Bill was glad his wife was asleep. He took off his sneakers before he went into the house, crept in quietly, got himself a beer from the refrigerator which he took with him into the shower. He’d made it almost all the way through the shower before his wife came into the bathroom. She was quiet too. He didn’t know she was there until she pushed the shower curtain aside and stepped into the tub with him.
“I have to pee,” she said. She reached up to kiss him and started peeing at the same time. “Thought I’d join you.”
“I’m glad you did,” Bill said. He handed her his beer, watched her take a sip, stepped to the side so she could get into the water spray.
“Rough day?”
“The day was easy. The night was very busy. More than ever before. New records all over the place, for the night, for the week. Maybe new record volume sales.”
“You are off tomorrow, right?”
“Yes ma’am. Last one maybe for a couple of weeks. Lots of banquets. The Falstaff Room is doing great. I’ll make the money while I can. After the new year it slows down.”
“We’ll do a leisure day then. Sleep in if you want. I don’t have much shopping, but I do need to do laundry. We can do it over my parents’ house.”
“That’s okay with me,” Bill said. And it was okay because his wife’s father was a good drinking buddy, always a willing partner, always ready to fix them a good triple gin and tonic. Not only did he fix the drinks, but he kept them coming too. He would keep them coming all afternoon and evening, and if Bill had too much to drink, it was no problem because his wife could always drive them home. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Bill and his father-in-law did not always get along well. His father-in-law was dead-set against the wedding, and they were complete opposites politically. Bill was a hippie, not so much a lefty as an independent, someone interested in seeing that America did the right thing. His father-in-law was a conservative, a senior cost analysis man for a major steel company. He was also a WWII vet, not that he actually saw combat. He was a pilot and a pilot trainer stateside.
Once they were married, once Bill was a son-in-law and was gainfully employed and working hard for his daughter, his father-in-law eased up on him some and they became more than cordial. Their political discussions, though heated at times, were interesting and even fun. The more they drank the more friendly they were. The more times they drank together and saw each other, the closer they got.
So going over there tomorrow was no big deal, was in fact something for Bill to look forward to because he knew he would be drinking lots of gin and tonics and probably watching the Cleveland Browns play football.
His wife handed him back the beer bottle and he set it on the rim of the tub. She shifted so they could both be under the spray of the water. There, they hugged and kissed and held each other and stood a long while. They kissed and they kissed some more and then they kissed even more.
“I love you,” his wife said to him.
“I love you too,” he said.
“No,” his wife said, “I really love you.”
“I really love you too,” Bill said.
He held her tight against him, hugged her, began there in the water kissing her all over. He started with her face, went down her neck and then over her all over on top. When he was done with that, he took up the soap and told her to turn around so he could wash her back.
His wife gave no objection. She turned happily and made sure he washed her exactly where she wanted to be washed.
By Peter Weiss
America is one of the most multicultural countries in the world and certainly one of the most diverse. It is also one that is devoted to allowing and encouraging all its peoples to be “all they can be.” Yes, from all over the world people try to come here to live the American Dream.
It is precisely America’s diversity, its multiculturalism and its attempts (at the very least) to respect all cultures and diversity that make America difficult. Few other countries have allowed their different voices to be heard, represented and protected as America has.
Not too long ago I ran a series of blog entries here dealing with the many different viewpoints in America. The blog picture was of two different pairs of shoes and the series asked which shoes you wear, examining how viewpoints were shaped not only by culture, religion or race but also by socio-economic level, education level, age, life experiences and more.
Put all of this together in a pseudo-free society and yes, America truly is hard.
Nevertheless, despite how diverse America is, despite all the factions within it and the subcategories within the factions too, no matter how difficult it is as a country and a society America must have a sense of decorum and a sense of law and order about her.
I’m no youngster. I’ve been around a while. I taught for more than thirty years and worked in kitchens for about twenty-five years. I say this only for a sense of context.
Sometime toward the end of the last century/turn of this century we started the beginnings of disregarding simple rules of argumentation and logic. It’s actually much more complicated than that but in a positive light I’d like to say that what took place was well-intentioned and what we’re experiencing now is unintended consequences. I’m not so sure that this is altogether true, but…
So in the interests of brevity and simplicity, you know, for the no-think, mob-mentality, all-in-regardless-of-any-consequences lefties, I’ll talk to only the first part of the “breakdown” now.
Simple, first part, feelings aren’t facts. If someone walks up next to you, maybe a little closer then you like but not really in your space, and is just there but not doing anything and you “feel” threatened even though you’re not being threatened in any way, your feeling threatened does not constitute a threat. The fact is you haven’t been threatened even if you feel that way.
If everyone who felt poor at any given time didn’t have to pay taxes because feeling poor was “a fact,” no one would ever pay taxes.
America’s societal breakdown begins when feelings are equated with facts. (I feel hurt by this statue, so rip it down.)
America is a difficult country. That’s an opinion, not a fact.
By Peter Weiss
They didn’t ever need the extra vegetables Jimmy Banquet Chef brought, not because they weren’t busy but because Bill did have it covered. And because he had it covered they ended up taking those extra vegetables back to the main kitchen. Still, better to be safe than sorry, and while they didn’t run out of any menu items, they were close to running out on more than a few entrees.
Clean up didn’t start until almost 1:00 AM. They worked straight though past midnight. Caesar didn’t cut it off until 12:30. Tired and sweaty and exhausted as well, they rested some after working what ended up as the final orders for the night. Jimmy sat in his seat, Bill stood leaning against the door to the walk-in, out of sight to customers. Both he and Jimmy G smoked a cigarette. Caesar would have ratted Bill out to the chef for smoking in the kitchen if Jimmy G hadn’t been smoking too.
The girls, all three of them, because it was late at night and they hadn’t eaten dinner, asked for and received hamburgers and fries. Bill, as he always did, made their plates pretty.
“Goddamn I’m tired,” Jo Ann said when she picked up her food. “I’ve never seen it like this. I mean we’ve been busy and have had busy nights. But I’ve never seen it like this.”
“Ya,” Jimmy G said. “That ad must have done something.”
“You’d think we were giving something away,” Jo Ann said.
“Maybe it’s the holiday season coming up on us,” Bill said.
“Maybe,” Jo Ann said. She shrugged her shoulders, took her food and went in the back by Kalista to eat.
Rosie and Edelgarde got their food when Jo Ann was back on the floor. They came up to the window together, both smiling, both happy, both looking to Bill as if they were tired.
“Good night?” Bill asked. He was messing with them, didn’t have to ask. He already knew.
“I’m sweaty everywhere,” Rosie said.
“Me too,” Edelgarde said. “Want to feel?”
“Definitely,” Bill said, “but not here and now.”
Edelgarde turned her bottom lip down in a mock pout. She leaned in and said, “My panties are soaked.”
“Mine too,” Bill said. “I’d let you feel, but, you know.”
“Oh, I’ll get that feel,” Edelgarde said. “Maybe not tonight, but I’ll get it.”
“Yeah,” Bill said. “I bet you will.”
Rosie and Edelgarde went to the back by Kalista to eat too. Jimmy G and Bill still rested. They were both tired and both getting up the energy to do the breakdown. They smoked another cigarette, relaxed with no orders to work.
“I’m gonna run to the head,” Bill said to Jimmy G when he’d finished his cigarette.
“Ya,” Jimmy G said.
Bill went out of the kitchen, past Kalista’s station and headed on down the ramp. Just before he got to the bottom, he heard, “Wait up” from behind. It was Edelgarde and she was scooting behind him to catch up.
When they were walking together, Edelgarde told him Kalista was making them more espresso. Then she said she really had to pee and she wanted to pee along with Bill.
Bill didn’t say anything. They walked quickly together and went to the faraway staff bathrooms where they’d been before. Once they were inside, first thing Edelgarde did was kiss Bill. She kissed him long and deep.
“I am so horny,” she said. She reached into Bill’s pants, felt his soaked underwear and more. “I see you are too,” she said. She took his hand and put it up her skirt. She wasn’t kidding. Her panties were soaked.
They both peed in the same stall, watched each other, laughed happily. At this point, it was already no big deal. When they were done, Edelgarde turned and faced the wall of the stall, leaned over and supported herself with her hands on the wall..
“Do me,” she said.
By Peter Weiss
So a few things.
First, little of any of the anarchy going on amidst the pandemic is Trump’s fault. He’s only been in Washington and in politics three years. Pelosi, Schumer, Biden, Nadler, Maxine Waters: they have been there many, many decades. If you add their years in Washington together, close to if not more than two centuries. The pandemic is not Trump’s fault. All those long-timers can criticize – that’s easy to do. But given what is, they would have done much worse with their policies, surely not better.
Second, given that Trump’s only been around three short years and they’ve been in Washington through the civil rights era and for all the time it’s taken to demonstrate the utter failure of traditionally governed democratic cities like Chicago, the police problem (which is not accurately portrayed by the biased media and not even a police problem per se), the education shortcomings, the racial strife (also not accurately portrayed in depictions) and the financial mismanagement cannot be blamed on Trump. It’s a fallacy to do so, as absurd as Cuomo (another life-long, family-pass-on Democratic politician) not taking responsibility for the nursing home deaths he personally caused with his order. Trump didn’t write his order!
Yup! Blame it all on Trump. Tear down all we’ve built. Destruction is easy.
Finally, the media, now a 24/7 full-time conglomerate owned and operated by a few multi-billionaires (that make Trump look like a pauper comparatively) who have personal business interests contrary to America’s foreign relations policies (they’re in bed with China, the country doing its best to destroy us) have a personal interest in not presenting truth and/or reality. Or, man is by nature selfish and greedy.
KISS. Keep it simple stupid.
It’s not the police. It was a bad policeman.
It’s not a racial issue or a justice issue – that’s what they, the media and the Democrats want you to believe. Why? Money and power. It’s just that simple.
Yes. There is injustice, even inequality.
No. It’s not what they’re telling you or near like what they’re telling you.
Finally, what’s tearing down our country as I’m writing this is a funded anarchist movement. It’s ominous. It’s organized. It’s destructive. It’s dangerous.
The silent majority can no longer stay silent.
By Peter Weiss
Saturday night in The Falstaff Room blew away all records. Not only did it set a new Saturday record, it set a new daily record and it ensured they would set a new weekly record. The new record was not just by a few covers. It was by more than a dozen covers. No one rested. No one took breaks. Only escape was a quick run to the bathroom and that did not happen for Bill or Jimmy G until Jimmy Banquet Chef, done with all his banquets, could run out to them and cover for them individually while they ran, just about literally, to take a leak.
Jimmy Banquet Chef, along with Bill’s input, which was crucial, did an inventory of what they had and what they needed in the kitchen. Bill was always over-careful. That stemmed from his Suburban days when they were very often very busy, when there was no time to be able to run for things and when running out of something might lead to a major backup. No one liked that. Once you backed up it was really hard to catch up.
“You got it pretty much covered,” the banquet chef said.
“I think so,” Bill said.
Bill and Jimmy G, each having had their bathroom relief, were back at working orders. In general and for the most part, Bill was the one who took the dupes and read them off. As he worked the Garland and spoke with the banquet chef, he kept pace with the orders, ordering and picking up. At one point while he was there, Jimmy Banquet Chef cut prime rib for several orders. One order was only rib. Bill got rid of that one quickly. Two orders had ribs on them. Bill ordered them to the banquet chef and he helped Jimmy G put up the plates, put the vegetables on them and made sure all was set just so.
“I’ll bring some extra vegetables,” the banquet chef said.
“Okay,” Bill said. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Yup.”
Just before the banquet chef headed back to the main kitchen Caesar stepped up to the serving window. Jimmy Banquet Chef and Jimmy G were in the midst of putting up an order.
“Everything okay?” Caesar asked.
“Why shouldn’t it be?” the banquet chef replied.
“I wanted to know,” Caesar said.
“Ask Bill,” the banquet chef said.
“Why are you here?”
“Why are you here?” the banquet chef said. He looked Caesar directly in his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be watching after the dining room?”
Caesar did not leave the serving window immediately. He waited a moment, watched the order they were working get put up and picked up. After the order was gone, he still lingered.
“Don’t people have to be seated?” the banquet chef asked him.
Caesar made a little grunt-like sound but didn’t move.
“Well,” the banquet chef said, “I’m gonna head over to the main kitchen.”
Bill didn’t say anything. He had called another order for pick-up and he and Jimmy G were working it. As they were, Kalista came in with espressos. She carefully put them down in the corner by the entrance in an out-of-the-way place.
The order that was coming up was Jo Ann’s. When she came to pick it up she said something to Caesar about people waiting. Caesar didn’t say anything. He watched her order get finished being put up and watched her take it away. Only then did he leave.
Jimmy G said something to himself in Greek. Bill was thinking mother f’er and suspected Jimmy G had said something like that. He asked him. Jimmy responded with a big smile.
“You know,” he said. Pretty much like MF’er in English.”
“What I thought,” Bill said.
By Peter Weiss
Check out one of the last scenes in Zombieland: Double Tap, the one where Woody Harrelson jumps onto the hanging hook which leads all the zombies to jump off the edge of Babylon up-high.
Stupid is as stupid does.
So look at the mob. Look at the mob justice. Look at our failing Democratic Leaders and their idiocy in pandering to the mob, the mob justice, to going contrary to their oath of office, and on and on.
Look at those big-business sports organizations. Teams are owned by multi-billionaires, players are mostly all multi-millionaires, (like our Democrat leaders are). Look at those poor, downtrodden Hollywood actors, again, need I say it? Multi-millionaires. For all of them, only their business interests are at heart when they pander to the anarchists who have usurped any sense of real protest regarding the George Floyd murder. The rules we must follow do not apply to them. They are simply afraid of losing their incomes.
Stupid is as stupid does. Us following them is stupid, stupid, stupid. It makes no sense whatsoever.
The staggering increase in crime will not be fixed by defunding police and replacing them with community service organizations and social workers.
It’s simple. We can close our eyes and think this ridiculousness being perpetrated by the Democrat state and city leaders and those famous national leaders won’t affect us, or we can start to look at what’s really going on.
That’s where we’ll see that our leftist leaders are grossly failing us and that they ascribe to running blindly into stupidity.
Along with their lapdog Pravda USA media, also owned by several multi-billionaires who are looking after personal business interests, they are selling us a total lie. If we follow them…
Well, stupid is as stupid does.
