December sped by. Bill worked almost all the time. He was used to working all the time since at Suburban he was on a split shift. Working banquets and then The Falstaff Room was like being on split shift especially when there were early banquets. Then it was a fifteen hour day, sometimes even more, and lots of overtime. He had an hour break between banquets and Falstaff set up unless something was really crazy. Usually things were not crazy, just hectic.
In effect, as it worked out, Thanksgiving weekend was the only break they got even though it was busy in its own right. The Falstaff Room worked, was full most of the time. They did not do overall records, but they did Thanksgiving records. The room ran at near capacity from opening to just-about closing. Jo Ann worked late as was her new routine and she cut out only when she could without disrupting any service.
Beverly did not wear that second earring in her left ear until one day late in the second week of the month. They had a breakfast banquet she was working, a full set of luncheons and two large dinner banquets too. It was one of those banner days where everyone was working all day. The Falstaff Room was completely booked with reservations, but this was nothing new now since they were booked well in advance and it was near impossible to get a reservation.
The breakfast went off without any hitches. It was a simple one, scrambled eggs, choice of sausage or bacon and home fries for six hundred. The hardest part of this one was the size, not the prep or anything like that, but the dish-up. That was fast and furious from four dishing-up stations. Even Jimmy G worked hard at it.
Bill now had his own banquet crew. Or, what that meant was that for dish-up he had his own crew of stewards who worked with him every time. This made it so they all knew each other, knew each other’s ways, knew what each other was doing and what they needed to do. It also meant that they worked with Bill’s being left handed. His being a lefty meant things had to be set up differently in order to be most fast and efficient.
Bill ate bacon and sausage. He loved bacon and sausage. He did not eat while he worked the dish-up, but he ate during the prep when things were done and getting put into serving pans.
One of the nicer things of this banquet was that the rolls and breads were superior, including specialty items like hot, fresh croissants. Nothing better than a fresh, hot croissant with espresso.
He was able to pass Beverly a croissant. Passing food was a little tricky sometimes and he did not do it as a matter of policy, but for this banquet, due to size, the waiters were not stopped from such things. In fact, he and Beverly had a moment while she ate her croissant and he worked. They talked. This was nothing unusual since all the cooks knew the waiters and did the same with their friends. They didn’t talk about anything other than the weather, the day, the holidays.
They found each other in the staircase about ten. Bill told her straight up that he didn’t have much time, that he was on a short break before they started for the lunches. She grabbed him and kissed him profusely, hard, deep, wild. She also took his hands and put them all over her.
“I am so horny,” she said.
Bill withdrew from her, but not immediately. He indulged her a moment, kissed back, allowed himself to feel her over her clothes, then pulled back.
“I can come around two,” he said.
“Me too.”
“How’s it going?” he asked.
By Peter Weiss
Quick, easy, short and sweet. We can’t afford a Biden presidency and we can’t afford Democratic rule of the country.
Last time when I talked about the cost of a Biden presidency and Democratic rule, I spoke about it in terms of money. For someone like me, it will cost me about 20,000 dollars over four years if Biden wins and the Democrats take over. I simply can’t afford that.
For this time, it’s not about the cost in terms of money. This time it’s about the country.
When a dictator pulls off a coup, the first thing they do is cut off the communication lines, the airwaves, the media, the news. That way the people cannot know what is actually going on.
They restore the media and all when they’ve completed the takeover when they control the airwaves and only let the people know what they want them to know.
Here in America, that is happening now. When Twitter and Facebook censored the New York Post article and no media outlet covers it other than Fox, that’s tantamount to what the dictators do. It is also a complete abrogation of our first amendment rights.
Simply put, when the media, the deep state and the multi-billionaire tech people all form a coalition to hide facts and bias an election by creating and perpetuating a false narrative of what is really going on in this country, the plane is going down.
You know what they say about when the plane is going down — put your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye.
Well if the leftists are allowed to pull this off, you might as well just do that.
By Peter Weiss
Beverly melted under his touch, relaxed under his hands. She didn’t say anything. Bill didn’t say anything. He rubbed her shoulders, massaged her back and down her sides.
After spending a good amount of time working on her, he finished with her neck. He bid her put her head forward and lean forward so he could get a good hold of her and make his way up and down. She was verily pleased.
The last thing he did was plant one quick kiss right in the middle of her neck. Almost instantaneously he could see it gave her goosebumps.
“That was wonderful,” she said. She leaned back against him. Bill spread his legs so she could settle in. “I owe you,” she said.
“It’s okay,” Bill said. “You needed it. And I was happy to do it.”
“I guess I have my work cut out for me.”
“You’ll do what you do,” he said.
“I guess I will.”
“Just remember, no action is an action.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Beverly said. “Wanna kiss me?”
“No,” Bill said. “Well, yes I do, but no I won’t.”
“Too bad for you.”
“Yeah, but it’s right I can’t say I always do what’s right so maybe God will put up one on my plus side.”
“You’re funny,” Beverly said. She stood up, turned so she faced Bill and kissed him. “I’ll let you know with our signal for meeting again.”
“Okay. But all you’re gonna get is talk.”
“I’m okay with a friend.”
“Me too.” Bill stepped past her. “Weekend doesn’t seem too busy cause of the holiday. Don’t know about The Falstaff Room, but I’m guessing it will do okay.”
“See you when I see,” Beverly said, mostly toward Bill’s back as he started to walk off.
The Falstaff Room that weekend was moderately busy. Rosie and Edelgarde were ever themselves. Kalista still did not fill Bill in on the details of that one waitress and Caesar. Jimmy G spent most of his time out of the kitchen whenever he could and he was happy. Jimmy Banquet Chef came out by them to eat dinner both weekend nights and they all had a jovial time and ate well. He went home early both nights because this was “it” until after New Year’s. Between this weekend and the end of the year banquets were packed and reservations at The Falstaff Room were plentiful.
Toward the end of that night Rosie came by Bill when he was alone in the kitchen. It wasn’t a flirty visit and it wasn’t to ask Bill if he wanted anything. It was to warn him regarding something she’d inadvertently heard. Apparently Caesar had not given up on attempting to get Bill into some sort of trouble.
Caesar’s plan was simple. It didn’t involve the girls or Millie and it wasn’t even about the food’s not being cooked properly. Rosie told Bill she heard Caesar talking to someone on the phone and from what she could glean they were plotting to have whoever it was say that he or she’d seen Bill spit in the food.
When Rosie came out with it, with that being it, Bill laughed. His initial reaction was to say “Is that all he’s got?”
“Seems to be,” Rosie responded.
Bill didn’t say anything. He was already thinking. He was thinking, and he couldn’t exactly say why, about Mr. Jim. He was thinking about all that Mr. Jim must have gone through when he was starting out in his career, even, maybe, all the gruff he’d had to take working on the dining cars. He was thinking how Mr. Jim would probably tell him to simply make all the food great and not to worry about anything else. Everything else would take care of itself — that’s what Mr. Jim would say.
Bill wasn’t so sure but he was sure that everyone around him would take care of him. If Caesar was so stupid as to try something like that it would surely backfire.
By Peter Weiss
The election will be here soon and what will happen will happen. Between then and now about all that is certain is that no one knows for sure and the networks and pundits will make plenty of money. Nancy Pelosi and her pals will continue perpetuating the false narrative that they actually care about the American people and they will continue lying to us as they’ve been doing for the last four years. Their puppets, the mainstream media Pravda USA, will assist them in making their lies seem like truths.
It’s incredible.
It’s amazing.
It’s unbelievable to see.
When we were kids, our parents used to say “one lies and the other one swears by it.” Well that’s what it is for them. Then they all laugh at us, the idiots we are, and make their money. The networks and Amazon and Bill Gates and the social media owners make billions. Pelosi and her friends make hundreds of thousands and maybe millions.
We get divided and lectured to about how we need to wear masks.
No matter who wins the election, there is little brightness ahead. If Trump wins it will be four more years of lies and deceit by the left that will continually work to destroy him.
If Biden wins we will discover how he has deceived us all along and we will see the left entrench themselves so deeply we will cease to be a two-party system.
Or, if you think what Facebook and Twitter have been doing was something biased, their censorship of the New York Post article shows us we ain’t seen nothing yet. In fact all we’ve been seeing, really not seeing, shows us that we see is not what we’ve got.
Such sorrow. Profound sorrow.
Is this really all that we are as a species?
By Peter Weiss
“So let me tell you a few things,” Bill said. “You’re not looking at it clearly. In the times we’ve been here together, we’ve done what we’ve done and that’s simply what it is. We can’t take it back. But I can tell you about guilt. I can tell you about feeling like a dog, you know, like a dirty dog. I can tell you about having to run into the shower so your wife don’t know you been with someone else.
“You want to know about those things?”
Beverly looked at Bill. She didn’t move away from him. She didn’t say anything.
“I can tell you about being with someone else and then coming home and your wife wants to be with you. I can tell you what if feels like inside your mind, inside your soul. And I can tell you about having to lie, having to say your spouse is the only one… about looking down to your feet because you don’t want to look them in the eye.
“I can tell you about all that shit,” Bill said, “about what it’s really like. But then of course I can only tell you what it is for me. I don’t know how other guys feel or what they feel. I don’t how some people are who they are and do what they do.”
Beverly reached out and took Bill’s hand. “What would you do if you were me?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Bill said. “Absolutely nothing. I wouldn’t do anything with anyone until I was a hundred percent sure what I was gonna do in my marriage. Gonna tell him you know and give him a second chance? Gonna kick him out the door? Gonna go for revenge-sex and make him pay with spite, venom and your nastiness? Gonna do nothing? Not say anything, do anything and hope it blows over?”
Beverly squeezed Bill’s hand. “Those all my options?” she asked. She leaned in toward Bill like to kiss him, but he leaned away.
“I could probably think of a few others,” Bill said. “Give me some time.”
“What would you do?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy, baby. I’m no better than your husband if you want to look at it honestly. And I know you want to look at it honestly. So a real answer is like what I already said. If I were you, I’d do absolutely nothing but some real soul searching. I’d take a good look at my life and what it is and then see what I want it to be. Then, only when I had a sense of that would I start to think about taking any actions.”
“You might never get to have me.”
“And that would be right if that’s what you decide you want.”
“You’d be good with that?”
“How is that a real question here?” Bill asked. “I mean how does what I’m good with affect what you need to consider for you?”
“Why can’t I just have a little time off?” Beverly asked. “Why can’t we just have some fun and call it just that?”
“Don’t work like that, baby. And you can have it if it’s what you want. Get one of them waiters who wants to get in your pants and go have some fun. Go have all the fun you want. But don’t come crying when it doesn’t turn out to be the fun you thought it would be.”
“I’d want it to be you. I’m already getting to know you and care about you. And you kiss good too.”
Bill smiled at Beverly. “Come here,” he said. He led her to the stair one down from where they were and settled her in front of him. “I’ll rub your shoulders,” he said.
By Peter Weiss
Quick, easy, short and sweet. I can’t afford a Biden presidency and I can’t afford Democratic rule of the country.
Here’s a quick rundown and it doesn’t talk to the $2000 less I pay in taxes due to the Trump tax cut or the three social security increases I’ve gotten under Trump when I didn’t get a single increase ever under Obama/Biden:
Home heating oil under Obama/Biden: $3.84/gal
Gasoline under Obama/Biden: $3.56/gal
Electricity under Obama/Biden: $0.13/kwh
Home heating oil under President Trump: $1.58/gal
Gasoline under President Trump: $1.91/gal
Electricity under President Trump: $0.10.4/kwh
The heating oil alone is about, and this is a conservative estimate, 800 gallons at about $2.00/gal less, which is about $1600.00/year less for me.
Gas is about $18.00/tank less. Two tanks a month is about $400.00/year less.
Electricity is for me about $200/year less.
So that’s about $4200.00 per year that I save under President Trump, and again that doesn’t mention the social security increases I’ve gained as well or anything else that is less expensive under his presidency.
On a pension and social security, or completely on fixed income, I simply cannot afford a Biden presidency.
To start, the Biden policies over four years will cost me pretty close to $20,000.00. The first $8000.00 will come from repeal of the Trump tax cuts. Sure, Biden won’t be “raising my taxes,” but the effect of repealing the cuts is the same as raising my taxes.
Then, all the rest, with AOC and the new green deal and all the other ridiculous bull shit Biden and the Democrats are talking about, you know, like free college, you don’t have pay off your student loans, free Medicare for everyone, huge increases in the welfare rolls with the open-border-come-on-in policy, $15000 gifts to first time home buyers (and more)…that will make me wish it was only about $20,000 total loss.
So this is real math and real understanding of the way things work according to regular hard-working, taxpaying people. It’s not someone showing off $50/gallon ice cream in front of a $24,000 freezer ruling us. I thought that was Marie Antoinette.
No. Any way you slice it, I can’t afford a Biden presidency and Democratic rule of our country.
Can you?
By Peter Weiss
Hard to believe that we’re living in America. Hard to believe that the narrative that has been pushed for the past four years has been allowed to go relatively unchecked.
To be clear, short and simple: WYSIWYG Not.
What you’re seeing and reading and hearing in the mainstream media is not anything like what is really going on.
Rule of thumb is that when everyone is coming down on you in unison, like what we’re seeing from the left and the mainstream media Pravda USA, you’re usually pretty close to right and going against those everyone’s personal interests.
Or, how many of those mainstream media Pravda USA media multi-billionaires who now seem to control what we see and hear have billions of dollars of business interests with our world enemies like China?
Be careful what you ask for.
Be careful what you think you want. It may not be that at all.
Think for yourselves.
What Trump thinks is worn on his shoulder.
Don’t you have a right to know what Biden thinks? What he’s done? What’s really been going on?
By Peter Weiss
Emptiness.
That’s what they had in common.
After Beverly told him “Tell me about it” they sat awhile in silence again. They didn’t look at each other. They sat looking at that half wall/half window directly before the staircase. Then, still without saying anything, she reached to him and hooked her arm through his.
“That emptiness is what we have in common,” Beverly said. “Nothing is gonna bring my baby back and nothing is ever gonna fill that void I feel all the time now.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Bill said. “Nothing’s filled mine yet, not even writing. Writing only fills it for when I’m writing. And then it’s like I’m a empty ship looking to find my cargo, going here and there getting things but never getting my cargo, the one that I’m looking for.”
“What things?”
“A wife, a relationship. Maybe I thought she could fill it, but that’s not happening.”
“What else?”
“Not girls,” Bill said. “Not like that anyway. I mean pussy is nice but looking for it, no. I think I’m looking for friendship, a closeness that might fill the void. But guys don’t want to talk about this shit, so it’s mostly girls and when you get to talking about deep, intricate and intimate stuff, you know what happens.”
“What?”
“C’mon Beverly. You know where this is going.”
“Where?”
“To a place where this staircase ain’t gonna be enough.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because sooner or later we’re gonna start to feel for each other, you and me, and one time, while we’re commiserating, maybe when we’re just talking, one of us is gonna cry and the other one is gonna hug them and we’re both gonna be overcome with passion.”
“You really think that?”
“Sure as I’m sitting here.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t be sitting here.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t. That what you think? What you want?”
Beverly slid herself closer to Bill, her arm still hooked in his. “I want that emptiness to go away.”
“No matter what happens with us, I can’t make it go away. You can’t make mine go away either. Best we can do is hold each other and maybe distract each other.”
“Who was Robert?” Beverly asked.
Bill turned toward her and kissed her then. He kissed her long and deep and hard, so much so that their faces were tightly pressed together. It was not playful kissing. He kissed her roughly, purposefully, seriously. Bill felt Beverly kissing back, felt her kiss just as hard.
“I wanted that,” she said when they stopped. “I wanted to feel someone wanting me, wanting to smother me with themselves.”
“See what I’m saying?” Bill said.
“If that’s why you kissed me, fuck you,” Beverly said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you kiss me just to show me what you were saying about where this is going?”
“I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you. I kissed you because I wanted to taste you and I wanted to be kissed. I kissed you because I wanted us to be close.”
“Do you want me?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“A simple and straightforward one.”
“It’s not like that. It’s not like I just want to get with you. I want us to be right there.” Bill pointed from his forehead to hers. “You know, here. And I don’t want anything from you. You have no idea what you’re doing. You know a little about what you’re feeling and what you think you might want. But you don’t know what comes with it.”
“That a yes or a no?” Beverly asked.
By Peter Weiss
Beverly was eager to get the conversation away from her. Bill wasn’t all that eager to speak about himself. He’d already told her how ugly he thought he was when he was younger, how he hadn’t had any woman success until he was in the kitchens when all of a sudden all the women wanted him. Irony of irony of course was that he was married.
“Tell me about you,” Beverly said. “About your life, about what you really want.”
“My life,” Bill said. “Not much to tell about my life. About what I want, that’s easy. If I had my way, I mean if I really could have my way, I’d just stay at home all day long and write. That’s all I care about.”
“You don’t care about your wife?”
“Course I do. That’s not what I mean. What I mean is the only thing I love doing is writing. I’ve always loved it and I don’t know about the future, but I can’t imagine not loving it forever.”
“Writing now?” Beverly asked.
“Short stories.”
“When?”
“Well, that’s the rub. Working all the hours I do, it’s hard. See, when I went to that party I wasn’t looking for a girl. I wasn’t looking to pick anyone up, to meet anyone. I was living alone and happy at it. I went to school, I wrote, poetry then, and that was my day, every day, every day the same.”
“Were you happy?”
“I don’t know what happiness is,” Bill said. “And I don’t trust happiness. I feel it every now and then, and then it goes away. Every time I’ve come to let myself be happy, or so I think, something takes it away from me.”
“That’s sad,” Beverly said. “I think I was happy until my baby died. I think if I start to measure out what’s been in my life, like on a scale, I was happy until that day. Mostly. You know. Not every day or every moment of every day can be happy.”
“At least when I’m writing I don’t think of anything else,” Bill said. “I’m totally lost in what I’m doing. When I’m not writing, I don’t mean like today or yesterday, I mean like for long periods, I get miserable. Then something always brings me back to it.”
“I think you’re lucky to have something like that in your life.”
“Me too.”
“Now what about your marriage?”
“Well I surely wasn’t looking for it. I wasn’t looking for anything and I had my whole life planned out in like one sentence, which was that I wasn’t gonna do anything but write. Course that all changed. She’s a dancer and dancers have to dance while they’re young.
“So I decided that I’d work to support her and then she’d kind of do the same for me. That’s where we’re at. But honestly, we didn’t decide that. I volunteered, and to this day I don’t know why the hell I did that. I do know that she eagerly and unhesitatingly accepted my proposal for things to go that way.”
“I understand deals,” Beverly said. “We made the deal to have the baby and for him to support us. Shit happens.”
“Happened to us, to me,” Bill said. “Before I got busted, I thought I’d be like a social worker or a teacher or something using my BA. Never thought I’d be a cook. Never thought I’d be around all these girls who wanted me, or, really, wanted something from me and were happy to do me so they could get what they wanted.”
“Tell me about it. You know how many waiters been trying to get in my pants?”
“Not really,” Bill said.
“No,” Beverly said. “I guess you wouldn’t know.”
“Except for Mary, I never initiated anything with anyone,” Bill said. “Maybe it was cause I’m missing something. I always feel that way,” Bill said, “like there’s something missing, like there’s an emptiness in me I can’t fill.”
“Tell me about it,” Beverly said.
By Peter Weiss
Quick, easy, short and sweet.
So today started the Supreme Court nomination hearing.
Unfortunately, I caught the first Democrat speaker in her opening statement who made the hearing not a hearing about the Supreme Court but about demonizing (as if they haven’t done it enough already) President Trump.
It was disgusting. The Democrats are disgusting.
Usually I would balance that statement by saying the Republicans are too, but honestly, after what we’ve seen in the last four years, no need to temper the statement anymore.
They dress like aristocrats, business people, people whose appearance needs to be formal. But they, the Democrats, are more dishonest, hypocritical and out and out disgusting than any class of people I’ve ever known.
They, these same Democrats, have spent four years attempting to destroy a duly elected president, to demonize him and make him responsible in his four years in politics for all they have done in their last fifty years.
These same disgusting Democrats who have spent these last four years in the biggest, dirtiest attempted power grab we’ve ever seen have shown us that they care noting for the country and its well-being, that they care only for their own personal control. Take power at all costs, the country and the American people be damned.
Consequently, they have shown and are showing us that it is time for American politics to be transformed, not for America to be transformed.
The Democrats were disgusting in what they did to Brett Kavanaugh and they are now already being disgusting in what they are doing to Amy Coney Barrett.
Overall, these same Democrats are nothing more than pigs in their own shit and they need to be limited by term limits.
