:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

:: Merry Christmas ::

I don't know about you guys but the holidays snuck up on me very quickly this year. Like the past few years, I'll be working on Christmas and celebrating with my co-workers. I won't see my parents, again, but I had to do something nice for myself.

Just kidding.

To all eight of my readers, whoever you are, where ever you are, Merry Christmas.

Labels: merry Christmas

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 3:44 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Already Looking Forward to Next Year ::

And not just because my favorite band is going to release a new album.

Labels: music, U2

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 5:07 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: Christmas Party ::

Sunday night was our company Christmas party. It wasn't just a party for our restaurant; being part of a corporation, we combined our party with that of the restaurant just across the street. There was potential for partying it up with people I've never met (especially considering the stories I've heard about past Christmas parties) but for the most part, I was just there for the free beer and free food.

I mean, free beer and free food. Can't beat it, right? And at least they did quite well with the latter when the cooks came out with a whole roasted pig. They had other stuff like nachos, paella, and yuca (which I love) but there's few things I like eating more than whole roasted pig (not surprisingly, they're other food items). I was one of the first in line, of course.

My co-worker was right behind me, but she didn't know about my penchant towards weird food. When I got up to guy slicing up the whole pig, I asked for parts of the pork belly, skin, and one of the pig ears. The moment I said "ear" she smacked me on the arm and exclaimed, "oh my God, really? EEWWW!" Whatever. The guy carving the pig gave me a knowing smile and said, "muy bueno, señor." It was delicious.

I went back for seconds and the guy asked, "amigo, te gusta cabeza de puerco?" "Si, señor." I wanted the tongue but some food freak already got to it so I settled for a hind leg and half a skull. When I came back with my plate I freaked out my former floor manager, his fiancé, two co-workers, and some chick who was drawn to my long hair. Whatever. Like gnawing on a pig's leg is any different from gnawing on a turkey leg. It was delicious.

As for the booze, it was limited to beer (cheap, fizzy, yellow crap out of a keg) and wine (cheap shit that you might find at Denny's) so my hopes of doing tequila shots with co-workers were dashed (they wouldn't allow keg stands either). As it was, my hopes of a drunken make-out session with one of the cute hostesses never happened either since I just couldn't get drunk. (It's impossible for me to get even a buzz off of beer unless I drink the strong Belgian or German stuff and even then I need to drink on an empty stomach.) Sometimes, having a high tolerance sucks.

The party itself was okay. There was mingling, some bad uncoordinated-white-guy dancing (possibly by me), and way-off-tune karaoke (definitely not me) and some lame attempts at drinking contests. It was relatively mild in contrast to some of the stories I heard from past Christmas parties where there were drunken hook-ups, fights, and drinking games. But I had fun, and I got to eat a pig's head. It's not every day you can say that.

Labels: Beer, drinking, food, party, server stories, weird

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:04 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Will Power ::

...I have none. 

Or so it seems at times. If I'm properly motivated, I can be quite disciplined in many ways but there are times where I feel I'm about as restrained as a drunken frat boy in a strip club. Especially when it comes to food.

Ever since I wrote this post I've been trying to, if not lose, then at least temper the weight gain. It's been only moderately successful. Two reasons, I love to cook. More than that, I love to eat.

I've been laying off the garlic bread at work but I've been experimenting with braising (everything from leg of lamb, beef shanks, to veal) lately and I work with a head chef who's unusually willing to share recipes. Anything braised calls for some type of starch to truly appreciate it and I've been preparing various types of mashed potatoes to accompany my dishes.

It doesn't sound too bad except when I cook my primary goal is flavor. That means I use a lot of butter, salt, spices, and cream. (Liquor-based sauces are great too.) In other words, it's almost as if I eat like I want to have a heart attack.

Since turkey season is over, I told myself (with a straight face even) that I'd stop with the rich stuff and try to lose that weight. Then I went grocery shopping this afternoon.

I passed by the meat section to look for some lean sirloin steaks and fish but as I passed by the butcher's case, something catches my eye: "Dry aged Prime Ribeye Steaks." You fuckers. This is something they rarely carry and now they display it? Great timing guys, thanks.

Usually, the only time I buy steaks is if they have ribeyes or porterhouses for sale. But, good God it's Dry Aged! I picked out a nice 27oz. bone-in cut.

It didn't end there. I have a weakness for ice cream. Specifically, Haagen-Dazs' Dulce de Leche. I actually don't have much of a sweet tooth but I do treat myself to a pint of ice cream once in a while. I can easily walk down the cookie or cake aisle and leave empty handed and I haven't bought candy in literally over a decade. But the freezer case sometimes calls to me like a sweet oasis in my savory dessert...er... desert so I try my best to avoid

 it.

But that same day, I was looking for, um, something and passed by the Haagen-Dazs section and I couldn't help but notice a new flavor. I lean in to take a look and see something called "Fleur de Sel Caramel." They're trying to kill me.

I haven't cooked the steak yet but the ice cream? It was awesome.

Labels: cooking, food, i'm a fatass, ice cream, steaks

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:56 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Happy Thanksgiving ::

The holidays kinda snuck up on me this year. I say this all the time but I really can't believe that it's already holiday season. I guess I've had a lot going on, which I suppose is a good thing. I hope your Thanksgiving is a good one. Enjoy some turkey. I know I will.

Labels: bourbon, thanksgiving, turkey, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:12 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Dolphan for a Day ::

Once again, my little brother sent me tickets to a Dolphin game for my birthday (which was a while ago so please no belated wishes, I'm depressed about my age as it is) and once again, I went with my buddy Chuck. He's one of the few Miamians who would appreciate a respectable Dolphins team.

When he bought the tickets around Week Two it was just another division game versus the Patriots. Tom Brady just got hurt and the Pats looked awful. The constantly crappy Dolphins just got smacked around by the perpetually sucky Arizona Cardinals (which is like losing a footrace to a pre-Subway Jared).

It's hard to see how the season will unfold that early. Since then, Matt Cassell has developed into a decent starter for the Pats. The Dolphins have gone 6-2, and Arizona is the leader of the NFC West (which is like being "Best Porn Star" two years in a row; sure you're winning but you still suck.)

Both teams came into this game with identical records and a second wind. The Patriots salvaged their season after much uncertainty, and the 'Phins, um, sucked most of this decade. It went from being just another game to a real rivalry matchup.

Our seats were upper deck but right around the 25-yard line. Unfortunately, we were on the visitor's side so were surrounded by obnoxious Boston fans. (I started to get annoyed at the number of Red Sox hats around. As long as we're talking about this, I had laugh at how many Culpepper jerseys I saw there. I can understand wearing old Marino jerseys; he was a local legend. But Culpepper signed for one year, spent half of it on the disabled list and wasn't very good when he did play. I think Miami fans have become so despondent over the state of their team that they prefer clinging to what could have been over what's actually happening. And I complain about being a 49ers fan. Sorry, I digress.)

It was a fun game to watch live. Neither team could run the ball so all the passing kept things interesting. Miami kept it close but you tell early on that New England's offense had a slight edge. Miami had a couple of dropped passes early on that killed drives and would set the tone for the rest of the game. Chad Pennington had a very good day but I've never seen him play a game where he doesn’t have at least one throw that made you realize why Hootie is crying.

Sure enough, in the 4th quarter, down by ten points and pinned at their own 20 Pennington lobs up a floater for an interception that crippled any chance at a comeback. Up until that point, it seemed like Miami could at least tie the game, since neither team had much trouble marching up and down the field. Instead, that crippling interception just to demoralize the team. Not long after, I noticed Dolphans leaving early to beat traffic. (Why do people continue to deride just Los Angeles sports fans for leaving early? I see this almost everywhere.)

NE would go on the score ten more points, leaving my buddy Chuck in a state melancholy that no amount of beer could cure and he also left early. What started as an interesting game became a blowout. Not to say that we didn't have fun... quite the opposite. The mostly good-natured trash talking between the Pats fans kept things lively. Unlike last year’s low-scoring snooze fest, Miami scored four touchdowns, which gave the Phans a chance to sing the Miami fight song over and over again. (The song itself is kinda lame. Of course I sang along.)

Labels: football

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 9:41 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Hole-y Cheeseburger ::

...In Heaven, looking down at us, shaking his head thinking, "Jesus, we're gonna have a lot more people coming up next year."

That's the answer to the question posed by the mastermind featured in this video.

Labels: awesomeness, cheeseburger, double double, food, in-n-out

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:09 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: More Cooking ::

The local Publix (the grocery store on South Beach that looks like a Space Ship) had veal shanks on sale so on a whim, I bought two pounds worth just to see if I could successfully cook Osso Bucco. This despite the fact that I've only tried it once before and I can barely remember what it tasted like.

I couldn't be that hard. I talked to the head chef at The Steakhouse and he gave me a recipe that's flavorful and easy. It's actually not too different from braising lamb shanks, which I've done many times. Still, I do enjoy a challenge and trying something new, but not only that, I really like funny words.

Wish me luck. I just hope I don't cut myself or burn down my apartment.

Labels: cooking, food, klutz

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:08 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: I Need a New Hobby ::

I played tennis like usual Saturday morning despite staying up till six in the morning (I really wish I could say it was because I stayed out late at some club or bar, meeting some hot brunette but really, I just couldn't sleep). I had a really good session. I felt good once I got out there, and I was hitting the ball as well as I ever have recently. I figured I'd do just as well, if not better, when I played again Wednesday night.

Nope.

Tonight, if I wasn't hitting it into the net, they were sailing to the back fence. I hit half my shot off the frame, which would be okay except I'm supposed to hit them off the strings. Once the drills were over, I played a set against one of the other regulars. He's okay, but not quite at my level and yet, he kicked my ass. If tennis had a water hazard, my rackets would be in there right now and I'd probably be scouring ebay for replacements.

Good thing I'm not too temperamental. For that matter, good thing I don't play golf.

Labels: anger, frustration, tennis

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:37 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Football Woes ::

I've been a long time SanFran 49ers fan through the good times (back when we won the Super Bowl XXIX against Sandy Eggo 1995) and through the bad times (pretty much every year since then). I've tried to stay loyal when we became the laughing stock the last few years, but I had a glimmer of hope when we hired coach Mike Nolan.

When Nolan was fired, Mike Singletary, known in Chicago as the "Heart of the Defense" and having borderline psychotic intensity on the field during his years as a linebacker, seemed like a good idea at the time.

This guy spends his offseason as a motivational speaker, so it was reasonable to assume he'd be able to spark some intensity into an otherwise lackadaisical team.

And then he pulls this stunt. His reasoning? "I used my pants to illustrate that we were getting our tails whipped on Sunday and how humiliating that should feel for all of us. I needed to do something to dramatize my point; there were other ways I could have done it but I think this got the message across."

First off, why in the name of Venus' taint did this ever become public? Is this really something you want reported in the news? Second... for the love of God WHY?

I think I need to find a new football team. Any suggestions?

Labels: football, frustration, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:05 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: Cut ::

I've written before how I can be accident prone. I've been pretty good about not breaking glasses so far at The Steakhouse but last night I had a little bit of a doozy.

It was the near the end of Saturday night and I still had a couple of tables but I decided to get a head start on my sidework by polishing some wine glasses. One of the glasses had some water spots caked in so I applied a little extra pressure and sure enough, the stem snapped. This has happened many times before. I nicked myself on the underside of my left forearm but whatever. I barely felt anything. All of the sudden, I hear my co-worker Luis yell, "holy shit you're bleeding!" I look down at my arm and my sleeve is turning red and blood is dripping onto the table.

"That's not good," I say and I grab a cloth napkin and cover and apply pressure to the wound. I remember some stuff from First Aid and my immediate thought is to control the bleeding. Luis freaks (he's a rather overemotional Latin guy... read: drama queen) and runs off the grab the GM. Todd, our token gay waiter, looks like he's about to pass out and I calmly tell him, "Todd, grab that napkin... fold it diagonally... HEY pay attention... fold it diagonally... now roll it up... good... bring it here and tie it around my arm just below my elbow... tie it as tight as you can... tighter... tighter... you pussy." Luis comes back with the GM. "Hey Luis, come here and tighten this for me."

I guess the first thing the GM saw was the blood on the floor, the table, and my napkin and his first instinct was to call 911. I don't know what kind of histrionics Luis threw but everyone found out. The first guy in the back room was Dan, who stood there slack-jawed. I saw him I told him, "Hey Dan, do me a favor. Grab four wine glasses and take it to table 23. They ordered a new bottle of Matanzas Merlot. Do you mind presenting the bottle for me? Yeah, I'll be fine."

By that time, (barely two minutes have passed) almost everyone stopped by the back room to see what happened. I already went through a small stack of bloody napkins and the bleeding has barely slowed. Todd looked ready to either go home or throw up. Luis was still freaked. It wasn't spurting but it was flowing steadily. I wasn't sure if I hit a vein but this was certainly a first time I saw this type of bleeding in all the times I've injured myself. I've kept my arm elevated but it finally occurs to me that maybe I should sit down.

The Chef walks in and asks if there's anything I need. I ask him if he has any cooking twine. He says yes and when he brings it back, I tell him to tie it around my arm as tight as he can. Needless to say, it's much tighter than Todd's lame attempt and it seems to slow the bleeding.

The GM finally takes charge and tells everyone to leave. He grabs a busboy and orders him to get a trash bag and discard anything bloody. The paramedics finally arrive and the Floor Manager escorts me into the back alley. I sit down on the back of the ambulance and they look at the arm. By this time, the tourniquets worked so the bleeding has slowed. I tell the paramedics what happend. He sees the string and asks, "what is that? That's just gonna make it worse!" "I told them to tie it so it'll slow the bleeding." "Yeah, but that also prevents proper blood flow and it might make things worse."

Oh.

It's a moderately deep puncture wound, like I suspected, but the external wound itself was very small. One medic applies some iodine on it and wraps a pad and some gauze around my arm. My GM, standing there with a very concerned look on his face, asks what I need. As it is, I don't need to go the hospital, or even stitches. It's a small wound, and the makeshift tourniquet, however ill advised, slowed the bleeding enough that I don't have to worry about any effects of blood loss. All I need to do is keep the wound clean with soap and water. "Oh ok, cool." My GM is more incredulous. "That's it?" The medic goes into his explanation, which I wasn't paying attention to, since I noticed that the door is crowded with the kitchen staff rubbernecking to see what's going on.

The medic takes my information, tells me how to take care of the cut, and to look for symptoms of any possible infection. No big deal. They depart and I walk back into the back room of the restaurant and sit for a moment to absorb everything that just happened. I smell bleach and notice that all the blood has been mopped up. I couldn't help but laugh a little at how almost everyone else freaked out while I stay relatively calm. It may seem weird but you have to believe me, when that broken glass stem cut me, I barely felt anything. I was just happy I didn't have to go to the hospital again.

I start polishing glasses again, this time sticking to the stemless water glasses to avoid any more incidents. The GM sees me and asks if I'm okay and adds that I'm free to go home. "I have to fill out a worker's comp report and I need you to sign some papers. You gonna be here?" "I'm fine, I'll be here."

A few minutes later, the last table leaves. Luis comes back, sees me still here and asks "you're still here? I thought you went to the hospital!" "It wasn't that bad. I didn't need to go." "You fucking idiot you were gushing blood!" "It wasn't that bad." "Bro, you lost a pint of blood. " "I doubt it was that much."

Not that I couldn't see his point. There was blood on the table, on the floor, and I went through a small pile of napkins. But as far as I was concerned, I was never in "real" danger. First off the blood wasn't spurting through the air. Second, if there were any glass shards, the blood flow would have washed them out, something the medic confirmed.

Still, that wasn't fun. I never had a doubt that I'd be okay but I felt bad for a few of my more sensitive co-workers who had to see my blood everywhere. Of course by closing time, some of the guys, seeing that I was walking around felt free to crack a few good-natured jokes. "It's a good thing, you didn't leave early or else I would have had to deduct two points from your pool." "Hey Dan-E, if you wanted to go home early you could have just asked."

Labels: klutz, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:21 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: PPA ::

Sometimes I wonder if I'm getting too proficient at this whole waiter thing. I've been doing well for myself and the house since I started working at The Steakhouse. I have a good work ethic and I'm a strong waiter, but it helps immensely that I work mostly good people who are willing to help each other out. Considering the circumstances of my last job search, I couldn't have been luckier.

Being a pool house, one of the ways that management tries to motivate the floor staff to increase sales is monthly competitions to see who has the highest PPA (Per Person Average). I've won every month since I started working there and I'm a very close second place this month so far.

Sometimes, there are tangible prizes, other times it's merely bragging rights. However, last week, the new GM made a point during a pre-shift to acknowledge three waiters: Rey, (one of the guys who trained me) the MILF, and me, for having the top three PPAs for the last two months.

(PPA is the average of how much every customer you wait on spends while dining at your table. Last month, the top three were around $80. That means on average, each diner spent roughly $80 on steaks, apps, wine, and booze. Among other things.)

Our prize was either a $200 gift card to eat at The Steakhouse or one of our sister restaurants, or a bottle of wine on our list. Being good waiters (i.e. drinkers), we naturally gravitated towards the wine. Rey took a nice Barolo while the MILF selected a great Super Tuscan. I picked out a big Amarone. I've never tried an Amarone and it was a bottle that we're trying to get rid of anyway so it was perfect.

We're not done yet, however. The GM's competition for the month of October isn't on PPAs. Rather, it's on Tip Percentages (who's receiving the highest percentages of tips based on your sales).

Guess who's in first?

Labels: alkie, server stories, wines

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:01 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Fattier Fatty Melt ::

Remember my last post about the Fatty Melt?

Only guys like me would look at that and think of adding more grease in the form of bacon. All I did was add a couple of slices of bacon on top of the tomato. This guy went ahead and trumped my creation with this monster. Go ahead and scroll to the bottom of the page.

Why didn't I think of that? Well played, sir.

Labels: awesomeness, cheeseburger, cooking, food, i'm a fatass

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:33 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Fatty Melt ::

Stuff like this makes me happy.

A good friend emailed me the link asking, "is it odd that i thought of you when i saw this?" No, not at all. If anything, you know me too well.

Of course I made it at home. Several times. Add some bacon and a touch of mayo and you have all sorts of awesomeness.

Labels: cheeseburger, cooking, food, i'm a fatass

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 6:59 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Go Blue ::

I don't believe what I just saw.

We just won our first playoff series since 1988. And we did it by beating the best team in the National League.

Almost no one thought we could do. Hell, even I thought we couldn't do it. But I'm starting to believe.

Labels: baseball, Dodgers, whoa

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:22 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Carb Overload ::

Working in a restaurant, whether you're a chef, dishwasher, or waiter means you're always around food. Most places let the Front of the House (FOH) staff munch on some bread or salad or any leftover prepped items if we get hungry before, during, and after a shift. That free bread you enjoy at many restaurants has satiated many mid-shift hunger pangs.

It's great and all if you're hungry at 9:30 and you have two more hours to go before closing but it's not hard to overdo it, such as my case.

The Steakhouse has garlic bread on the menu that's just amazing. It's garlic, parmesan, truffle butter and white truffle oil baked on a ciabatta bread and there's always a few pieces floating around the line and left over at the end of the night.

We also have a wild mushroom risotto (this steakhouse has a strong Italian influence) that's awesome. Since I'm one of the few waiters that don't give the cooks a hard time, they usually ask me if I'd like a plate of risotto when we close. Of course I say yes.

(It's crucial to get on the cook's good side. It helps that if I have a customer that doesn't finish a bottle of wine, I get fresh glasses and treat the chef to a drink.)

They also provide a pre-shift family meal. Sometimes it's hot dogs. Other times, they make ribs with black beans and rice or spaghetti and meatballs.

Another thing that doesn't help is all the available dry good available in the back. The chef isn't so anal about inventory that he'll freak if I take home some peppercorns for my grinder (I go through a lot of pepper and I haven't had to buy any since I started working here). Just the other week, I wanted to cook my coriander-crusted red snapper with a tequila-lime cream sauce. One problem: I was out of coriander. I asked one of the cooks if they had any in the back, which they did, which I ground up that night and enjoyed a nice dinner.

I've also taken home some Old Bay, fennel, ancho chile powder, and some of that killer truffle oil, among other things.

(I'm not stealing from the company or anything. This is almost the same thing as working in an office and "borrowing" a stack of post-its or some paper clips. It's not like I tried to sneak a ribeye out of there.)

Combine all these factors and you can see now why I've gained about 8 pounds since I started my job at the Steakhouse. Trying to lose that weight working as a waiter is like trying to quit a cocaine habit by moving to Miami. (Not that I know anything about that.)

Labels: cooking, food, i'm a fatass, steaks

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 7:34 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: 5 Years ::

As of today, it's been five years since I moved to Miami.

So much has changed. Yet so much remains the same.

I've learned so much, especially that I have so much more yet to learn.

I'm a little different from what I used to be but... oh good God I need to stop before I keep writing these banal, hackneyed cliches.

Labels: introspective, Miami

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:51 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Football Pool ::

Even though I haven't been posting my weekly football picks on my blog, I'm still doing it for the "office" pool at the Steakhouse. Two weeks into this already interesting season, I've won two in a row.

Now, I'm not some Football Picks Genius or anything. It's more a reflection of the talent (or lack thereof) I'm going up against. And just plain dumb luck. Last week I went 12-4 and won easily despite picking Oakland to win. Yeah.

This week was a bit more touch and go. Out of the eight early games, I only picked four correctly (Minnesota, New Orleans, you're dead to me). I thought I was out right then and there and didn't really pay attention to the rest of the scores with much interest. Except somehow my SanFran 49ers (pulled out a win against Seattle, a pick no one else made. I went six for six in the afternoon games.

(It wasn't just luck. I picked my 49ers because I honestly thought Seattle was terrible and our defense is underrated and... Who am I kidding. We beat a crappy team by three points in overtime. It was sheer, blind, stupid luck.)

I found out that the pool came down a bartender and me. I like the guy but I really wanted, needed, to beat this guy because he knows absolutely nothing about football. He's one of the guys who thinks soccer is mistakenly called football (foreigners are so cute when they do that). And I could not let this guy beat me. To win I needed Dallas to win and I need the total points to close to 64 (he guessed 25).

No problem. I anticipated a high-scoring shootout. I just need Dallas to win. What killed me is that I had to, for a few hours, root for the fucking Cowboys. And for Terrell Owens. If you've read my blog for a few years, you know how much animosity I have for that idiot. No problem, I was working anyway, and we were lucky to be busy enough that I didn't have to stand around and watch the game. Thanks to a few bonehead plays by Philly, the Cowgirls pulled out a win. Sweet.

Let's see now if I can go three for three.

Labels: football, picks, sports

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:08 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Like Fine Wine ::

It's the dog days of summer for service industry employees in Miami, tourists being few and far between due to humid weather and the threat of hurricanes (something the University of Miami football team didn't heed... had to throw that in). There's a lot of standing around waiting for our first customer to come in so we have plenty of time for small talk and I've used it get to know my new co-workers.

There's only one female waiter but she's treated as one of the guys since she does her job better than many of them. That she's married with a 3-year old kid probably helps keeps the most of us at a distance. Of course, guys being guys, when she's not around, talk occasionally devolves into her being a MILF. It helps that she's friendly, works hard, has a great smile, and for my benefit, wears a nice pair of glasses. Don't ask me why but I like a girl who can look good wearing glasses. Yes, we've already brought up the "Latin Sarah Palin" comparisons.

(And politics aside, Governor Palin is undeniably attractive. And not just because she looks great with glasses. Total MILF soon-to-be GILF. And personally I'd love to gerrymander her constituency... if you know what I mean. That joke would work better if she were a congresswoman but, whatever.)

(Okay, back to the post.)

We were discussing the wine list and other things. I found out she's going to be 30 soon (no I didn't ask her age, I'm not that stupid). "You shouldn't worry. You could still pass for 25." Of course that comment made her happy but only temporarily.

"Think of it this way: we have stuff behind the bar that's older than you." She laughed. I couldn't tell you what made me think of comparing a woman's age to that of a spirit but it still made sense. To me anyway. Sort of. I point to a bottle of 30-year-old Tawny Port Wine. "That bottle of Port over there is still older than you are. So you're okay."

She's still laughing. "That makes me feel better. Thanks"

"You're welcome. Although that port probably tastes better."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Labels: I'm getting old, milf, waiting, wines

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:20 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: Bottle Service ::

Maybe it's because I'm not a clubber and don't earn a six-figure salary but I think bottle service is a huge waste of money. $240 on a bottle of vodka that I can get for $26 at the liquor store? No thanks, even if I'm splitting between six people.

But if you're with friends and you plan on getting drunk it sort of makes sense. For example, a shot of top-shelf vodka would cost you about $15 at your average South Beach club or restaurant. A martini upcharge is usually around $2. Inebriation usually takes place around the third to fifth shot, depending on your tolerance (and if you're doing other drugs). That's anywhere from $45 to $60 not including tip. But if you're with other vodka drinkers, it'll probably cost less per person and the 1 liter bottle will probably provide a bit more booze overall.

As a waiter, cocktail server, or bartender, you love to sell this because once you set up the person with the bottle, ice, and mixers (juice, soda, coke, etc.) your job is pretty much done since it's up to the customer to pour themselves a glass with however much ice and mixers as they see fit.

I sold my first bottle - Johnnie Walker Black Label - last night to an eight top of hip, young Latins on top of the all the food they ordered. Working at a pool house (where the night's tips are collected into a pool and distributed proportionately among the floor staff), everyone else was giving me high fives or "good job" slaps on the back.

Now, JW Black is a scotch I enjoy quite a bit and being a drunk connoisseur fanatic, I drink whiskey neat, in a snifter with nothing but a few drops of water, or at most a couple of ice cubes. So I shook my head when I saw that these guys were filling their tumblers to the brim with ice, and then watering it down with, well, water. But hey, if you want to overpay for a good scotch only to dilute it to a bland, savorless liquid, that's your business.

How much exactly? $275, not including tax and tip. Last weekend I paid $28 for my bottle. Granted, they drank a 1-liter bottle while mine was a mere 750ml. But at least I don't have to share mine with five other guys.

Labels: alkie, server stories, stupid customers, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:12 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Whoops ::

I love cooking. One of the reasons is that I get to play with sharp objects. That's just the guy side of me. It's similar to why a lot of guys can't cook but love grilling: we get to play with fire. Add an element of danger and guys will try just about anything. (If grocery stores put tampons at the end of an American Gladiators-style obstacle course, wives and girlfriends will never have to buy them again.)

Another thing about me as that I can sometimes be accident-prone. I bump into things, drop stuff, and knock things over. (It's amazing anyone lets me work in their restaurant.) Not a great combination if you spend as much time as I spend cutting, dicing, and chopping as I do. (Or for that matter, work at a job where I'm always carrying large trays of food and drinks.) But I've been quite lucky as I still have all ten fingers and toes. And fortunately, I've never dropped anyone’s food. (Though I lost count of the number of empty glasses dropped on the way to the dishwasher.)

I finally gave myself a nice gash on my left pinky last night with a new chef's knife I bought a few weeks ago. Nothing too serious: I was mincing up some garlic and rosemary for the rack of lamb I was cooking and the knife slipped out of hand and my pinky can now look forward to a quarter-inch scar.

I clean it, douse with a splash of tequila I had nearby (no, I was not drinking any - yet - and I couldn't find the rubbing alcohol), bandage it and resume cooking. Once the lamb was in the oven, the smell of tequila gave me a craving for a good margarita. I make mine from scratch, which involves squeezing fresh limes. I fail to remember the cut and the lime juice drips onto my finger. I couldn't tell you why or how but for some reason, lime juice on a cut stings worse than alcohol.

I avoid any more incidents, plate my dinner and pour a nice glass of Sangiovese. It was delicious, worth all the mishaps. Naturally, I almost knock over the wine glass.

Labels: cooking, klutz, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 4:55 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Olympics ::

I didn't really pay much attention to the Olympics beyond men's basketball, baseball, and women's beach volleyball and softball.

But I'd flip it on every now and then and I would occasionally see an event where my first thought is "this is considered a sport?"

Handball? "Race Walk?" Trampoline? Last time I checked, trampoline is something drunk people jumped on during a backyard BBQ. At this rate, beer pong should be a "sport" by 2016.

Labels: sports, unintentional comedy, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:02 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Nothing to Worry About ::

I've lived through some disasters and have been lucky enough to live through all of them. I grew up Southern California, which is earthquake country. Luckily, my city was out of any major quake areas so even the big ones that caused major damage in other cities spared my family and me from any harm.

Naturally, I move from earthquake country to hurricane country since life without the possibility of a natural disaster would just be too boring. I lived through Charley and Francis. Wilma went over fairly close to South Beach but I lived to write about it. I survived a few earthquakes, a few hurricanes, and this so the prospect of Fay was of little concern to me.

When I saw it bearing down on last week and saw it was still a tropical storm, it didn't seem like a big deal. The GM told us Saturday during pre-shift about possible precautions the company would take if Fay were to become a real threat. But he's a native, 3rd generation, Cuban Miamian and he's lived through worse. As he said this I sensed very little consternation in his voice, as if he could tell that it wouldn't be a big deal. Just to be sure I kept an eye on the news. Sure enough, the next night at work, the GM says to us that as of 4:30 Saturday, Miami was out of the "Cone of Error." This must have been common knowledge as we served over 200 people that night.

Work tonight was slow. It was mostly tourists who were determined not to let a non-hurricane deter them from enjoying their vacation. The Steakhouse has large windows on one side so we're able to see the rain falling and the wind whipping. But honestly, it didn't look any different from any other major rainstorm I've seen in my almost five years here.

One bad thing about working: I was invited to a Hurricane Party but declined since I had to work. No big deal. I'm sure another will be along soon.

Image courtesy of weatherunderground.com

Labels: disasters, earthquake, hurricane

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:24 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Training Day(s) ::

I started my new job at The Steakhouse last Monday. I arrive and greet the Floor Manager. He hands me some paperwork I need to fill out, after which I meet some of my new co-workers. Everyone seems laid-back yet work very efficiently in setting up the restaurant. Just before we open, the FM discusses my training schedule. He offers me a day off on Thursday but I tell him I prefer to just work six days straight (because I'm crazy). No problem. My first three days are on the floor shadowing a waiter. Thursday, I'll be in the kitchen behind the line (Really? Sweet.), I'll be working the bar Friday night, and Saturday.. if I make that that far.. will be my last night and I'll be taking tables.

The first night is pretty easy. It's busy for the Monday but nothing too crazy. I follow my trainer, who's working a party of 27 people. We go over our opening spiel, procedures, service methods, and he shows me how to work the computer. Other than being a family-style restaurant, it's not too different from Swank since it's also semi-fine dining.

The party is easy and he asks me to see if I could sell any after dinner drinks. I think I raised my stock when I sold eighteen shots of Lemoncello at $10 each. This was in addiction to the three extra bottles of wine I sold during the meal.

Tuesday and Wednesday is more floor training though it's with a rather intense guy who's been working there for about five years. He's one of the head waiters so he's accustomed to taking charge and does so with a very straightforward manner. His demeanor is a very straightforward, no bullshit, type and I'll learn later that he's like that even when he's making fun of his co-workers. Otherwise, training is more of the same, and I break only one glass.

Thursday was spent in the kitchen learning the menu. I've spent a few training days in a kitchen but this was the first time I had to go behind the line and actually help cook. One of the line cooks was a former co-worker from Seafood Grille (when asked how we knew each other, I joked we met in prison and were cellmates) and I'd be helping him out in the grill and broiler section.

Now, I love cooking so I was really looking forward to this. The first hour was spent observing the grill, the pasta section, and the sauté area manned by the Head Chef (who does look like he might have been in prison). Then I started getting my hands dirty (um, so to speak) with actual cooking. Nothing too complicated at first but it got busy, so I ended up helped with grilling, slicing and even plating.

The last two hours I went from being a trainee to a cook. (Pete was impressed that I picked up the menu so quickly, to which I reply, "I know what I'm doing. I watch Food Network.") And let me tell you, it was a blast. It's one thing to cook on a stove in my tiny kitchen but to work the line during a rush, keeping track of everything, and properly plating the dishes (as opposed throwing it on a plastic dish like I do at home) is a whole different world and it was pretty cool. Especially since their knives are much better than mine.

Once it slowed, Pete took a break and left to man the grill while he went on a smoke break. I chatted with the Head Chef, asking many questions, which he answered patiently and thoroughly. As thanks for helping them out, he let me cook up the lamb dish for myself. It was a half rack of Australian Lamb with a fennel-orange marmalade, pine nut crusted goat cheese, and a mint-balsamic reduction. It was outstanding. I think the Chef wanted to hire me as a cook right there.

Friday was spent training behind the bar. Again, the first hour was just learning the procedures, the computer, and some of the house specialty drinks. It was relatively slow and the bar guys knew me somewhat by now so after a while they mostly left me alone at the service bar while they tended to the bar customers. I hadn't bartended in a few months but most of it came back pretty quickly. Luckily, I didn't have any orders for odd drinks (like say, a Bahama Mama or a Red-Headed Slut) even though I had my recipe book just in case. And I didn't break any glasses either (that the floor was lined with rubber mats helped).

Saturday would be my last night training and I had to pass the menu test. It's a relatively easy menu and seeing how the food was prepped, cooked, and plated was huge so I passed easily. I ran a small station on my own and did okay considering my first night started off with two high-maintenance, pain-in-the ass tables. My final test would be at the end of the night. The GM sat at one of the tables outside and I helped set up his table. Once that was done, he told me to pretend he was a customer and perform my opening waiter spiel. Oh, umm... shit.

"Good evening, welcome to Swanky Trendy... um... The Steakhouse."

Fortunately, he has a sense of humor and he's been drinking since 9:30 so he laughed and said he hoped I didn't do that to a table (I didn't). I started over went through my introduction. I did well except for the fact that he said I talk a little fast (not the first time I heard that). He shook my hand and said, "welcome aboard. You're going to do very well. Don't fuck up." (I may have made that last sentence up.)

Labels: bartending, cooking, food, new job, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:33 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Job Hunting. Again. ::

Didn't it just feel like I was out looking for a job and trying to get acclimated to working at a new restaurant?

Well the rumors about Swanky Trendy Restaurant closing proved to be true, only it happened much later than any of us expected. We all knew it was coming. The owners are planning on putting all their resources into opening a new high-end steakhouse just across the street and they didn't want to the competition. When I first heard the rumor, it was early May, then late May, then it became late June. Some of the staff found other jobs, few of the guys stayed. Jed stuck around since his employment is guaranteed at this new place and he'll be grandfathered in as the head waiter.

Otherwise, the few of us left kept working as if nothing happened. There was a lot of talk about when we'll close and whether or not we wanted to help open the new place. A few wanted in. I was split, though leaning towards "nah" mostly because the GM is a colossal douchbag and I can't stand the idiot. What most of us were worried about was the amount of time between the old place closing and the new place opening. Ideally there wouldn't be more than two weeks so we wouldn't be strapped for cash but construction in Miami is perpetually delayed. I finally heard that there would be a three-week gap, which anyone who's familiar with the area would know that translates to four weeks to three months.

Management tried to keep this under wraps but this was the worst kept secret in a long history of worst kept secrets. The thinking was just in case the staff might be tempted to snatch a bottle of wine or something, which was utter bullshit (I prefer Scotch). I had a feeling that night was close to being our last since we were 86 half the wine list, Bacardi, several high-end vodkas and we were down to four bottles of sparkling water. The timing was a little odd since we had over 300 covers the night before, and we were consistently busy. That Sunday, I sold over $2000 without breaking a sweat and walked home with almost half my rent.

The asshole GM, who knew we were closing, went so far as to print out fake schedules for the following week. I couldn't help but laugh at this but I'm just happy not to be working for that pile of human garbage any more so I wasn't too broken up when I got the call from him the next day that Swank was "officially closed for business." He said he'd call me and let me know when the new place is ready but in the meantime I have a "three week vacation." Great, I thought. He's gonna call me in September. I had about three months worth of savings so I wasn't too worried.

Right after he called I went on Craigslist and started looking. I found a few postings for good places, one of those being a well-established steakhouse. They were holding interviews the next day at 2pm. I updated my resume and printed some out that night. I looked up steakhouse's website and did a little research about the history, menu, wine list, etc.

I get dressed and show up at 2:00 exactly. There's already about eight people ahead of me and I wonder if I should have arrived sooner. I start filling out my application, which didn't include a food and wine quiz (which I hoped for since I now know wine regions in France and Italy... thanks again Joo). The GM starts the interviews about 5 minutes later and the first few applicants are in and out in less than three minutes each. I was a little worried at first since I'm not sure if I'll be able to sell myself in such short a time. I find out later that the first few were fresh off the boat girls who were either under-qualified or tried to get hired by showing a lot of cleavage.

It's finally my turn. I'm nervous. I introduce myself, and he looks over my resume. You worked at [Swank]? That's a good place, why are leaving?” Because they closed. "Really?!"

We talk a little about my experience there, and I give him the highlights. He scans further down and sees I have bar experience which is good because he expects me to pick up a bar shifts, which would be really cool. We discuss my wine knowledge, which is decent. I know my Californians, some Australian, New Zealand and a little French, but they have an extensive Italian selection. No problem, I could learn.

He asks if I could come back later in the day to talk to the floor manager so he could get an impression of me which I'm fine with, since any sort of second interview is a good step (though I've been asked back before and that didn't work out so I wasn't overly enthralled). Just then the floor manager walks in. The GM asks me to hang out for a little bit to see if we can just do it now. Of course. (What else was I gonna say?)

After a few minutes, the FM introduces himself and we talk. He goes a little more in-depth with the food - I passed the impromptu steak quiz - and wine but he's also responsible for the bar so he ask me questions about liquor and mixed drinks. I know how to make all the popular drinks (cosmos, mjoitos, manhattans, etc.) but he seemed impressed with my knowledge of whiskies. "I'm glad you mentioned this because I've worked with some people who were waiters for over five years and they couldn't name me one Single-malt Scotch."

The interview ends and we all shake hands and they tell me that I'll hear from them by Friday. Great, I think. Solid interview, but I've heard that before. I'm only one of the first few applicants. They're doing interviews until four and then they'll do it all again Thursday so with all the available help out there, they might find someone more qualified. Still, I'm cautiously optimistic and I feel pretty good the rest of the day. I spend the rest of the week looking mostly online since this time of year it's hard to find work because it's slow everywhere. I interview at a sports bar and I send out my resume to several places but most of them don't seem promising.

I get a call Friday and it's the GM of the steakhouse. I'm in. I start my training on Monday at 4pm sharp. When I hang up, I clap my hands and do a couple of fist pumps. AWESOME. I don't have to look for a job any more and I missed only one week of work (well, two if you count training).

I enjoy the rest of the weekend and look forward to my new job. That's in the next post.

Labels: idiots, job search, moving on, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 9:20 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Oh by the way... ::

... I start a new job at a steakhouse today. Wish me Luck.

I'll write about the details later.

Labels: job search, new job, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 3:45 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Geez, You're Killing Me ::

Like most people, I don't know when I'm going to die. But I just discovered how I'm going to die.



It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't know how to make it but I found the damn recipe. It was nice knowing all of you.

Labels: awesomeness, bacon, eating, food, i'm a fatass

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:20 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Manny being Manny ::

Fans of baseball know that Boston outfielder Manny Ramirez is always good for some interesting drama a few times a season. But I found his latest quotes interesting:

"The Red Sox don't deserve a player like me," Ramirez told ESPNdeportes.com Wednesday. "During my years here, I've seen how they [the Red Sox] have mistreated other great players when they didn't want them to try to turn the fans against them.

"The Red Sox did the same with guys like Nomar Garciaparra and Pedro Martinez, and now they do the same with me. Their goal is to paint me as the bad guy. I love Boston fans, but the Red Sox don't deserve me. I'm not talking about money. Mental peace has no price, and I don't have peace here."

I'll try to break this down so we can figure out what the fuck he's talking about:

"The Red Sox don't deserve a player like me..."
No, they do not for reasons I'll get into later. But this is about the only truthful thing he says.

"During my years here..."
I'm willing to bet good money that he couldn't tell how many years that is. In fact, I'm convinced that last year during the playoff run against the Indians, he probably thought he was still playing for Cleveland.

"...I've seen how they [the Red Sox] have mistreated other great players when they didn't want them to try to turn the fans against them."
Teams as well-run and dedicated to its fanbase as Boston have no need to turn fans against its players. The fans are knowledgeable and capable enough to do it on their own. Just ask Bill Buckner.

"The Red Sox did the same with guys like Nomar Garciaparra and Pedro Martinez, and now they do the same with me..."
Garciaparra went from being an injury-prone perennial MVP candidate to injury prone clubhouse cancer and defensive liability. He only productive season since that 2004 trade was in 2006 where he had a solid .505 slugging percentage but managed to stay healthy for only 122 games. He's currently on the DL, where he and his husband Mia Hamm have built a second home.

Boston decided against re-signing Pedro in 2004 because of concerns about the health of his shoulder. They were willing to go two years but he got four from the Mets. He pitched effectively in 2005 but underwent major reconstructive surgery for his shoulder in 2006 and has been a non-factor since, something they predicted might happen. When Pedro returned to Fenway with the Mets during an Interleague series, Boston played a tribute video for Pedro on their Jumbotron and the fans gave him a standing ovation even though he never played an inning.

These two examples don't shout "mistreatment." It was merely the moves done by a shrewd organization that doesn't feel the pressure to spend money for the sake of spending money. Also, Boston shelled out over $130 MILLION in salary for their collective services. I'm having trouble seeing any mistreatment.

"Their goal is to paint me as the bad guy."
He did this to himself, and again the fans don't need encouragement. (A few beers usually does the trick.)

"I love Boston fans..."
He loves himself. And money.

"Mental peace has no price, and I don't have peace here."
He's right about the "mental" part.

"...the Red Sox don't deserve me."
No they don't. The Red Sox are the envy of many organizations for their ability to develop and sign talent, and their commitment to winning and to their fans are one of the reasons why Sox fans are so obnoxious loyal and attract so many bandwagon fans outside of New England.

They certainly aren't afraid to spend money on players that embody that gritty Red Sox persona (Mike Lowell, Jason Varitek, Josh Beckett) and those players hold each other accountable during the long season.

So you're right. They don't deserve a player who loafs to first base during a no-hitter, someone who's widely regarded as the worst defensive left fielders currently playing or someone constantly makes trade demands every season because he's not happy with something, or something who's determined to sabotage his own season and by extension that of his team just because he's bickering with management.

They deserve better. They deserve someone who gives a shit.

Of course, as I was writing this post, THIS happens. So forget everything I just wrote. Manny's going to kick some major ass and my Dodgers are going all the way!

(This is what I've been telling myself so I won't self-immolate.)

(Seriously though, haven't we Dodgers fans been through this already?)

Labels: baseball, Dodgers, Manny, Red Sox, sports

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 5:46 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: One thing I don't Miss about L.A. ::

... are the earthquakes. I was lounging around yesterday and I just happened to switch over to CNN right when they cut to breaking news about an earthquake hitting Los Angeles. My initial reaction was concern for my parents, the friends I have back there, whether Dodger Stadium was still standing, and if my favorite In 'n Out was undamaged (not necessarily in that order).

Then I heard the newscaster say something like "if you're just joining us, an earthquake measuring a 5.8 on the Richter Scale has hit. The Epicenter is located roughly 35 miles east of Downtown...

Wait, a 5.8? That's it?

Remember the movie "Independence Day" where those flying saucers of death shake the ground as they take position over major cities? Will Smith wakes up during this and asks "that an earthquake?" and his girlfriend says "go back to sleep. It's not even a 5 pointer."

That's not an inaccurate portrayal of how native Angelenos respond to quakes. Believe it or not, I've managed to sleep through my share of some serious quakes. I've been around some friends when one hit and while the initial reaction is mild consternation, after the first three or four seconds, when we figure out that it's not that bad we simply ride it out and carry on once it ends.

Still, I called my parents and a few friends, just make absolutely sure they were okay. My mom, who tends to overreact to just about anything, sounded calm and composed and said nothing broke or fell in the house. My friend Pedro was probably the closest, working in Orange County about fifteen miles away and said he was taken for a ride. But like most natives, he sat through it relatively calmly and went back to work.

A high-speed police pursuit has a better chance of disrupting life in Los Angeles than an earthquake that's less than a 6.0.

Labels: disasters, earthquake, los angeles

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:34 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: SoBe ::

It recently occurred to me that despite the fact that even though my blog description reads "...waiter/bartender in South Beach..." I don't actually write that much about South Beach itself. Or for that matter, Miami in general. I've mentioned a thing or two in passing, posted a few photos, and regularly plug The Abby and a few other local spots but that's about it.

Part of it is due to the fact that it wasn't until only this past year that I viewed my stay in Miami as anything other than temporary. I still haven't really decorated my studio the way I'd like to. I still use the same silverware I brought with me from L.A., and it wasn't until two weeks ago that I finally bought some decent knives for my kitchen. (Considering how much time I spend in there, you'd think I'd have done this sooner.) It doesn't help that the rare moments when I'm looking for my "real job," most of the ad companies I look at are out of state.

There's also the impression that residing in South Beach means you're living the South Beach life of constant partying and clubbing every weekend, heavily drinking mojitos and vodka-cranberries, doing a lot of drugs, and getting laid regularly. (Um... no, no, yes but mostly beer, does caffeine count? and hell no... on the other hand my tennis grip has never been stronger.) By those narrow standards, no I'm not really experiencing South Beach but then again, I've been here long enough and seen enough of it that I'm not really sure I want to. I rarely complain about being broke the way a lot of my co-workers do.

Part of it may be because I sometimes read this blog and a slew of other Miami-based blogs I keep on my Blogroll. Most offer better insights into life in Miami and South Beach. Complaints about traffic, idiot drivers, and the occasionally feeling that you're not in America? Done.

Thoughts on the nightlife, restaurants, and sights to see? Others do it better.

Still, I moved to South Beach in September 2003 and it feels irresponsible to not write about the city that I've spent almost five years in, whether those experiences have been good or bad. I loved it when I moved here but I think it had more do to with getting a fresh start and not so much Miami itself. I know this now, but it's grown on me in ways I didn't expect.

(Also, I never really expressed the dispair I was feeling during the last few days of my last job search. If I didn't find something soon, I'd run out of money and I had to pace the possibility of moving back in with my parents. Or being homeless, and at 33, homelessness or death seem preferable. Was it really that I dreaded that move or did I come to embrace Miami as home without realizing it?)

Sure, there's things about this place that I abhor and there are still times I feel like an outsider. But the good outweighs the bad quite a bit. And I'm not quite so complacent that I'd stay here if that wasn't the case. Perhaps Miami really is home.

Or I could just change the header.

Labels: introspective, Miami, South Beach

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 9:51 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: Early Night ::

"Dan-E, my wife and I got into a fight this morning so I'm closing tonight."

"Good to know Tino, thanks."

Weekdays at work have been slow lately, enough so that some of the floor staff is often cut even before we open. I don't mind working slow nights. I usually get a good section, the customers are more mellow than some of the human garbage that trolls through on weekends, and I still make good money since the slower pace allows me to be more attentive with my tables. But the constant six-day workweeks (and a few seven-days) for the last five months or so since I got hired here are getting to me. So when he volunteered to stay, I looked forward to being cut early.

Tino's a good guy. He's an immigrant from Argentina who started here working as a busboy. But unlike some complacent types, he worked hard to better his English and worked his way up to food runner and eventually a waiter, which is what he's been doing for the last year or so. We've really bonded in the last month or so since our sections are often right next to each other during weekends and we work well together. We enjoy good small talk, bitching about the managers, and we both have ponytails.

His wife is actually very gregarious, with a strong, outgoing, straightforward personality that leaves little room for ambiguity. I've had a few fun conversations with her after work. "You sure you want to stay?" I ask just to be nice. "Yeah man, my wife is gonna beat the shit out of me," he replied with a laugh that was only half-joking.

But it's also clear who wears the pants in the family (Tino seems to prefer those calf-length pirate pants) and having met his wife, I'm pretty sure she could kick his ass. She's not huge or anything; a thin 5'7" but she's a workout freak and looks like one of the girls who are freakishly strong, kinda like Monica from "Friends." (Also, she's fourteen years older than him.)

I helped set up the place and wish him good luck before I take off. "Thanks, but it's probably going to be dead."

"No, I mean good luck when you go home tonight."

Labels: girls, humor, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:09 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: What Else? ::

It's interesting to see the contrasts between most of my co-workers’ approach to their jobs and lives versus mine. All of us certainly work hard for our money (some more than others) and take some pride in doing our job well. But for guys like Jed and Lou, this is it for them. Jed has been working at Swanky Trendy Restaurant for over five years, which along is longer than my total waiter experience. A few years older than me, he's told me many stories about the many places he's worked at around the country.

Lou's quite a bit younger but I get the impression that he's in this line of work for the long haul as well. Theo, who’s has a wife and a mortgage, is another lifer. My buddy who works at The Abby is another great example.

The contrast between us is that when it comes to our lifestyles, they glide with an easy approach in that if they're not doing exactly what they want to be doing, they're very comfortable with who and where they are. They come to work, make their money and either go home to smoke weed or go out to the bar to have a few beers and many meet a few chicks. Before work, they're either sleeping well past noon and/or smoking more weed. And they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Granted they have other interests, as Jed has traveled to different parts of the world and Lou has smoked weed from different parts of South America. Jed in particular is quite fascinating.

But the point is that for them, this is it. They can't imagine doing anything else, not because they don’t know or they're too dumb or too lazy, but because they just don't want to or need to.

In a way, I envy that.

I've done other things, like some of these guys have. But while I do enjoy being a waiter, I can't help but feel I'm meant for something... different (I won't use words like "bigger" or "better" since that would belittle the profession and I have too much respect for service employees to do that.) Ever since I found out that the restaurant would be closing in late August, I've been saving money for when I finally leave the service industry (at least full time). I've been (very) slowly working on my portfolio to send out and it's only a matter of time before I'm back behind a desk playing with Photoshop instead of at a table trying to peddle a bottle of Perrier-Jouët.

Or so I keep telling myself.

(By the way, none of them know I have these thoughts. they're buddies and I enjoy hanging out with them but they're not people I would share this much personal depth with. Which isn't a bad thing. Very, very few people I know are people I would share stuff like this with.)

(Oh yeah, blog readers don't count.)

The reason why they're closing after eight years of business is because management is going to open a high-end, fine-dining, steakhouse right across the street. If it's anything like the other restaurant openings in South Beach, it's going to be a cash cow for everyone involved. (And unlike some of the gimmicky places that closes within two years, this place might have staying power.) Management has assured the floor and kitchen staff that as long as we do our jobs well and prove reliable we'll be invited to work at the Steakhouse. Thanks to my recent hot streak, I'm not worried about being left behind.

I've seen bits and pieces of the new place in the form of design renderings, new glass and silverware, possible menu items (and I thought prices at Swank were obscene), marketing ideas and it is impressive. Those other guys are very excited about the opening and are salivating over the possibility that the next Stone Crab season will be very lucrative.

My initial reaction to the news was tepid. Great for them, I hope they do well but I'm going to be behind a desk again by that time. (Which is another reason I'm not worried too much about going to the new place.) But the more I think about it, the more I'm starting to get sucked in. Potentially, I could make in one season (October 15 through May 15) almost as much as I would make in one full year as a Jr. Art Director.

Great, but why? I've said "one more season" last year and here I am now: same shit, different restaurant. I could make my money now but I'm already too comfortable as it is. A higher-paying job doing the same thing I do now and I might end up ensconced in my complacency and might end up doing this for a very long time.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. I've often wondered how my life would be different if I actually decided to try bartending and waiting at a younger age, and I've entertained the thought of just saying "screw it" and going into bartending full-time. I've made friends that have done very well doing this; some now own a nice condo, some have nice cars, a few have traveled, some are content just being major potheads.

But would that negate every reason for moving to Miami in the first place? Or at the very least, wouldn't that render those first two years as pointless? The late nights, the endless deadlines, the stress, thousands in student loans, all for naught? Two years followed by a gratifying end, thinking I found my career... only to discover I prefer waiting tables and tending bar?

I'm a very good waiter. I'm also a pretty good bartender. And those three months in Prague, working my ass off during that internship proved that if I really wanted to, I could be a pretty good Art Director. And I want to. But I'm left wondering what exactly it is I want more.

Labels: career, introspective, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 8:47 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: My Eyes! ::

Ever since I got this new job, things haven't gone well for my eyewear. The first thing that happened was losing one of my favorite pairs of Oakleys during the first week of training. It was partly my own fault for forgetting to take them home with me at night but they were in a very specific spot behind the bar and not anyone can just go back there. Oh well.

Later, I lose one of my contact lenses in a freak incident when I get to work. I walk in, wipe the sweat from my brow, and take off my sunglasses. When I blink I feel the left lens pop out and hit the floor. I spent a good half hour on my knees trying to find them.

If you're wondering how that could happen, I wear rigid gas permeable contacts; they tend to move around somewhat in the eye and if you blink while your eye is at a certain angle, they can pop out.

But I've never lost a pair before. Yes they've popped out many times in some very inopportune places (playing tennis or football, driving down I-5 in 6:00 traffic, in the kitchen while I'm cooking with the stove at full blast) but I've always recovered them. Not this time.

Luckily, I had a back up pair of soft lenses that used for about a month. I went in to the optometrist to get a new pair (a little over $200 with the eye exam and a fresh pair of lenses) on Saturday. Sunday, I wake up with a sore throat and a case of Conjunctivitis a.k.a. Pink Eye. Just fucking great.

I buy some eye drops while grocery shopping but when I go to pick up my new lenses this afternoon, the optometrist notices my eye and makes me sit for a $75 eye exam to confirm the obvious. At which point he writes out a prescription for a tiny bottle on antibiotic eye drops that cost another $99.

(Did I mention I don't have health insurance? Thank you Economic Stimulus Check.)

Needless to say, it's been a bit off for me lately.

Labels: eyes, oakleys, please just shoot me

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 6:48 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Cooking ::

Anyone who reads my blog knows I love to eat and from various posts you've probably figured out I love to cook. (If you love eating as much as I do and eat out all the time, you'd have to be rich or you'd go broke. I weigh over 200 pounds and that's not from eating out.) One of the cool quirks about working for restaurants is that you learn not just recipes, but how to match certain flavors.

(True story, of all the women I've dated - and there really hasn't that many - I've always been the better cook. Sad but true. I'm okay, but not great.) At my last job at Seafood Grille, I stole their recipe for Marsala sauce, which goes great with chicken, veal, or shrimp. I also made their shrimp scampi sauce, both of which I've made at home a few times. The Ex was very appreciative when I made these.

Now, while my cooking isn't so advanced that I can make some of the fancy stuff at Swanky Trendy Restaurant, learning their menu and the ingredients in the dishes inspired me to try and experiment. For example, we have fresh ceviché that's different each day of the week and I've made experimented with different sorts of ceviché (grouper, snapper, salmon, scallops) at home many times.

I'm not a good enough cook that I can replicate Swank's entrees but I'm decent enough that I don't worry about going hungry.

One recipe that I pulled out of my ass (not literally... that would be gross) is a cedar-planked salmon filet with an orange-rum reduction sauce that I whipped together. I like it enough to put it in my regular rotation and my bartender seemed intrigued enough to pester me for the recipe. I gave it to her, so I'll share it with you readers.

Salmon
1 pound salmon fillets (cut into two pieces)
1 cedar plank (large enough to hold two filets)
4 tablespoons Dijon mustard
4 tablespoons brown sugar
Kosher salt, coriander, freshly cracked black pepper

Orange-Rum Sauce
2 medium to large oranges
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
Splash of Worcestershire sauce
Fresh Pepper
Crushed red pepper
8 oz. light rum. (I used Bacardi)
4 pats of butter
1/4 cup heavy cream optional

(All measurements are estimates. I don't own measuring spoons or cups.)

First off, pour two ounces of the light rum. Mix with Cola, ice, and a lime wedge and enjoy the drink. If you have a bottle, repeat as needed.

Soak cedar plank in salted water for at least an hour. Overnight is good. Season the salmon with salt and pepper on both sides. (Don't be afraid of salt; salt is flavor.) Lay the salmon skin-side down on the cedar plank and spread the mustard over the top and sides. Sprinkle the brown sugar evenly over the mustard.

This is probably better over a charcoal grill but I don't have one, so I did mine in an oven. Preheat the oven to 350º. I cook about 15 minutes since I like my meat medium rare or less. Adjust per your preferences.

While the salmon is cooking, prepare the sauce. Squeeze the juice out of the oranges straight into a non-stick saucepan (remove the seeds, but leave some of pulp... that's flavor) over medium-low heat. Add the Dijon, Worcestershire (a teaspoon worth, I think), and the pepper (less if you can't handle heat... wimp). Whisk the sauce briskly and constantly until it reduces somewhat (again, I did this by "feel" so your mileage - especially if you have an electric stovetop - will vary) after which you turn the heat up to medium, dump the remaining 6 oz. rum into the saucepan. Let the rum catch fire (again, gas stoves help) and keep whisking until the fire dies down.

When the fire is gone, remove from heat, add the butter (cream optional) and whisk into the sauce until the butter is melted.

When the salmon is done, you can serve it one the cedar planks or move the filets to plates, depending on how much cleaning you like to do. Pour the orange-rum sauce over the salmon and serve immediately. Accompany with mashed potatoes or roasted spring veggies. Compliment it with a dry American Pale Ale: or an I.P.A. or if you prefer wines, an earthy New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc (California versions can be too heavy and oakey) or a robust Gewürztraminer.

Try it and report back to me about how much you loved it. Or if you have any ideas that might make it better I'm open to suggestions.

Labels: Beer, cooking, fish, food

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:22 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Dolphins ::

I never blogged about this before but, what the hell. Some of you might lose respect for me after I admit this... but I've always been a fan of Hootie and the Blowfish.

One of their early, very popular songs called "Only Wanna be with You" (which i can play and sing along to on guitar... shut up) has the lyrics "... I'm such a baby 'cause the Dolphins make me cry." For the longest time, I though these guys were environmentalists who were upset over dolphins dying in fishing nets or something.

It wasn't until I moved to Miami that I discovered that these guys, especially Hootie, are merely hardcore fans of football, specifically the Miami Dolphins.

That there, is the textbook example of something called "overthinking."

--

And as I plug the most American of all popular sports around the world, I bid you all a happy Fourth of July.

Labels: football, introspective, music, my life, thinking too much

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:03 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Flat ::

I've been contemplating buying a bike for a while. The only thing that's kept me is the rampant petty theft so prevalent in South Beach. Back when I was in art school, I knew one guy who went through three bikes, five bike seats, seven wheels and tires, two handlebars, and even a set of pedals. In one year.

But now that my job has a place for employees to store our bikes indoors, I'm less worried about it being stolen. I took the bus over to the Target since a couple of my co-workers also bought bikes there. Of course, since I was already there, I stopped by Five Guys to get my cheeseburger fix.

I'm not looking for anything fancy, just a decent bike that can haul my fat ass between work and home and not break apart. This way I don't break sweat while walking to work or spend money on a cab. I find a good one for only $90 and I also grab a sturdy-looking lock for $12. Considering my budget was $160 or so, I did all right. This was cool. My first set of wheels in five years. I'm going to enjoy this.

Then I tried to ride home.

I was okay until I hit the Macarthur causeway and discovered I'd be pedaling roughly three miles into the wind. I shouldn't have stopped running. That sucked. And then just before I make it across, there's a small "hill" I have to crest just before Alton Road. That really sucked.

I finally made it over the hump and got back on the beach... only to discover my rear tire was getting flat. I JUST bought the damn thing and I ALREADY have a flat? (God either hates me or he just needed a good laugh after a long week.)

This map shows you roughly my route (I went down Biscayne instead of the freeway, obviously. I forget my rocket boosters at home) from Target to where I discovered my flat tire. Fortunately, there's a gas station nearby and I had just enough air. I thought that maybe it was simply under inflated and I didn't notice until now.

I go home, take a quick shower because I'm drenched in sweat from the ride. When I'm ready to head to work, the tire is flat. So once again, I have to walk to work and once again, I arrive with my shirt sticking to my body from the sweat. It's a good thing I appreciate irony.

Labels: bike, five guys, frustration, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:31 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: High Sales ::

I mentioned in the last post about how my job security has been threatened over stupid shit just because the GM was on a power trip. That was about two or three weeks ago since the last incident where he told me, "you have potential but you've had more than enough time to prove yourself and you're hanging by a very thin rope." And the only reason for this conversation was because I walked through the kitchen with my hair down and the salad cook, who's a major drama queen, complained about getting hair in her food. I never actually went into her station; all I was doing was getting plates to use as marking trays.

Since then? I've done nothing different other than show up at work with a ponytail. But I went through a three day stretch where I sold almost a grand in wine bottles and suddenly, the GM is "proud" of me. Whatever. As long as I'm making regular contributions to his wine commission, I'm not on his shit-list. And if I'm not on his shit-list, Antonio treats me like gold.

This is the only place I've worked where I could have net sales of $3000 on a Saturday night but the managers bitch at me because I only sold two $70 bottles of Pinot Grigio. Forget the high sales, or the $600 worth of liquors (Mojitos, vodkas, and gin drinks are huge in Miami, especially on weekends, and the average price of a drink is $12), the specials, or wines by the glass; I only sold two bottles of wine because by luck of the draw, I get seated the people who'd rather get drunk on Belvedere, Bombay Sapphire, or Bacardi.

One case that got me off the shit-list was where I somehow talked a table into buying a $500 bottle of Cristal. Once the table left I grabbed the cork, walked up to the GM and said "hey [GM], I have something for you." "What's that?" I hand him the cork, "this is from the bottle of Cristal that I just sold." His face lights up and he replies, "really? Way to go my man." Later that night, he tells me "you're doing an excellent job. Keep this up and I'm going to train you to be a Captain and take charge of private parties." I simply smiled, nodded and said "thank you, sir" but I felt a need to wash my hands before I went home. This occurred just three days after my last reprimand.

Whatever, I'm off the shit-list, Jed speaks highly of me because I show up on time everyday, and Antonio likes me because my mellow personality usually means I don't cause any drama with customers. (A co-worker from Brooklyn, who's a service lifer, is in most respects a better waiter than me, but he has some New York attitude that doesn't sit well with a few of our customers. From my perspective, his problems are customers that can be best described as human garbage, but all management sees is an unhappy table, and their opinion is all that matters.) Jed's another lifer that's worked at more restaurants than I've eaten at, and despite his drug habit, he's exceedingly competent at work. He's been working here for five seasons and he's unofficially our senior waiter, so for him to have my back is no small thing.

While I appreciate Jed's support, every time the GM or Antonio says something complimentary during my check-out, I can't help but feel like I'm just an indigested corn in a pile of shit. We have competent servers here but the nature South Beach being what it is, truly professional servers are hard to find it seems some of the other guys have faults more glaring than mine. And for no other reason that I show up on time every day, I'm one of two waiters that don't have a drug habit, and I have the occasionally ability to upsell a customer from a bottle of Clos du Bois to a Rubicon.

Manager's favor aside, i still feel drained working here. I haven't had a day off since last Wednesday, and trying to manage the managers in addition to just doing my job takes its toll. As much as I hated the environment at my last job, I miss just being able to show up, do my job, and go home. I didn't have to worry about meeting some invisible quota for wine sales, the managers where idiots but at least they were oblivious to everything except irrelevant details, no one care if I showed up at work with my hair down.

Even though it's not my future (I keep telling myself that), I do take pride in doing my job well. But I shouldn't have to meet quotas or brown-nose management to know that.

Labels: rants, server stories, waiting, wines

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:12 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: Restless ::

Work has been taxing lately. I find myself getting irritated at things that I would normally brush off. I’ve snapped at co-others when even if they've erred, it's not my place to say so. I've fallen back into my old habit of waking up well into the afternoon not long before I have to be at work. After going steady for about two and a half months, I've stopped running... again. (I still manage to play tennis twice a week, including Saturday mornings at 10:30, which isn't as easy as it may seem since my co-workers and I usually have drinks after work on Friday nights and I seem favor whiskey over beer on weekends.)

It's several things: I've been working six nights a week every week since I got hired, and there's been a couple where I worked straight through. Conditions at work are often needlessly complicated. My co-workers and I get along great but we commiserate over drinks about what complete douchebags our managers are.

The GM, while competent, runs the floor like a communist dictator, micromanaging even insignificant details, freaking out over minutia, and pressuring the waiters into increasing our wine sales as if our lives depended on peddling an extra bottle of cabernet each night (not surprising since he's paid a wine commission). He's threatened to fire me so many times over stupid shit that has absolutely nothing to do with my performance as a waiter. They're empty threats and has more do to with him asserting his authority, but it's still annoyed me to the point that I've contemplated toilet-papering his office and his car. And while he's freaking out trying to find the culprit, I casually walk up, toss an empty roll at him and say, "here’s your reason to fire me. Oh by the way, go fuck yourself. I quit."

Antonio on the other hand, is a moron. He barely knows how to run the floor on a busy weekend, and his knowledge of the menu is pathetic. Not only did he not know what haricot vert is until I explained it to him, I overheard him explain to a customer that "Prime Black Angus" is the sauce we use on our tenderloin steak. (Thank God it wasn't my table since I would have flat out told the customers that he was wrong, making him look like an idiot... something he does nightly, whether he realizes it or not.) Every time a customer returns an item, he types it into the computer as "DINT LIKE." Now, I realize that English isn't his first language but he continues to do this despite the fact that several people have tactfully tried to explain to him that he’s spelling "didn't" wrong.

Everyone else talks even worse shit about those guys. Jed, who has worked at Swanky Trendy Restaurant for five years, knows the operation inside out, and is privy to and shares with us information that us mere peons normally wouldn't know. And I'd be lying if I wasn't a bit amused at Jed's drunken plotting to somehow get Antonio fired (amusing because if he ever stopped drinking and smoking pot, he might actually pull it off).

But this is temporary for me (of course I said that over two years ago when I started working at Seafood Grill and look where I am now) since I know for a fact that the owners plan on closing Swank to focus their efforts on a new, super fine dining steakhouse. A few want to make the transition. A few have grown weary of management and have already left or are planning their exits. I want no part of it. I'm just working my way towards leaving the business altogether.

Labels: career, introspective, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:55 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: That Really Sucked ::

A part of me just died.

There's always next year though. We have a solid foundation, the young players will have another year of experience under their belt, and... who are we kidding. I'm drinking myself into a stupor tonight.

Labels: anger, baseball, lakers, please just shoot me, sports

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:06 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: That Sucked ::

After suffering through mediocre seasons from my Dodgers and abject misery from my 49ers, my Lakers gave me some hope this season that I'll finally witness something that won't make bitter and depressed.

We started strong.

We made a ridiculously one-sided trade in the real, professional sports world that made every wonder how the hell we pulled that off. (If someone even attempted this in a Fantasy League it would be automatically rejected and cause profanity-laced diatribes on the message boards for weeks)

Kobe finally won his MVP.

The Lakers cruised through the playoffs into a finals bout with the Celtics that revitalized the historic feud that peaked and died in the 80s.

The Celtics won the first two games, which was okay because good teams are supposed to win their home games. The Lakers did so in Game 3. We were going to have a good series.

And then THIS happened.

Good thing I was working tonight because even though it was deader than the nerve endings on Briana Bank's vulva, it was less painful than watching this game. If I watched this at a sports bar, I'd have been kicked out for unruly behavior including - but not limited to - excessive shouting, breaking stuff, hurling glasses, and punching anyone wearing green. (And this is the kind of place where coke deals go down in the patio, so you have to really do some dumb shit to get booted.)

If I watched this at home, my TV, tennis racket, various glasses, and several empty bottles of beer would be broken (kinda like my will to live at this point) and the relatively new bottle of Jameson's (1.75) would be drained.

I'm only slightly exaggerating.

As it is now, I'm going to finish my (pint)glass of whisky and stop typing before I really write something I'll regret. If my Lakers lose this series, I'm going to punch myself in the stomach, slam my head against the stove while it's lit, and then hurl my body in front of a bus after I light it on fire. Then once my soul leaves my battered corpse, I'm going to reach out, grab that soul, pull it back down, rip off my charred arm and beat the soul to death with that arm.

If you think I'm being melodramatic, you need to know that we were up by TWENTY FOUR POINTS.

Labels: anger, basketball, drinking, lakers, please just shoot me, sports, threw up in my mouth, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:13 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Server Stories: Pothead ::

If there's one thing that every restaurant I've worked at in Miami has in common, it's that the majority of people who work there think I like to smoke. And I'm not talking cigarettes. (Or salmon.) People at my last job thought this, and people at my current job thought (think) this. Lou, the wasabi guy, is a major pothead and when he got settled into South Beach, asked me of all people, if I knew any connections to get some good weed.

"No" was my simple answer, to which his reply was something along the lines of "come on, don't hold out" and "I haven't gotten high since I moved." "I don't smoke that shit, dude." He came back with a very surprised "REALLY?"

Stuff like this happens every now and then. During a poker night at Lou's, a few of my buddies take a smoke break, and Lou decides to take a, um, smoke break. He passes his joint around and the cigarette smokers decline, and being content with my beer, also decline. One of them is surprised that I passed on a perfectly good joint, again thinking I was a major pothead.

The real story? I've tried it maybe five times my entire life, and I've been high only once. That one time was with a friend's glass bong that looked big enough to transport oil. He took the liberty of loading it up for me, after which I inhaled, held it, and proceeded to cough up my lung and part of my large intestine. Fifteen minutes later, I wanted to get up off the couch and get another beer, except I couldn't because my legs got up and went to the next room under their own power. Everything suddenly slooowwed doowwwn. Talking in complete sentences became difficult. I had revelations about life. I found the carpet incredibly fascinating.

He said your first high is usually your greatest. Oh okay. (Wait, you guys actually go to work like this?) I didn't care for it. It was kinda like being drunk (which I don't care for either... however I do enjoy a good buzz once in a while) but with a lot more numbness. I haven't done it since and that was over a year ago.

This misperception of me is more amusing than anything. I have similar stories from places I worked, people from school, and random people I meet in Miami. I was curious about why people would think this and these are some of the more popular reasons:

• I'm very laid-back and relaxed. It takes a lot to get my flustered or angry. And if we're trying to decide where to go drink or eat, my response is usually, "dude I'm okay with anything."

• I say "dude" a lot.

• The long hair. People think I'm a hippie. (Dude, that's like, so way off.)

• I'm always hungry.

• I know the significance of 4/20.

• I'm very caffiene-dependent and if I don't get my morning fix, I can sometimes be sluggish and absent-minded.

There a few other things as well but I think you get the point, dude.

Labels: drugs, dude, pot, server stories

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:33 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....

:: Weirdest Compliment Ever ::

I was hanging out The Abby the other night and ran into some friends I hadn't seen in a while. They already had a few by the time I got there so at least for them, conversation flowed easily while I just sat and listened, nodded, commented and laughed when appropriate. I had a long night at work and needed a moment to wind down.

After my first beer, I finally decided to let my hair down. Literally. (Work requires me to pull my hair back in a tight bun; a ponytail won't suffice since it's about two feet long.) One of the girls says "oh my gawd, I didn't know your hair was so long" and starts running her fingers through it. (If a decent looking chick wants touch me, I usually don't put up a fight.) "Can I braid your hair?"

I simply nod and turn my attention back to my buddy and talk baseball while watching SportsCenter. Meanwhile the girl is drunk and keeps losing her place while trying to give me something called a "fishbone braid." She gives up after a few minutes and sits back down and says this:

"Dan-E, if I ever get cancer and lose my hair I want you to donate yours so I can wear it."

We laughed. Did I mention she was drunk?

Labels: Abby, drunk, hair, unintentional comedy, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:21 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
.....