Bill fed the waitresses on schedule. Jo Ann ate first and then Rosie and Edelgarde. They all ate fish with double orders of vegetables, not the special because that was sold out. He made it nice for them by making it personal. He sautéed some of the leftover mushrooms in butter with white wine and lemon juice and then added capers.
The waitresses were his allies. He had won them over in two nights, not by having done anything special but simply by being a good cook and making it so the food that went out to the customers was primo. Pretty, steaming hot and good: that was the key. When push came to shove, the first two of the three were the key ones. They would almost always get you by. Pretty good would do, but not if it wasn’t steamy hot and pretty.
As a special added touch he garnished it with a sprig of parsley. Each of the girls told him yummy when they’d picked up their food and they told him super yummy after they’d eaten.
Caesar was the only unhappy person. He was losing his girls. He knew this and he could feel it. He sensed that Rosie and Edelgarde were sweet on Bill, but even Jo Ann was changing allegiance. Part of it was Bill’s emerging status as first cook of the main kitchen and his having final say over the food in The Falstaff Room. Part of it was that Bill was just plain nice. The final part was that she hated some of the things Caesar did, first and foremost the uniform inspection every day during which time Caesar’s hands were on her, on them all. She hated that, they all hated it.
Jimmy G cut out again at 11:00. He stayed gone while Bill did the last orders and until that last set of tables was served. Once again Bill did not mind even though he had to go to the bathroom and he wanted to get a little walk and take a rest. He told Edelgarde that if she still wanted him to hold her skirt for her, she could meet him at the same bathroom he and Rosie had used soon as Jimmy G came back. She said she just couldn’t wait. He asked her to get him an espresso.
Edelgarde came back a few minutes later. She had a double espresso for Bill set in a coffee mug. They didn’t use mugs in The Falstaff Room. They only used fine china. But room service used mugs and Kalista kept a stash of them by her all the time just for times like this.
“Kalista told me to take good care of you,” Edelgarde said when she delivered the espresso. She winked as she said it and did a little wiggle. “I’m planning to,” she said with a smile.
Bill couldn’t help himself. He felt the little itch start to stir and he took a good look at her as he sipped the coffee. He would have said something, but Caesar came by. He’d come to order his own dinner but he said something first about the girls eating the filet of sole.
Bill didn’t respond to Caesar, not directly. Caesar had asked for a steak and Bill asked how he wanted it cooked. He asked it as he was turning his back to fetch it and get it done for him quickly, not because he was interested in pleasing Caesar but because he wanted to meet Edelgarde. He already knew how Caesar liked his steak cooked. He was feeling curious now to see what Edelgarde tasted like, how she felt. They hadn’t really kissed yet, never really touched, and he was curious.
Of course, as the saying went, curiosity killed the cat.
By Peter Weiss
Unfortunately we are limited by our own thinking. Me too! Of course, me too! When I was teaching, especially when I was teaching argumentation, either forensics or composition, I always told my students not believe what I said, to check things out for themselves. Furthermore, if I offered a personal opinion I offered the opposing opinion and reasoning as well. I think that is fairness if one is in a position of power, that being not imposing one’s personal opinions on others.
So there are many ways my thinking/our thinking is limited. We are automatically limited by having our parents’ thinking superimposed upon us. Then we are limited by our environment, our culture, our heritage, and even by our socioeconomic status. Very often our socioeconomic status determines how and where we are educated and that can either expand and extend our thinking or grossly (and unfairly) limit it.
Another element that plays into our thinking is our life experiences. While all of this is quite complex, being appropriately nurtured at birth, especially in those critical first three months, is a major factor. Having two parents is a factor. Life events, losing a parent, other trauma, physical and/or mental abuse are all factors that determine how and what we think. In some people, such things severely limit thinking. In others, they move through it all and end up with expanded thinking.
Who knows? Who can say? We are all different although of course as human animals we are all the same. And on top of all that is the physiology of how we’re born, if our brains are normal, whether or not our parents used substances while we were in the womb, etc.
And so it goes.
Well, I’m not a sociologist or medical doctor or psychologist. I’m and EdD and I was a teacher for more than 30 years. I also have an MA in English and have been writing for more than 50 years, since I was 15. I’ve had my own life experiences and I was born the way I was born. For those of you who have read my work and/or know me, you know I was an incubator baby and I was born with a lazy eye. I had three eye operations when I was three (I think it was actually when I was four, but I’m fond of saying it as three at three, so…) And here I am at nearly 71.
So the point of all of this is, plain and simple, I think I know when people are messing with my head and I’m here to tell you that our government, particularly the Despicable Democrats are messing with our heads. As the newly disclosed indisputable facts show, Schiff, Comey, Clapper, Brenan, Susan Rice and others said one thing under oath and in secret and the opposite out in public.
Or, they were messing with our heads, plain and simple.
We now know Obama lied. Biden lied. We now know the FBI lied to the FISA court and about Flynn as well as other things.
Or, they were messing with our heads.
It goes on and on and on, and it’s never been worse.
Pravda USA, the mainstream media lapdogs of the Despicable Dems, have been lying to us for years, like forever actually. They hide behind the First Amendment and claim they are unbiased. That is their first lie.
Pravda USA, the Despicable Dem mainstream media lapdogs that are definitely lying to us are worse now than ever because they are brazen about it and don’t even attempt to hide it. It’s worse than ever now because they are owned by a few multi-billionaires all of whom have their own personal agendas from making millions of dollars in China to seeing that their sweetheart deals with our government aren’t upended by an independent president like Trump.
It’s all diabolical. They are messing with our brains and they want our thinking limited and controlled.
But hey! Don’t believe me. Don’t believe them. Check things out for yourselves. Facts are facts. Opinions are opinions. All or nothing is almost always a fallacious argument.
By Peter Weiss
We’ll keep this one short too. For all you Democrat-dogma supporters, nah, nah, nah, boo boo on you. Only one thing left to say besides imploring you to think for yourselves independently and that is: be careful — you may just get what you ask for.
You/we all have choices. You can believe what Pravda USA mainstream media Democrat lapdogs want you to believe, or you can look at things independently for yourself. You can question, or you can accept. You can act like an ostrich and bury your heads in the sand or…
Once again, and straight out for the record…
In 1970 at the Ohio State University demonstration in which six hundred people were arrested, I was the first one. Six unidentified FBI agents were beating on a demonstrator, a small kid not more than 135 pounds soaking wet. I went to help him, they knocked me out, I came to in a paddy wagon. An undercover policeman led us through a conversation that was recorded and showed up verbatim at my trial.
Here was the offer: plead guilty to misdemeanor assault and battery on a police officer, resisting arrest and disorderly conduct and be allowed to graduate (not be expelled from the University), get sixty days in the workhouse and a two hundred fifty dollar fine. The trial would be held off until I finished up my last trimester and graduated.
Or:
Don’t plead guilty. Be re–arrested for a felony, rioting one. Go to trial almost immediately and be facing a year in the state penitentiary. Bail would go up so high I couldn’t post it and I’d be expelled, hence not graduate, upon being found guilty.
My lawyer refused to let me do anything other than take the plea deal. He said they would surely find me guilty in the political climate there at that time and that I wouldn’t last a week in the penn. What he actually said was a young boy like me, they’d kill me (literally) in the first week.
My lawyer also said that if I refused to take the deal he’d quit my case and he’d make sure that any other attorney I got made me take the deal.
So I lied. I didn’t lie about being innocent. I lied about being guilty. I said I did something I surely didn’t do.
Think independently. Look what they did to Flynn. Check out who did it, who lied about what they did and why they did both.
They are guilty. Not Flynn.
Flynn was the key to… We all know what the Democrat-dogma-people can’t/won’t say.
Two things to remember: be an independent thinker, and, you lefties, be careful because you may just get what you want and discover it’s not at all what you think it is or you thought it would be.
By Peter Weiss
For the most part they were done by 10:30. It started getting slower by 10:00. Bill was happy with how it went. They sold out all the filet of sole special fairly quickly and Bill made a mental note to tell Jimmy Banquet Chef they could have used another pan. They also sold mostly good food, prime rib, quality steaks and lobster tails.
Jimmy G stayed gone early-on long enough for Bill to do most of the early orders by himself. Jo Ann, who was the one who relayed most information about things told Bill that this was nothing unusual, that Jimmy G was notorious for such behavior. In fact, she said, it was one of the reasons the cook Bill replaced finally called it quits.
Truth was Bill was happy working alone. Unless there was such a huge rush that it was impossible to do so, Bill preferred to handle everything. Not only did he prefer it, but he was good at it. He worked steadily, methodically and purposefully.
Most of the tables were Jo Ann’s. She was early girl and this night, unlike most nights last week, she would be able to go early too. As it got busier, Rosie and Edelgarde stepped in to assist. It wasn’t long before Rosie was standing before Bill on her side of the open service window. Bill had his back to her mostly. He was turning and adjusting things on the Garland. Done with that, he opened the Dutch oven and peeked inside at the two sets of lobster tails and two orders of salmon.
Normally, Jimmy G would be working the stove. For these orders nothing from the sauté was needed but Bill did have to heat up vegetables. He did this for all the orders together, spooning vegetables into melted butter inside a sauté pan large enough to hold what he needed. It only took a moment to get it all set. Bill tossed salt and pepper into the vegetables and worked the frying pan. He left it a moment and slid down further to the fryers where he dropped a basket of French fries. That done, on his way back to the broiler he worked the frying pan one last time and moved it off the heat.
Rosie stood watching. What was going on in the kitchen was nothing new to her. She’d seen it all before. Still, she couldn’t help but asking Bill if he was okay.
“I got this,” he said. “Easy peasy.”
“Well, you make it look easy,” Rosie said.
“This is nothing,” Bill said. As he said this, he flipped some of the items on the broiler. Some he flipped and moved toward the front. That done, he opened the Dutch oven again and used his tongs to pull down the two orders of lobster tails that were together on one metal plate and the two orders of salmon that were together on another metal plate.
Now he made one last trip down to the fryer. He shook the sauté pan with the vegetables on the way. The fries were close but not quite done so he left them cooking, shook the vegetables on his way back to the Garland.
He quickly plated the first order, a three top, the two salmon and one of the steaks he’d moved to the front. He used his tongs to do this, the tips to slide the salmon to the plates then grip and tip the hot plate to cover the fish in buttery juice. The steak was an easy grab and set-down. He quickly slid to the stove. With his left hand he took up the frying pan of vegetables. With his right hand he reached and lifted up the basket of fries. He set the basket on its shelf to drip out.
A moment later the plates were complete, garnished and set up under the warmer lights.
“Pretty, right?” He said. But he didn’t wait for an answer. He was already on plating the next table.
By Peter Weiss
“I’m mad at you,” Edelgarde said. She stood by the entrance to the kitchen hands on her hips. Bill noted that she didn’t look angry. He noted that despite her words she was pretty much smiling.
He stopped what he was doing, walked past Jimmy G and stood close to her. “Why’s that?”
“You know why.”
“Tell me,” he said.
“How you go with her and not invite me?” Edelgarde shifted her weight on her feet like she was doing a little shimmy.
“Let me know when you have to pee,” Bill said.
“Now,” Edelgarde said.
“I can’t leave here right now. Come back after the service.”
“You mean I have to wait that long to pee?”
Bill moved himself very close to Edelgarde, so close he could whisper in her ear, which he did. “Go pee, baby,” he said. “Come back after the service and I’ll be happy to hold your skirt even better than I did Rosie’s.”
“You promise?”
“I promise,” Bill said.
Edelgarde turned and went out the double doors. Bill walked past Jimmy G again and went back to his work.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimmy G said.
“I don’t think that for a second,” Bill said.
Bill and Jimmy G did a final check of everything for the service and made sure it was the way they wanted it. When they were done, when they were sure everything was set just so, Jimmy G said he had to go to the bathroom and cut out. As it worked out, he did not return for almost an hour.
Not long after Jimmy G was gone Edelgarde returned from the ladies room. On her way back into the dining room she stopped at the kitchen entrance and looked in on Bill. “See,” she said, “I really did have to pee.”
Because there were no orders working and because Jimmy G was gone, Bill stepped over to her. Without saying a word and without any hesitation, careful that no one else was around, he reached up under her little maid’s skirt and took a feel of her. He didn’t keep his hand there long, but he made sure to help himself to a nice, intimate feel of her. For her part, Edelgarde shifted her legs slightly to open some and make it easier for him to feel what he wanted.
“I’m holding you to what you said,” Edelgarde said.
Bill didn’t say anything. He simply smiled at her and left it at that.
Unlike some of the other nights in the last week, they didn’t have their first order until after six. Jimmy G wasn’t missed and Bill was able to sit in his spot and rest. While Jimmy G was gone, Jimmy Banquet Chef came by. Bill did not bother to get up when he showed up and walked into the kitchen to look around. The banquet chef stirred a few things in the steam table, checked out the prime rib, checked out the filet of sole special he had left, checked out some other things.
“We’ll run the roast tenderloin as tomorrow’s special,” the banquet chef said. “I felt like cooking the fish, so I made enough of that for tonight’s special.”
“No problem,” Bill said. “Doesn’t matter to me one way or another.”
“I didn’t think it would,” the banquet chef said.
Jimmy Banquet Chef stayed a little while and looked out the serving window. It was clear he was looking at the lovely waitresses of The Falstaff Room and clearly enjoying himself as he did so.
“They are pretty, aren’t they?” Bill said.
“That’s for sure,” the banquet chef said.
“Good fun watching them too.”
“Sure is.” Then, without turning and still looking at the lovely Rosie and Edelgarde, the banquet chef told Bill was cutting out early because there wasn’t much work. He told Bill that the chef would come down late make sure everything was put to bed correctly and the kitchen was closed properly.
Once again Bill said, “No problem.”
By Peter Weiss
Bill had to pee too, and at this point, given how things had worked out so far during his first week and altogether, he figured he didn’t have much to lose. So he told Rosie he would take a walk with her.
Or, when she asked him if he wanted to hold her skirt for her while she peed, he said “Sure.”
So they took a walk. They walked to one of the more distant and out of the way employee restroom locations, one Bill would not generally go to unless he was in that area to start with and had to pee. It was a bit away, but very deserted.
On the walk over Rosie took Bill’s hand and held it in hers.
“We really missed you the other night,” she said. “Edelgarde and I had to shower alone together, and while we had great fun, it wasn’t what we were hoping for.”
“I had to go home,” said Bill. “I am married you know, and I did tell you that up front.”
“Oh we understand,” Rosie said. “And it’s no big deal, not to us. We just like you and we know you like fun. Nothing more to it than that. Wanna know what we did?”
“Is it going to make me regret that I wasn’t there?”
“Can’t say. But if I were to guess, from your perspective, probably.”
“You know you never even told me what Marie did that day.”
“I know,” Rosie said. “If you hold my skirt well enough, I might just tell you on the way back.”
Rosie ducked into the ladies room first. She checked each stall and seeing that no one was in there she came out and gave Bill the all-clear. Bill, without looking at Rosie, locked the door since it had a simple lock on the door knob.
They chose the middle stall of three. Rosie went in first and Bill followed behind her.
“We don’t have much time,” said Bill.
“I really do have to pee,” Rosie said. “And then I’ll put you to work.”
Rosie was not one to not know what she wanted. Rosie was not one to not know how to get what she wanted. Soon as she peed, she did put Bill to work and she assisted him in every way possible so that he could finish his work quickly, efficiently, and successfully. It didn’t take but about two minutes, give or take.
After she’d straightened herself, without asking, she put Bill into a position where she could go to work. As it turned out, they were both good at their jobs and it didn’t take her any longer to complete her task than it had taken Bill. When all was said and done, they both washed up, unlocked the door and left out.
Leaving out was not so easy either. Rose ducked her head out and looked both ways to make sure no one was there. Coast clear, she told Bill he could come out, and they were gone.
On the walk back, Rosie told Bill that Marie had been so excited by him that she couldn’t help but go off to the ladies room and…
“That’s it?” Bill asked. “That’s the whole deal of what that was all about?”
“That’s it,” Rosie said.
“So what’s the big deal? Don’t you do that?” Bill asked.
“Sure I do,” Rosie said. “Don’t you?”
“Course I do. And I don’t have any guilt about it. I’m not ashamed to admit it either. You can watch me sometime if you want.”
“God yes,” Rosie said. “Soon, I hope.”
“Absolutely,” Bill said.
“And Edel?”
“What about her?”
“Can she be with us?”
“The more the merrier.”
“Goddamn,” Rosie said. “I knew you’d be fun.”
Just before they got to the ramp and while they were still out of sight, Rosie kissed him, a good kiss, tongue and all. Then, as they were headed up the ramp and were in sight she said, “By the way, you did a great job holding my skirt.”
By Peter Weiss
In Friday’s rant I asked the question: when did we stop thinking. It was about subscribing to a dogma hook, line and sinker. I was not proselytizing or advocating for anything. I was asking how anyone could accept a dogma straight down the line when aspects/parts of the dogma are unabashedly nonsensical and/or absolutely outrageously absurd.
Well, I continue to ask that question.
Responses to Friday’s posting were predictable. Righties, or those leaning right, applauded. They didn’t applaud the political position. They applauded the question asked and the idea that yes, we should all be independent thinkers. We should think for ourselves.
And while I think of it, and I know this is an aside, but since I was a teacher in both high school and college for more than thirty years and taught ELA and forensics, silly me, but I thought and back then we all thought we were supposed to (and we did this) teach our students how to think, not what to think.
Lefties’ responses were predictable lefty responses. Insult, name-calling, shaming and pointing to how wonderful their lefty-leaders are and how morally superior and much more wise they themselves are.
Or, lefties’ responses were so typically astoundingly unthinking as is supporting a green policy that they know will bankrupt the country and destroy its economy.
Now here’s the rub on that. Lefties will respond by saying I’m anti green energy policy and save-the-planet-stuff in all its different aspects. They’ll make the first and most fallacious forensic mistake: the all or nothing argument. Note that I haven’t stated a position. I’ve only talked to the economics of the New Green Deal.
Yes. To my Friday’s rant, lefty criticism praised Obama, attacked Trump and that was the good part of it.
Oh me, oh my, oh you, whatever shall I do?
So here we are in America 2020. According to the lefties, attributing the corona virus to China is racist. Saying that China caused the pandemic and is responsible for the size of it because they lied about it is not only racist, but it’s part of a conspiracy theory.
According to the lefties, the first rule is never let a good crisis go to waste. See what’s in Nancy Pelosi’s three trillion dollar bill? Maybe all of us should. It’s almost as long as the Obamacare bill was, the one Pelosi said you had to “sign it to see what’s in it.”
We’ll keep this one short too. Wouldn’t want to tax those dogma-driven lefty-supporters’ brains too much.
We already have a bunch of idiots running many states, mostly the blue ones, you know, the ones in fiscal trouble. Cuomo is a smart idiot. He ordered the corona virus-infected elderly back to the nursing homes to create the biggest kill-off of old people we’ve ever seen and then covered his tracks with a nursing home investigation. Now that’s brilliant. Now that’s the epitome of and a metaphor for democratic politics.
Joe Biden for President? Watch the movie The Manchurian Candidate.
By Peter Weiss
When Jimmy Banquet Chef came by, he brought their dinner on a kitchen truck. He wore his big chef’s hat and a big bright smile under that hat. He was happy for many reasons, first of which was that he had a great dinner for them: rolled, stuffed filet of sole in a white fish sauce and topped with fresh mushrooms.
Yummy!
Because they’d finished their work and he didn’t have much to do into the next day, he’d cooked this on his own, happily and clearly with love. He justified it, not that he actually needed to justify it, with making enough for Bill and Jimmy G to run as a special, so before they dished up for themselves he unpacked the two pans of rolled fish into The Falstaff Room kitchen. Caesar came by as he did so and while the banquet chef didn’t shoo him away, he most certainly did not welcome him. Jimmy Banquet Chef didn’t welcome Caesar enough such that Caesar did not come too close and did not stay long. He did not even step fully into the kitchen.
All three girls saw this. They were close by the serving window. Caesar saw them see it and maybe that more than anything else irked him, the notion that they saw him being not wanted, even diminished. He found a way to at least somewhat gracefully inquire about the special and its pricing and then bowed out of the kitchen.
Unpacking the pans of fish meant leaving them covered with foil and in a safe place. It meant putting the bain marie of sauce into the steam table and setting the mushrooms there too. That done, Jimmy Banquet Chef stuck his head out of the double doors and called “Hey kid.”
Bill got up quickly and joined Jimmy Banquet Chef in the Falstaff Room kitchen. They dished up their plates from a separate pan of fish that was already set in sauce. This was the extra pan he’d brought for his family and their newly adopted kid, Bill Wynn. They dished out five plates and when that was done Bill carried out the first three while Jimmy Banquet Chef set everything in order and followed him with the last two.
They sat around Kalista’s service counter, Kalista and Victor, the two elder Greeks, on one side, her serving side, the two Jimmy’s and Bill on the other. At first, conversation was about business, parties for the next day, the ones Jimmy Banquet Chef and Bill had prepped. They ate and talked and sat comfortably and happy. The conversation, as it always did, soon switched to Greek at which point Bill finished what he was going to eat and got up. He put his dirty dishes in one of the bus boxes, went over by the wall in the passageway leading back toward the main kitchen. There, he stood leaning against the wall and lit a cigarette.
It was getting close to opening time for The Falstaff Room now. Bill didn’t care and he knew Jimmy G didn’t care. Once the restaurant opened, if an order came in someone would come and get them. So he stood away from the others while he smoked. He didn’t want his smoke to disturb them as they finished up eating.
While the stood there, Rosie came out. Without any hesitation, she went right over to Bill, stood against the wall next to him and reached for his cigarette. He did not stop her, did not pull back.
“We’re not going to be too busy,” she said. She puffed his cigarette and held it.
“We’ll see,” Bill said.
“I have to pee,” Rosie said. “Want to hold my skirt up for me?”
By Peter Weiss
Listen to the Democrat pundits. No matter what they are asked they always revert back to the old, tired Democrat talking points. Ask about anything and the answer will invariably include an attack and/or criticisms of President Trump and a condemnation of the Republicans. Ask anything of them and their lapdogs, Pravda USA, the mainstream media would-be unbiased press, and the answer is always a blame Trump.
So here’s the real question. When did we stop thinking? When did we become subscribers to a dogma, and stick by that dogma even when we know the people pushing it are lying? Even when we know that the people pushing it couldn’t give a flying shit about us? I mean forty million (don’t call me a liar since that number is only thirty-eight point something million) of us have lost our jobs and Nancy Pelosi is showing video of her twenty-four thousand dollar freezer filled with twelve dollar a pint ice cream.
And by the way, how come they are not working? We are paying them/her, aren’t we?
So how is it that our leaders can say the most nonsensical stuff and the half of us that ascribe to whatever side is saying it just nod and say yeah and take it on faith that they’re being straight with us? How can we stand by and let them continue in their hypocrisy, change their opinions based upon who is being accused of any given thing, propose things we know will hurt American citizens and bankrupt the country?
Where did our critical eyes go? Where did our brains go? Why are weed and liquor stores open when churches are closed?
Or: when did we stop thinking?
(We’ll keep this one short. Our brains don’t seem to be at full throttle these days.)
By Peter Weiss
In light of what he’d been thinking sitting there, Bill immediately felt ornery. He felt horny too, and given everything, he shouldn’t have felt horny, but then he was only 21 years old and that pretty much said it all.
To him, it was a hoot. Before he was a cook, he was no lover, to be sure. He didn’t have a girlfriend until he was a sophomore in high school and getting that girlfriend was a story in and of itself.
Danny Resnick. That was the story. Bill played football in high school and the team was a team on and off the field. Bill and Danny were talking one day and Bill mentioned the girl he liked in his math class. Danny was a big tight end, maybe 6’2″. He had really big hands and long arms. They were with other team people out in the park (the school had a park right across the street where students could go on their lunch hour) and Bill saw the girl. He pointed her out to Danny who told him he’d kick his ass if he didn’t go over and ask her out.
As if that weren’t enough, of course the team members razzed him as he went over. They chanted “Wynn, Wynn, Wynn,” following Danny’s lead, all the way until he got there by her. People in the park thought it was just the football team being stupid. But Bill heard it in the background all the way.
Long story short, she said yes and he had his first and only girlfriend. They stayed boyfriend and girlfriend the rest of his way through high school and only broke up when he went away to college.
Good thing for her Bill would think not once, but many times over the course of his life.
What did he know about girls? What did he know about relationships? What I know about anything, he thought as he was sitting there.
And truth was he didn’t know anything. He was wholly unfit and unprepared for Pam, his first live-with, and he ran from her when it got super-serious and he got scared.
What did he know about his wife? About love? About anything?
So he was an accidental cook, maybe a coincidental one because it was a coincidence with Robert – and that was surely God looking out for him – that caused Robert to go the extra mile first to save him from being fired his first night when he was a busboy (a college graduate busboy) and had the trouble with the customer over the spilled soup, and second for taking him into the kitchen and training him to be a cook.
Now, all the girls, all the waitresses, the kitchen women and here, in this hotel, the laundry girl as well as the waitresses.
Why? One of those sixty-four thousand dollar questions.
Surely it was him in part. He did lose more than 60 pounds and was now a very skinny 135. Girls, so it seemed, liked the skinny boys. But he wouldn’t have known it really because even skinny he didn’t have a lot of girls. He had Pam and maybe two others and that was it.
Until he started as a cook. And by then he was married, well, not quite married but living with his wife-to-be and they were already engaged, if you could call it engaged because they had just agreed to get married, told her parents they were getting married and had set the date.
Ain’t life a bitch? Isn’t that the way things go?
