:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

:: I got Beat by a Thirteen-Year Old ::

I played another round of tennis tonight. I usually get grouped with the advanced crowd, there's a few guys who are better than me, a few who are worse. Tonight, about halfway through a kid joins our group and is easily able to keep up. Florida is a hotbed of tennis talent, since the warm weather allows for year-round practice. Anna Kournikova lives here (though her record indicates she hasn't utilized the "practice" part much) and there are lot of ranked juniors who also practice at where I play.

The pro had us play King of the Court and this kid immediately had us on the ropes. And by "us," I mean some of the usual crowd that shows up at these clinics: late 20s, early 30s (and on other nights even older) guys who are B-Level players. We thought he was around eleven, so he wasn't hitting very hard, but he chased down every shot and returned everything deep with a metronome-like consistency. We've seen kids like this before but few ever played this well against grown ups so we thought maybe he was ranked Top-10. I was trying to go for a little too much so I beat myself more than anything but even on points where I though I had him, he managed to send it back. One regular who's a little better than me was putting up a good fight but he wasn't doing that much better.

Not only that, the runt started talking trash.

Us old guys started talking about humbling the little twerp, not on the court but by treating him like our little red-headed cousin: dumping the water cooler over his head, or maybe giving him a swirly. Ultimately, we decided to give him a wedgie but never got around to it, unfortunately.

Our on-court (and psychological) beating went on for a few more minutes. One of the guys found out he was thirteen, and when I asked, he said he was ranked 30th in the state of Florida age 14 and under. Okay, so he's not in the Top 10 and he's a teen. That didn't make me feel any better. I was still losing to a kid whose balls haven't even dropped yet.

And here I was starting to think my game was improving. Oh well. I could always take up bowling.

Labels: anger, I'm getting old, tennis

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:11 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: More Drugs ::

It's not exactly a secret within the service industry that a good number of its employees do drugs regularly. And from what I've heard, people who work in Miami take things to a new level. And it doesn't always involve this guy I used to work with. Stuff like that is mild compared to other stuff I've heard and seen.

Remember the post about Jed? Virtually everyone knows that he's a cokehead (and a drunk, many of his stories involve drunkenness and/or hard drugs) and it's not like he tries hard to hide it either, as he often beings stories with "I was snorting some coke one night..." or "I was smoking a joint..."

Last week while he was managing I was chatting with the hostess (not The Hostess, just the hostess that works here) just before closing. Jed approaches me and asks quietly, "Dan-E, quick yes or no: do you have $40 I can borrow until tomorrow?" I do a quick mental inventory: I have $7 in my wallet and I all my customers paid with credit cards. No. "Okay thanks."

Two days later, it's again almost closing. I drop off some empty glasses in the kitchen and as I walk back to my tables, Jed comes up behind me. "Hey Dan-E, do you have a dollar bill I can borrow?" Not one dollar. A dollar bill. "Let me check." I grab my wallet and open it up. I have four singles. I hand one over and his face lights up. "Thanks, brother." "Any time. Just... I don't need to know what you're going to do with it." He laughs and walks off.

Two days ago, the GM tells us during pre-shift how he found a straw upstairs and Antonio found an empty baggy somewhere else on the floor. I was upstairs doing my paperwork when he found the straw under the napkins. I knew right when he picked it up what it was. There's drink straws and there's those skinny cocktail straws. This thing was cut down to about the size of an average pinky. I guess my reputation as a clean-cut guy reached the higher-ups since he never once questioned me. I wasn't there when the baggy was found.

The GM went into this spiel about "what you do at your time is your business but here at work..." but I tuned out and started trying to figure out whom it might be. Jed was too obvious. There were a few others but I wasn't sure. Either way, I found the whole thing incredibly amusing. I wasn't the only one since the moment the managers got out of earshot we started joking about it. "Didn't Jed have the night off?" Hey Todd, stop leaving your shit all over the floor." I chimed in, "next time one of you guys drop a bag, make sure you leave something, alright?" Everyone laughs. "You know the only reason they're mad is because you're not sharing and they probably needed a bump."

It was funny. Not so much that I'm hilarious or anything but because that last sentence just might be true.

Labels: drugs, server stories, unintentional comedy

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:11 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: Easy Money ::

We were sitting around eating lunch before work started. A few of the guys had sushi delivered. I ate a late lunch so I just had a seaweed salad. One of the busboys walked by and one Lou ask him, "hey, wanna make $20?"

"Yeah man, how?"

"Eat this ball of wasabi."

"Oh hell no man. Tú loco en la cabeza, cabrón."

I looked over. Lou doesn't like anything spicy, and he left his little ball of wasabi intact. I, on the other hand, love spicy food (although wasabi isn't your traditional type of "spicy").

"Hey Lou. I'll do it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, got the twenty dollars?"

"Naw man, you like spicy shit. You gotta eat two."

He reached into his other empty tray and grabbed the other mound of wasabi and made a ball almost the size of a quarter. He thought I'd back down. He clearly doesn't know me that well.

"That's nothing. Got the money?"

"It's right here."

"Okay then."

I grab the ball of wasabi and pop it in my mouth and start chewing. It was okay for a moment and all of a sudden... *COUGH* *COUGH* *sniff* Oh man this royally sucks.

My eyes started to water and my sinuses opened up to the point where I could actually see the inside of my nostrils. Lucky for me, I ate it quickly so the worst of it lasted only about 2-3 seconds. I swallow it, open my mouth and stick my tongue out like I'm on "Fear Factor."

"Damn dude, you're a crazy motherfucker." He hands me two tens and high fives me. "You are fucking crazy. I love that about you."

I smile and shake it off. "I've eaten weirder stuff than this."

Then again, he's fairly new so there's no way he could have known that.

Labels: food, I'm an idiot, server stories, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:55 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Getting Back out there ::

I played tennis for the first time since my hospital visit. It helped that the weather was nice and chilly (for MIami) at 70 degrees so I didn't have to worry about overheating. I still drank plenty of water but I took a some Gatorade with me as well (doctor's orders... it's too bad she didn't tell me to eat more steak).

My timing was a little off but I played decently enough, and the best thing I can say is that I didn't once worry about getting enough water or drinking too much since all my plumbing has been working fine. I probably would have played as early as last week except I didn't have the night off, despite the doctor telling me to avoid strenuous exercise for at least a week. (But I'm stupid like that.)

I started running again a few days ago but for whatever reason, I can't seem to get going. I tried again this morning and drank a large can of Monster to get a boost but my session, like all of my relationships, was rather unsatisfying. I can't complain too much though, at least I'm back to normal.

Labels: exercise, running, tennis

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:14 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Hospital ::

Thanks to the well wishers who were nice enough to leave comments in the last post. That was very kind of you. The rest of you readers can eat my ass. Just kidding. This was the first in my adult life I had to go to the hospital as a patient and can I tell you? It SUCKED.

The short version is that my stay was caused by hyponatremia. It's a case of severe electrolyte imbalance from low sodium levels in the body. (Read more about it here and here). In my case, it started after a round of tennis Saturday morning. I usually chug some water beforehand since I naturally sweat a lot. But I had some diarrhea beforehand from eating ceviche the night before and didn't compensate for it. I played my usual time, it wasn't any warmer or more humid than before, but I felt a little lightheaded once I got home. I didn't drink my usual amount of water but I refilled my water bottle twice while playing, which I thought would be plenty.

Once I got home, I chugged a couple more glasses of water before stretching out my kinks. Then the cramps started. It started in my legs, moved up to my back, then my abdomen, and even my toes. I was still feeling light headed. I drank another glass of water. I made my way to the restroom to pee but I noticed the volume was inconsistent with my intake, and what little came out was this putrid yellow color. Heat exhaustion? Maybe.

I read a lot of sports articles so I'm familiar with the symptoms of heat exhaustion. I also read about hyponatremia but it never crossed my mind since the articles I read usually related to endurance athletes (marathoners, triathletes). I drank more water and stood under a cold shower for a while. (I should point out that my glass is a little larger than your average water glass.)

Didn't help much. I became dizzy, my breathing was shallow, and my hands were cold. My hands are almost never cold. On top of that I felt nauseous. As stupid as it may sound, that was my first indication that something might be really wrong since I have a Seinfeld-like streak of never vomiting .

I got home before one and now it's almost four. I have to be at work in an hour and I can't even stand up without feeling faint. I somehow manage to call work and tell Antonio that I'm not sure if I can make it. He knows my track record in my short time there so for me to call in sick, he knows something's up. He tells me to stay home and get better.

When I tried to walk to the fridge to get more water, my legs gave out. My nausea built up to the point where I had to throw up. I somehow make it to the bathroom and I vomit almost nothing but water. No blood, fortunately but I'm actually somewhat upset that I broke my streak. I still had my phone so I dialed 911 while wondering why the ceiling was spinning faster than the ceiling fan. The paramedics show up, and I try to explain to them what happened in as much detail as possible.

I barely remember the ride to the hospital. I kinda remember being handed a clipboard in the waiting room, but my vision was blurry and my hands were so weak I couldn't write anything. I vaguely remember laying on a gurney with the doctors asking me what happened, asking my name, the date, and if I knew where I was (earth!). I distinctly remember trying to explain but I just couldn't find the words. I can only imagine how incoherent I must have seemed. "Played tennis... dehydrated... cramps... diarrhea... dizzy..."

I woke up a few hours later and saw blurry silhouettes of people looking down at me. Once I gathered my senses, I noticed I had an oxygen tube in my nose, a bandage inside my left elbow, and an I.V. drip on my right hand. I had these sticky things on my chest with wires attached, and those wired led to a heart monitor. I wasn’t flatlined, which I took as a good sign. I finally saw these people looking down at me and half-expected a large black man to lean over and say "hello Neo." I pass out again.

A little later, I wake up again, feeling a little closer to normal. I stay awake, and I realize I have this massive urge to pee. I try to get up, and I vaguely hear a lady say "not again" and walk over to my bed. "Sir, please don't try to more around. You have to stay in bed." My first coherent words of the night were, "dude, I have to piss." She hands me a jar. You're fucking kidding me right? Oh this is gonna suck. I do this a few more times during the night, which apparently shows the doctors I'm healthy enough to remove from the ER and into an intensive care room.

On the way up a nurse tells me exactly what happened. It's then he mentions hyponatremia. Really. I thought maybe my heat exhaustion advanced to a heat stroke, but I got fired from a restaurant despite being the only one there who didn't do drugs, so what the hell do I know. I ask what would have happened if I didn't call 911. "You might have suffered from brain damage, maybe fallen into a coma..." Oh, good to know.

Basically, I lost a lot of salt and fluids from all the sweating and didn't replace the salt. I overdid it in replacing the fluids, throwing my electrolyte balance completely out of whack.

They wheel my to my room, complete with a TV and a brand new urine jug. Great. I look at the clock. It's after 3am.

I end up staying all of Sunday and Monday, despite my constant pleas to leave. I felt fine, I wasn't suffering any ill effects, and I was getting sick of having my blood drawn (eight times! EIGHT! My left elbow looks worse than a heroine addicts'). The reason they kept me so long was to make sure my CPK levels returned to normal. I think one of the nurses told me when I arrived, my CPK levels were around 3000, and normally, healthy levels are... umm... considerably less (somewhere in the low hundreds if I remember correctly and a lot of my recollection is a little hazy).

During my stay, I have to pee into a jug, endure having my blood drawn repeatedly, and deal with limited mobility thanks to being hooked up to an I.V. the whole time. (It was a 9% sodium solution in case you're curious. You probably should know these things.) I don't sleep well. I fight boredom. I have bizarre dreams I think too much (never a good thing). The food is bad. I hate this place.

But I keep telling myself that it beats brain damage or death.

I finally get released Tuesday afternoon. I'm relieved more than anything. The nurse tells me that while my CPK levels aren't quite back to normal, they've dropped fast enough that I'm safe as long as I follow a few precautions. She tells me avoid sports for a while, and to drink lots of Gatorade over the next few days.

It's about one when I get home. Mike looks hungry. Rick-E is nowhere to be seen. I figure he's sleeping under my sheets again. I take a nice cool shower and get ready for work. I walk into my closet for some fresh clothes and see my cat sitting on top of the shelf like he's Simba on Pride Rock. How the hell did he get up there? I look down and see the pile of clothes and hangers strew about the floor. That's how. I wanna be mad I'm more impressed than anything, kinda like Ron Burgundy when his dog pooped in the fridge but at a whole wheel of cheese.

There's been a lot going through my mind those few days in the hospital and afterwards, and I'll probably blog about it later. But I'm happy to still be here. But I never want to go through that again.

Labels: exercise, hospital, still here, tennis, wtf

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 4:47 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Still Here ::

I got out of the hospital this afternoon after a three-day stay. Nothing too serious and I'll write more about it later but I need some sleep now. I'm just happy to still be here. More later.

Labels: still here

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:01 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: April Fool's ::

I'm not a big prankster (though I do like a good Pranqster) so April Fool's is usually just another day. I get called into work to cover a no-show and I arrive to see Antonio still kinda on edge from last night.

Short version: Mondays are usually dead and there were only five waiters, three bussers, and one bartender scheduled. No hostess and no barback. It would have been okay but our reservation computer went from twelve reservations to seventy-nine and one waiter called in sick. I arrive to hear Jed yelling into his cell phone, "I know I'm managing right now but I'm still just a fucking waiter and it's not my job to bail out this fucking restaurant every time someone fucks up!... Look, there are seventy nine reservations and I only have (looks around) four of my five waiters here right now... no, this is not how you run a fucking restaurant!!!..." He goes on and on. He's high-strung as it is - probably from all the coke - but this is new.

Jed was supposed to manage but he changes into his waiter uniform. It's a disaster for many of us. The guys handling the private parties are okay until they're forced to take other tables. Others waiters are trying to juggle more tables than they're accustomed to. I'm actually doing okay since all my tables were friendly but at one point, I have a two tables in the patio, two inside on either side of the bar, and I'm still trying to help out Jed with his 18-top private party before he loses it stabs someone with a steak knife. I'm sweating hard trying to cover a lot of ground. Bussers are overtaxed. The lone bartender is bombarded with orders. Cora has to run the service bar on top of serving bar customers. She has no barback to help her get bottles of wine from the cellar. (And half of her staff got fired over the weekend.) Antonio is trying to manage, seat customers, and once in a while, grab wine from the cellar.

Drinks take a while. Food comes out late. Some customers are very unhappy. I'm trying to make jokes but no one is laughing.

The night ends, everyone is frazzled. But we close early and everyone relaxes after a while. I'm one of the last to leave and I'm allowed a shift drink. Cora pours me a large shot of bourbon and I sip it while doing my sidework.

Back to the story. April Fool's is my day off but I get called to fill in. Our hostess is there organizing the menus and I give her a big hug and sarcastically say "oh my gawd we have a hostess! Hey Antonio! Don't let her leave. Give her whatever she wants, okay?" Acouple of guys from last night hear this and laugh but Antonio just waves me off and says "alright, alright. No more jokes about last night. Geezus."

Cora sees this also and says to me later that we really need to pull a prank on him. We discuss ideas, and include Jean, one of the older waiters. He's been there for three years so if he's in on it it'll be that much better. Fight breaking out in the patio? Wouldn't fall for it. Sudden reservation for a party of 100? Nope. The stove and ovens are broken? The chef is a humorless prick and would never play along. What if one of the staff gets sick? Hmm. Maybe.

We get Dave, another waiter, to lie down in the hallway like he hit his head. I grab some ketchup from the kitchen and apply it under his nose and around his mouth to simulate blood. Jean runs to grab Antonio and brings him over. I'm kneeled over Dave with my hand under his head and I lean in like I'm checking to see if he's breathing. Antonio arrives. "Oh no no no what the fuck happened?

"I don't know man, I heard something in the hallway and I check it out and he's lying in the hallway bleeding!" It was masterful.

The other waiters gather around, in on the joke, and act concerned. "What happened?" "Is he okay?" "OH MY GAWD IS THAT BLOOD?"

He reaches for his cell phone and flips it open to dial 911. Jean then tells him, "oh and one other thing... April Fools!!!" Everyone starts laughing. Dave lifts his head and points and laughs. Antonio is PISSED.

"I'm trying to do some fucking inventory and you guys are doing this shit? What the fuck?! You're all fired!" And he storms off.

Needless to say, we all still have jobs and once he's done with liquor inventory, he's back to his normal, pre-Monday self. Everyone else has fun with it the rest of the night.

Labels: humor, new job, server stories, waiting

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:24 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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