Dressing the Salt and Pepper

Last Edit May 12, 1999

A title which amuses Amanda. Or confuses her.
Yep.
We are back at Red Lobster.
Dressing the salt and pepper shakers in the bands from the silverware.
We are five today and they put us in the corner.
In the dark.
Hide us.
My son, learning from the adults, has propositioned the cute new greeter at the sign-in desk. He's still trolling for a prom date.
Cindi has shot enough film of her to scare her to death, to the amusement of fellow workers who are used to us.
Trauma.
Of course we threaten to put this on the web.
This threat is used as a club.
No way am I scanning all that.
Some. Not all.
So we are put in the corner in an attempt to contain us.
This does not deter them - these people I dine with. They have brought hockey pucks (film cap lids) and shoot them around the table until they are lost.
My son now propositions Amanda while he borrows my tiny flashlight to go crawling around on the floor looking for hockey pucks.
Her response is to serve the side dish salad not unlike a Frisbee thrower.
Only one of us is odd (besides me) - has rice instead of potato. I break my routine and have a double order of Salmon. Double order gets me to 8oz. (Instead of salmon and shrimp or shrimp and Mahi-Mahi).
Amanda is now confused - she had us memorized.
Nope.
We be different today.
I just saw 33% of the new Start Wars flick - awesome - the effects alone make it worth the ticket. But that was always true. The plots were always thin. Anorexic.
Full orchestra and chorus - an overture - new word for the vocabulary lists. That sound track will be priceless. Think of all the kids who will hear classical symphonic music.
That's as good as Apple selling iMacs to young girls. Kudos!
When to see the movie is the next obstacle - he proms the 15th, and parties in LA the 20th-21st. Maybe a Wednesday a week or so after opening.
No rush. We will own this. DVD, tape, whatever.
We have crab.
My son is crabby tonight.
Senior pressure.
He's actually annoyed because I haven't told him which college he will go to yet!
I keep missing something.
Isn't this HIS job?
Actually, he will go to Ohlone or Cal State Hayward and transfer to San Diego - we have a sitting tenant and I am letting them sit tight while they figure out where to go. The husband, a doctor, just finished Law school - or the other way around. I forget.
My son wants to be out of the house.
He wants a woman and a cave is what this is. Just don't tell him that!
He wants out of the house, out of school, wants to drive. He's done 10 feet in the van so far.
He wants to live in my house in San Diego, in my master bedroom and use my Jacuzzi tub.
He wants my G3 and wants the van signed over.
Of course he also wants me to buy a new truck - the TUNDRA - bigger than the Tacoma - so he can manage to have that. Claims he won't fit in the van.
I want a Toyota RAV4 at the moment. Last week it was a white convertible.
I am in that fickle stage.
Not quite ready to buy yet phase.
Waiting for him to leave home.
No French fries in the new car.
I don't think I can stand the thought.
He can't stand the thought of my buying a "little car".
Still wants a Hummer.
We are trying to get a picture of my son - who promptly hides behind his hands. Eats with them up. Flings crab shell at me.
Oh good.
More film wasted.
We tell Amanda in passing to whack him one.
So she does!
We have scanned the room for a date for him. Ran out of waitresses.
Time to start on a freshman.
I am coffee-logged. Too much decaf. Time I started drinking water.
We discuss my son's need for sleep. He is so busy helping others he is struggling with a heavy load and no sleep. (or 2 hours a night) (gets pissed when he falls asleep and hasn't finished homework)
Ugh!
I remember those days.
I was so ill and stressed in college (a commuter student with a part time job and a scholarship which required I keep a 3.0 average) that I would run 7 days without sleep.
My aunt Emma would give me a sleeping pill while I was sitting on the bed - it worked that fast. Make me sleep 14 hours.
Made it through college. (Less pressure and a doctor who recognized hyperactive thyroid disease would have been better.)
I was over-revved.
My son is over-stressed.
And obnoxious.
Like most 17 year olds.
Now he wants to take 3 days off school to catch-up.
Why not?
Just do those papers.
We did 34 clusters.
Sang happy birthday twice to total strangers.
Tame evening.