fine, it’s a great idea. Gives me incentive. Also, I managed to feel out, that once I make the full amount that I will be making more money than the guy who’s job I want, which is expo. That’s where you get the most hours in Red Lobster’s kitchen.
This job, initially, means less hours and less pay. That means I have to tighten my belt as far as spending goes. It also means more free time. I want to learn PHP and MySQL. This whole site will get retooled, and now I’ve got the time to do it. Tomorrow I put in my two weeks. I’m going to tell Marco that I’ll be available to help fill in some busy spots at Maria’s, but I don’t think he’ll take me up on it. The restaurant has a long standing policy against employees working at other restaurants, but this time I think he’ll make a bit of an exception. The kitchen is already running a skeleton crew, since no one new was hired to take Alissa’s place after she left, like three months ago. If he will, good. If he won’t, I understand, I’m doing this to help Maria’s, not me.
Katie was waiting in the parking lot for me after the interview. I thought that three hours earlier she had left for Cincinnati. She asked me if her waiting there was “creepy”. I said no, but honestly I don’t know. So few perceptions about what is “normal” and what is “strange”, so much gray area for me. So maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.
We went back to her dad’s. I spent most of the time sinking into the couch in the living room. The couch is probably older than me and in that amount of time it’s become one of those couches that have evolved a diet and that diet requires the flesh of humans. Unless you fall asleep on one of those couches, your safe.
Jason had one of those couches back in the day. I remember sleeping on it lots of times and waking up in the morning mostly in it. Aside from a approximate total of four hundred dollars worth of change, the couch never got me.
Than Katie bought me a milkshake from Steak’N’Shake and dropped me off at my truck at Red Lobster. I went to Jason’s.
Jason and me went to see The Longest Yard (I’m giving it a 6 out of 10, slightly above average. One bonus point for a slight twist on the stagnant football genre) and then to Taco Bell. Back at his place, I watched Hell’s Kitchen on whatever network it’s on, and I think I like it. I usually don’t dig TV shows, but I liked it. Reality TV shows that I like I usually like because I watch it and continually think of how I could be doing so much better than this guy or that girl. Chances are, I wouldn’t should I be there, but I’ll pretend anyway.
One of these days I’m going to make it on the Amazing Race with Ryan. We’ll show them all up. I’ll eat darn near anything and Ryan is good at… hrm, well I don’t know what goes on on that show, since I’ve never seen it, but Ryan tells me they eat crazy stuff on the show, and I know I could do that. Outside of the bizarre food, I don’t know what other skills either me or Ryan bring to the table. I’ll make it to the reality TV show one of these lives.
Jason’s smoking sort of bothered me today. Previously it was ok, but I think I’m going to have to tell him not to smoke in the truck. The truck smells like cigarettes and it’s in close quarters to Mr. Dinge-y Yet Still Slightly Pink Lungs. When leaving, I puked up a bit of Taco Bell into his neighbor’s lawn, so the smell of that and the smell of menthol cigarettes sort of was a weird funk. Any longtime reader knows that I puke at strange times. I don’t know why. Maybe I should look into it, but I don’t really care.
Tomorrow, double shift and two weeks notice.