Car People and Tight Shorts (6/6/18)

MY WORLD:

A few years back, The VP of Ops and I got in a big fight about me being wrong and not admitting it and then getting madder at her for pointing that out and it turned into a real THING. Mind you, our fights usually consist of me being in some sort of mood (Shut up to all the people saying “such a Gemini”-in their head rn) or The VP just absolutely refusing to admit when she may have been wrong. It’s the same routine most times where we’ll get mad, kinda snap without yelling, make exchange some cutting remarks in the guise of “being funny”, give each other the silent treatment for a few hours and then gently start to make gentler jokes about the fight as we wait for the other one to apologize first (spoiler alert: IT’S ALWAYS ME BECAUSE GAH FUHBIH SHE EVER ADMITS THAT SHE WAS WRONG!) Anyway, this particular fight a few years back, was ratcheted up a few notches because it happened later in the evening after we had entered HAMMEREDVILLE, USA. You know those drunk fights where halfway through you catch yourself in a sober flash thinking “wait, why am I mad? Uh oh…I have no idea…DOESN’T MATTER, KEEP GOING!”? It was one of those. This night, however, my power move wasn’t just a silent treatment, but it was to retreat to the only place I can truly be myself: my car. (Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to drive anywhere. The plan was to sleep in my car…then I realized the backseat was supes uncomfy so I waited another 11 minutes before slithering back into our apartment. Uh….yeah, I think she got the point!)

We’re different people in our cars, right? Maybe I’m saying that because I’m in mine a lot and I act like a borderline mental patient in mine, but where else are you alone in a soundproof box with windows? It’s as close as we’ll ever come to being invisible in public (hey inventors, get off your asses and prove me wrong!) and I don’t know about you guys, but I relish this pseudo-invisibility. WHO’S WITH ME? Here are some of my classic “I can do this because I’m alone in a soundproof box”-moves:

-Front-seat Dancing: Singing is obvious and I can be one basic bitch so, yeah, I sing too, but the seated dance moves I’ve developed are nothing short of…well, probably disappointing. BUT! While I’m doing them, my brain is flooded with “remember this move next time you’re being looked at on a dance floor!” (Can someone also have a chair ready for me?) If you’re curious about what these moves are (WE ARE! JIMMY! WE ARE!) close your eyes TIGHT and think rolling shoulders mixed with pointing fingers that SOMETIMES curl back into air drum routines. Mind you, these moves are more likely to come out on Thursdays and Fridays as JGT (Jimmy Good Times!!!) nears his weekend entrance. And the bands/musicians that bring these hotsex seated dance moves out? We’re talking CHVRCHES, Steve Winwood (JGT’S FAVORITE), and maybe some cool-guy “I’m a rapper when I’m alone in my car”-moves for Old Kanye. I will warn you, however, that if you play any of this music while in the car with me, you will not see these moves. They are strictly for Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy. I have made eye contact with random drivers mid-move, and I immediately stop and look up and away kinda’ like how Michael Cera did during the awkward moments in “Superbad”.

-The “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss: Middle fingers are so 1999, guys. When I get mad, and I’m either in front of or directly behind the car that made me mad, I toss my arm up like I’m flinging a frisbee through my sunroof. Here’s the thing though: there is no frisbee, and I have no sunroof. You just got hit with the Jimmyschair patented “I’m pissed” arm toss. And if you’re not feeling guilty for what you and your FUCKING car just did to me? Then I hope you rot in hell. Now I will say that this move is NOT restricted to Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy (let’s call Alone-In-The-Car-Jimmy; JimE cuz it’s edgy but still sounds like my name!) The VP was introduced to the “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss early on in our relaish (what hip lingo doesn’t Jimmy know?!?!) after some pisspants cut me off. I don’t remember her exact reaction, but it was along the lines of a dripping-sarcastic “wow, my hero!” I always use my right arm because it’s stronger (thus, more intimidating) and there are no less than 4 tosses per day. JimE’s thinking? Chicago traffic is bad because there are too many guilt-free drivers not realizing the damage they’re causing by SWITCHING LANES WITHOUT A GODDAMN SIGNAL. The “I’m Pissed” Arm Toss slings guilt from my Chevy Equinox the way a Catholic Priest does during his sermon. Should we start calling my right arm Father Arm O’Tossahand?

-Talking to myself: The invention of speakerphone has provided the perfect cover for talking to yourself in the car. Even if you’re caught by a red-light neighbor, you can shoot the “I’m on the phone”-look (there’s a look for that? YEAH DUMMY!) Whether it’s preparing for an upcoming presentation; or running a “mock argument” that I’m anticipating later that day; or pretending that I’m being interviewed by a late-night talk show host, there is no shortage of my voice in my car. What’s weird about talking to yourself is that if you do in front of people, you’re obviously a LOON. BUT! I would also posit (nice word) that if you don’t do it while you’re alone, you are simply a different breed of LOON. Are there actually people who never talk to themselves? Is that the origin story of every socially awkward person? (Jimmy seems to really want to convince us that talking to yourself is not only not crazy, but normal. Hey Jimmy, PLEASE START TAKING PILLS PRESCRIBED BY A LICENSED PSYCHIATRIST!) This morning, for instance, I have about an hour-long commute, during which I plan to hold an interview where my current-self asks my future-self all about why it took so long for me (us?) to break into Hollywood’s writing scene. I can’t wait to give humble answers.

OUR WORLD:

Hopefully, you haven’t been like me lately and eating copious amounts of cheese dips. My summer bod is taking a hiatus that my shorts from last year were NOT prepared for. Therefore, I am entering a “I’m going to try to eat super healthy during the week, so I can pig out on weekends without having to buy all new summer clothes”-diet. If, unfortunately, you are like me and are looking to enter a similar shorts-saving campaign, here is what I have eaten and plan to eat for the rest of this week’s dinner. I give you, some healthy meals that don’t suck:

-Baked Chicken Wings: As long as you don’t coat them in flour or use butter in your buffalo sauce, I think we’re pretty gucci here. On its own, buffalo sauce ain’t that bad for you according to my brain when it looks at the nutritional info on the back of the Frank’s Buffalo Sauce bottle.

-Turkey Tacos: Lean turkey meat with taco seasoning is FINE, and I’m pretty sure if you use corn tortillas, it’s basically like eating corn…which is a vegetable and, therefore, GOOD FOR YOU. Skip the sour cream, but allow a little cheese. Atkins allows cheese and it’s kinda’ Atkins-y, so the cheese is okay.

-Skirt Steak with Chimichurri and Asparagus: Chimichurri is like limey pesto and errbody knows I love me some pesto. Skirt Steak is protein and protein is good because muscle guys talk about it a lot. The asparagus makes your pee smell weird which is a sign that you’re keeping your body on it’s toes with this new healthy-you. Watch out bod, things are a changing!

-Grilled Chicken and Broccoli: I’m not gonna lie, this is a boring-ass meal. However, you need to throw in one super healthy boring meal a week so you have something to truly brag about to your friends this weekend. Get ready to drop health-bombs on them like “it’s so nice not having to have another chicken and broccoli dish this week!” All your friends will get quiet and think to themselves “shit, what did he mean by another? I didn’t even have ONE chicken and broccoli meal this week!” That’s cuz you’re not as healthy as us, SUCKER!

And then Friday night comes and everything goes to hell. GOOD LUCK TO ME AND US AND EVERYONE WITH LAST YEAR’S SHORTS! (Or in my case, shorts I think I bought at least 6 years ago.)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When your dog starts barking at a sound they hear in your apartment building, but before you can yell at them to be quiet, they run over to “protect” you. There’s part of me that kinda’ hopes that one day someone bursts through the door and calls Belle’s bluff.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Shaving. I’m putting it off because it’s never NOT annoying. I feel bad that girls can’t grow leg beards and, like guys, just be like “it’s a new look I’m trying out.” Of course they can, but like…maybe don’t. Please.

WRITING ABOUT GAMBLING ON THE NBA FINALS IS BORING ME SO I’M GOING TO TAKE A BREAK FROM IT FOR A LITTLE BIT. PLEASE DON’T CRY LIKE “BACHELORETTE” LINCOLN ABOUT THIS.

K bye.

Restaurant Rules Pt. 2

OUR WORLD:

Hungover, poor and outrageously jealous of my friends with credit card points was me as a restaurant worker. Squeezing that hostility into t-shirts that were 1.5 sizes too small (had to show off the guns) and you had what those in the biz like to call a “problem”. Looking back at my time as a restaurant worker, it’s amazing there was never a choking incident involving me either as the aggressor or victim. You know what my favorite thing to do was? Tell customers “no”. I’m not even kidding. Like, if someone asked “do you have a tomato vodka pasta sauce?” I would just say “no,” and just let the waiting-for-an-alternative-suggestion-silence devour their whole world. I could feel them squirm waiting for me to break the silence, but THAT. WAS. NOT. COMING. It was a Buffalo Bill type tendency that makes me worry about what else I’m capable of…madness…yes, madness….WHAT A FUCKING DICK I WAS! (You still are Jimmy and everyone will find out and stop being friends with you and you’ll go crawling back to that restaurant begging to sweep the floors. From, The Woman you abandoned in awkward silence until her brain melted from the stress of it all, just because it felt good to respond “no” when she asked if you “had any gluten free homemade noodles?”)

These confessions will sound even more insane after I tell you that…I GOT PROMOTED MULTIPLE TIMES IN MULTIPLE RESTAURANTS!!! That’s right, the lunatic in the tiny tee who got off on disappointing customers without explanation MOVED. UP. THE LADDER. (This is the part where my head tells me that I should remind the readers that I’m a Sensei in the art of exaggeration but…I’m not really exaggerati-SHIT!) You want to know the real reason I’m telling you my deepest darkest restaurant secrets, though? A) Because I don’t work there anymore and like…{valley-girl voice} whatever! B) Because I wanted to establish a common ground with restaurant workers before I give my…—

“WHAT NOT TO DO” FOR RESTAURANT WORKERS

-When you see a customer trying to get your attention out of the corner of your eye, don’t pretend you didn’t see them and then act busier than you are.

Again, a go-to move for Tiny Tee Jimmy (The VP’s friend made fun of my small restaurant shirts when we started dating and I can never shake it now). This move is absolutely infuriating because WE KNOW YOU CAN SEE US! How many times have you sat at a cleared table waiting to get the check only to have your server walk past you a billion times pretending not to see your “excuse me, sir”-face? Or, how about the times you realize you don’t have a salt shaker on your table only after your food is dropped? Sure, the dish may not need salt, but you gotta dump some on it just for ritual’s sake and THE SERVER KEEPS IGNORING MY FINGER GUN/PINKY UP/AHEM-MISS? MOVE!!!! GODDAMNIT! I think servers do this because they’re procrastinators hoping that work will just disappear.

-Don’t shrug your shoulders when people ask you which dish is better.

Look, even if you don’t have a strong opinion either way, just lie to me and tell me that the pesto is WAY better than the alfredo (cuz it always is…lay off fatsos, alfredo is cream with salt.) I’ll never understand why some servers get awkwardly shy when asked to help a customer decide between two dishes. Some act like there are chickens and cows with guns waiting for them in the kitchen; “I heard you say the chicken picatta was better than the strip steak. So now I get to watch my wife get ripped from my arms and thrown onto a searing-hot pan,” said Chicken Charlie, as he turned his glock from Server Sally back unto himself, “I’m on my way sweetie….”

Unless you’re faced with cleaning widower chicken brains off your kitchen’s walls, maybe just give the customer a teeny tiny bit more confidence in their dinner order. Also, if you give no answer to a customer looking for an opinion, all you’re doing is creating an awkward silence at the table and, therefore, causing you to spend more time dealing with people you don’t really want to be dealing with in the first place. When I was a server, I would sometimes tell people I didn’t like items just to make them think I was trustworthy. They’d ask, “how’s the shrimp?” and I would tell them “it’s not my favorite” even though it sometimes was. Why? Because when you give someone an unexpectedly honest seeming answer, they IMMEDIATELY think they can trust you…(and now I feel like a sociopath for admitting I think that…)

-Don’t get defensive when your table asks why their food is taking longer than it should.

This is simple if you get ahead of the issue. You know if food is taking too long to come out. What is so hard about going up to a table and saying “hey guys, I’m sorry your food has been taking a while, but our kitchen is backed up and now I’m gonna tell you a lie about our computer system fucking things up because we all kinda’ hate technology.”? You immediately get in front of the awkward interaction that begins with a table asking “what is taking so long?” Even if it is your fault, blame it on some asshole in the kitchen that the table is never gonna meet. Odds are that the table will appreciate how forthright you just were and will feel bad that you have to deal with Donnie’s kitchen bullshit.

Or, you can get defensive when a guy asks you why the turkey sandwich and egg dish that he and his wife ordered is taking over 40 minutes (weird…the exact thing happened to The VP of Ops and I this past Sunday…) Then you’ll get a–dammit, you’ll still get a 15% tip because I felt guilty but you totally didn’t deserve even 15% and I want you (yeah you, the professional eye-roller) to know that I’m normally a 25% tipper. So, enjoy being 10% poorer than you should be (that’s how math works, jerk.)

-Don’t pour my drink into a glass right in front of me like I don’t know how to do it.

Does anyone enjoy watching a server approach your table, set down a glass, open your beer for you and then slowly, awkwardly, incorrectly pour it into said glass all while you just sit there like a fat, useless tub of lard? You probably look at your phone to cut the awkwardness, don’t you? I’ve taken to just telling them that I can do it to avoid the ensuing awkwardness. Let me say this; if you enjoy having a beer opened and poured for you while you do nothing, then your parents probably resent the person you have become.

Bring the beer and open it. Leave the pouring to me. I’M AN ADULT WHO HATES FEELING USELESS EVEN THOUGH I KINDA’ AM SOMETIMES BUT NOT WHEN IT COMES TO POURING DRINKS IN GLASSES!

–Don’t have Law & Order SVU on the TVs without the sound when the city you’re in has a team in the playoffs playing RIGHT NOW!

If you’re a Law & Order SVU-themed bar, then fine (I can hear The VP of Ops making borderline-sexual grunting noises at the thought of this). But, the only people watching TVs in bars are sports fans, so why tease them? I do think that hipster servers probably love watching sportos squirm as they pretend not to know how a television remote works and ask “wait, what channel did you say?” for the ninth time. Part of me respects such deviousness, but most of me is a sporto who JUST GIVE ME THE GODDAMN REMOTE!

MY WORLD:

My worst restaurant experience as a customer happened when I lived in Los Angeles (golden tan, killer bod, hot babes and blow wherever I went. You know? That Los Angeles). I was on a date with A REAL LIFE LADY (Pre-VP of Ops. This girl was more “VP of Not Being Able To Contribute To The Conversation”) My plan for the date was a little out there, dinner and a movie, but I’m a risk taker, guys. We got to dinner, ordered and began having very forced, stilted conversations that were not made better with my penchant for drinking super fast when I get nervous. I was nervous and…needed to get drunk so fast please be drunk now so I don’t have to deal with my feelings faster faster faster!!!!

Next thing I know, it’s like 45 minutes after we ordered our entrees and the food still isn’t there. Am I eight drinks deep? Yes, but there was no drink limit printed on the menu so looks like I’m not breaking any rules and you should shut up. Besides, Miss No-Conversation-Skills wasn’t interesting when I was sober, so what was I really missing?

Not wanting to waste our tickets for Russell Crowe and his “Am-I-Officially-Too-Fat-To-Be-A-Star”face in “Robin Hood”, I asked our server if our food was getting close. “I don’t know man,” was not the response I was hoping for, but it was the response I got. Even my drunk brain was like “whoa, that was rough.” The restaurant was DEAD so I knew the kitchen wasn’t backed up, but I didn’t wanna introduce Miss ZERO-PERSONALITY to Angry Jimmy on our first date. So I sat quiet, kinda bit the inside of my lip and prayed that, that dickhead server just gave me a reason…JUST GIMME A REASON!

Another 20 minutes and nothing. I hadn’t seen our server for a while so I went up to the host stand to ask for a manager. YEAH, I DID THAT. When the manager arrived I told him that we had waited for over an hour and blah blah blah we needed to go now. So he asked me to pay for our drinks…Lame move, Mr. Manager. Waiting over an hour to get no food and you want me to–okay, okay, we’re not getting angry. I repeat! We (as in me) are going to prove to Miss I-Already-Can’t-Wait-Till-This-Is-Over that WE are in control of our emotions even in the most adverse of conditions. Did I tell the manager that I didn’t appreciate the service that night? I did. Did he shake his head like a condescending bitch and apologize “if you feel that way”? He did. We are still in control of our emotions.

Then we left the restaurant to walk to the movie theater when I saw our server, back in the restaurant, making purposeful eye-contact with me and proceeding to wave at me as I left. It was one of those “go fuck yourself” waves and that’s when I politely told The VP of You’re About To Be Embarrassed By Me that I would be right back.

I re-entered the restaurant making a BEE-LINE for the kitchen where I saw the server giving me the “go fuck yourself” wave. Manager Douche Canoe and the bartender got in my way but not before I got to yell “come outside and say goodbye to me!” to my new server friend. It was a solid line and I am forever proud I got it out. The fact that such a cool line was lost in me cussing out the manager and bartender is something I wish not to rehash.

I used to legitimately wonder why that server was such a dick to me that night. Did he used to date the girl I was out with? Seemed unlikely that any other human would be duped into going out with such a DUD, so I’m gonna cross that off the list. Did I go to High School with him and he was offended I didn’t recognize him? Probably not because I was a total loner back then, but a real sweetheart who most people secretly felt bad for (right?) Maybe he was jealous that I was pulling off the two-earring look that he always dreamed of going for but never had the nerve to commit to? Probably. Or, it was just because he was a server who hated being reminded of the fact that he had to work when most people were on off-time. And now I totally understand and feel bad for trying to intimidate him. (I am also thankful that he did not come and say goodbye to me outside because that would have been scary!)

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Fat Russell Crowe in the middle of a walking work-out is a personal fave.

RUSSELL CROWE OUT IN LA

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you’re in the middle of watching an awesome YouTube video on your iPhone and, all of a sudden, the video stops because your phone has to warn you that you only have 20% battery life remaining. THANKS FOR RUINING THE MOOD, APPLE!

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Another day, another dollar not won. Starting to feel like I’m giving money away by NOT gambling. I will be alone in a Rockford, Illinois hotel tonight and that means one thing…gambling on random NBA games RIGHT before they start. No point in looking at the lines now.

(My account currently at $102.61)

K bye.