And the Day Continues.....

Last Edit June 25, 1999

6/14/99

You can't rest enough. Goes right up there with you can't be thin enough. Or rich enough. And I am old enough to understand these things now.
You have to get up and go to......Red Lobster!
Crabby Monday!
Again!
Of course.
I have a momentary heart attack - I had a big wad of hand-written material - the opening chapters of "Three of a Kind", my new Regency novel. I couldn't find them. Lot of work to lose!
I discover this AFTER we get to Red Lobster.
Must be in my other bag. (It was.) The writer was nervous. The writer wants out.
OK. OK.
I'll calm down.
We are breaking in a new server.
Two servers actually fought over us. Amazing.
My stomach is so bad (gained 5 lbs - all that stress - no-no) I took a Xanax (muscle relaxant that is supposed to calm down my stomach). One-half of one. So I can't drink and decided against coffee.
I will have tea. Black tea. Calms me for some unknown reason.
There are seven of us. And, since this is finals week, the adrenaline is high.
My son is really "up". Wired. This is when we figure out if he makes it out of high-school in June or August.
He was a sophomore last year and a senior this year so it is iffy.
As wired as we are, we have taken to leaving notes on dishes for the new server.
Too much ice in the coke pitcher. Seven cubes and the rest soda are the request.
I am out of tea so we wave the pot. Never, ever let the woman with the credit card run out of tea or coffee or whatever. Be nice to me.
The others pay me in cash - which my son acquires one 20 at a time. I tip. I tip well. They know this. Those who have waited on us before. I figure they put up with a lot.
The manager rescues us. We get tea, fresh soda and three platters of crab. It is being devoured at various rates.
I am feeling the Xanax and am top-heavy. My head wants to be on the table. And heads there at will. It is very difficult to sit upright.
Along about now at home I would be face down on the sofa.
But the others.
Oh the others....
Children's menus are in their hands! (Who gave these guys crayons! But at least they didn't eat them!)
They construct paper airplanes from the colored menus.
They are aiming for management.
They get one.
They also get another person - busboy? Server? Who knows.
I get a kitty-pak. Crab in a film case.
I had a manager's special - just to be different - swordfish. Excellent.
The three platters are now about gone. Already.
They pass buckets to speed up table-cleanup. We teach the server that she just has to stand there - we are faster at clearing the table. In the past, we have been know to take over an empty table and put out litter there. On platters, of course. Also, no bread dishes, no rolls, no stray dishes at all. Lots of lemon. Lots of butter. Lots of crab. A science. An art form.
Andrew, the one we hit by accident, makes a bigger plane out of newspaper. Seems he is off-duty. Tosses it at us.
We re-target the manager.
She ducked.
I have a roll - an exception to my diet - to calm down the stomach. Forget Medifast tonight. It's how I gain weight.
The Xanax has me light-headed but the stomach is getting quieter.
Great.
Stay on Xanax all week. (I am supposed to. But I would get nothing done!)
Need rest.
Less stress. I will have a meeting later this week that should move in that direction (at work). And I should know about high school. Between those two, I haven't had a moment to myself. To fuss about my own things. I did FAX my reservation for a table at the book fair in Toronto - for the www.FABIOIFC.com web site and my stories. My story promotion lets me write-off the table. I am about to create a book proposal on the humorous ones. I have three flavors. Chasing Fabio (of course). Working Mother's Morning (about the boys). And general essays on life. Journal entries like this are homeless.
The table crew (mine) is fast and noisy.
I am now totally zonked.
I get more hot tea. Two pots at a time. Told you. They know not to let me run out. Well, they did. But then we waved two pots in the air.
My state causes various hilarity. I wish my son could drive.
The tea is a diuretic. It is also warm. Soothes the stressed muscles. And I am dehydrated.
More platters arrive.
We challenge a table to beat us. They won't be able to. They are having beer. Takes up too much room. Four guys and their beer. We have "the stomachs". Mike, Dan and my son can line up and look like triplets. At least at the waist.
I had the swordfish and it was excellent. With salad and broccoli. See? I was good. Fairly. Protein and veggies.
Express crab. Two more platters down.
As fast as they started, Mike and my son are the last men standing.
They are clearing the platters.
Cats have their film cases filled.
The managers are still ducking.
We remind Amanda that we are here (she was swamped).
We are notorious.
But we are destitute.
We have not sung.
We get even.
The table aura causes the busboy to break dishes behind us.
Aha. Our own cacophony of sound.
Not good enough. We scan.
At last. We locate a birthday. There is always one.
We get to sing. The backup chorus has arrived. Actually run across the restaurant to do this.
OK.
Now we are happy.
One more tray.
Two eaters left.
They are slowing down.
Shaking things down for desert.
I am on my 4th or 5th pot of back tea. I am in no condition to count.
They get desert.
My son forgoes chocolate.
He orders ice-cream and caramel.
Another trial for me.
I love caramel
I was raised with a sweet tooth. Pralines. Fudge. Gak!
The servers are now ducking.
Of course my son has to duck when they come by with the trays because he is so tall. And for some reason he ended up in the server's path.
I am trying to keep my eyes open. The beer guys are losing.
We give them a hard time.
Friendly testosterone rivalry.
Mikey missed his mouth.
A sure sign he has had enough.
We have the caramel. One apple overboard. One Sugar and Spice. And two of them split a strawberry mess.
My son won't share!
So I will have to share someone else's.
Brat! I complain to the manager that my kid is being selfish. She is visiting the table. She scolds him.
Of course, the evening can't be complete without someone mentioning the goose.
These guys tell me that they went to Great America to watch the pendulum ride.
And this ride swings back and forth. A giant sky swing.
All of a sudden - here comes a ----- Duck!
Actually, a mallard.
Geese have no corner on this behavior.
The Mallard was flapping merrily along until it realized that it was too close to the oncoming swing.
Then it really started flapping its wings REALLY fast. And got the blazes out of there!
Does that mean ducks are smarter?
I get presented with --- 1/8 of a desert on its very own plate. Specified.
Served to me.
Special.
I licked the whipped cream cap - the cream was on the side. A whole Tablespoon.
Of course this is when Cindy took pictures. With my tongue out.
I haven't seen all these photos.
I am dying to.
She must have a hellava collection.
We discuss the need for JPEG. Instant publication. ASP is supposed to get us there. I just haven't decided to but the special scanner. One more SCSI device. Of course, I can hook these things up to different computers. No practical limit to my SCSI chain!
I tell them I have Snappy - a device that snaps onto a PC (well - I have one at work) and lets me snapshot video tape. I just got it.
QVC!
Ho Ho Ho.
Can we guess where that is going????
I've decided that I need a baby NT at home.
Of course, I will have to drape the Macs so they can't see it.
They would get upset.
Maybe I'll get one to visit.
I'm supposed to get a notebook and docking station at work. That could work out.
The bill arrives.
Hey. We did 75 leg clusters!!!!
Broke the Red Lobster Record!!!!!!
Told you they were being fast tonight.
Dan offers to drive me but I have recovered enough - I needed sugar. The small amount of desert was enough.
I drive home and crash.
I have to rest up for next week.