A Message to Liars and NFL Predictions

MY WORLD:

Sometimes when I get in the shower, after looking myself in the mirror, lifting my shoulders and saying “not bad”, I think that this lifting and not-dieting thing is actually working. This logic, a fantastic discovery according to my shower-brain, draws a correlation between thinking about your diet and weight gain: the more you think about what you’re eating, the more you gain from what you’re eating. A breakthrough, to put it mildly, in the weight-loss world. “If I just don’t think about gaining weight, but I do think about being healthy, then I shall be healthy.” My shower-brain is imaginative and optimistic and nice, and that’s what I want to be. I want to be my shower-brain.

Unfortunately, my after-shower-brain, has the personality of sandpaper, and the tact of a goddamn two-by-four to the back of the head. Now, was it my fault, that I tried putting on a t-shirt I KNEW wasn’t going to fit right after I got out of the shower and in front of my bedroom mirror? Or, was it my shower-brain’s fault for gently whispering “it’s working, Jimmy. All you have to do is believe!” as I rifled through the “dude, it’s been years since these fit right”-part of my shirt drawer. I like my shower-brain, so let’s just take it easy on SB. I believed! I put the pink shirt on (you can’t make fun of that color anymore cuz it’s offensive so shut up, asshole) and what I thought was still my shower-brain grunted, “look in the mirror.” Lo and behold, the tightness I was feeling around my midsection was NOT my silly imagination playing a classsssssic tummy goof on me “tehehehe, you’re not fat! Gotcha!” No. My mirror revealed a tire-like midsection, which caused my after-shower-brain, the one you see in italics throughout many Jimmyschair posts, to roar with the brand of mean-spirited laughter typically found in judging panels from early 2000s reality shows. “You’re fat. Now put on the bigger workout shirt, and leave.” But…but! “Those khakis you wore a few months back that you’re scared to try on again? Yeah, no chance. Goodbye. NEXT!”

That’s also exactly what having my student loans is like. (Did somebody say CURVEBALL?!?!?!). Most days I don’t dwell on the fact that there’s a big number that exists solely to hurt MY feelings. Be it on the scale or on the student loan website, which can be found by simply typing ThisWillReallyBumYouOut.com into the address bar on your web browser, there are numbers that exist to throw your shower-brain down a flight of metal-edged stairs (you just have to BELIEVE you’re going to land softly!)

I’ve been thinking a lot about my student loans, um, always (and also about your fat midsection, tell them about that again!) but especially since news of the forgiveness plan and end of the payment pause. A lot of people have politically-aligned opinions on this plan that, as my after-shower-brain would put it, piss me the fuck off. Fully embracing my after-shower-brain, I’d like to address the people against student loan forgiveness.

I don’t think I’m entitled to anything. Really. And honestly, I have so much student loan debt that this forgiveness plan really doesn’t help me much at all. This forgiveness plan is the equivalent of me sneezing before putting on the tiny pink shirt this morning (not tiny, just a medium) and thinking the resulting weight loss from that sneeze would help the fit of that teeny tiny baby shirt. A medium? My student loans shop in the “Wow, this big?” section of the Big and Tall store.

And it’s this weight that gives me the credibility to have a fucking opinion on this plan. A credibility, that I would gleefully shed myself of if ever offered, that is lacking from most of the people I have heard, seen and read sharing their opinions. If you’re not fat, don’t talk about how hard it is being fat! Instead of commenting on individual facebook posts or text message chains or writing in to some stupid news opinion douche, I’d like to say here that if you have an opinion on this forgiveness plan, without having any experience carrying any student loan debt, kindly grab a sock from the bottom of your laundry hamper, push it FAR down your throat, and choke on it.

Congratulations if you went to school 50-plus years ago when tuition was eight dollars, or if you had parents who worked hard enough to earn the kind of money that disqualifies loans from your equation, or if you didn’t go to school because it was too expensive and now find yourself in a job that pays you well enough to buy a computer that gives you the ability to write “not my problem” in the Facebook comment section. Sincerely, congratulations.

I know that a major part of your opposition is rooted in a desire for the people benefitting from this plan (me) to acknowledge the superiority of the people not benefitting from this plan (you). I wish I was one of you people. You people are in a better situation than I am, and I full-heartedly admit to being jealous of you. This is not an argument about who is better. You are. I admit that. My name is honesty. Have we met?

It appears not, unfortunately, as you continue to try sheathing this an argument behind the “well, I shouldn’t have to pay for your bad financial decision”-curtain. Hey Oz, we all know this is just about you not getting something that me and the rest of the regretful fatsos who believed a degree would lead them to your promised land are getting. You’re not getting something that others are, and you’re pissed. So can you at least stop lying about why you’re pissed? You’re not pissed about having to “foot the bill.” You’re fucking not, liar. This will be paid for by the federal government adding to a deficit, which you don’t understand but are pretending to online. Eventually, could our taxes be raised slightly? Maybe. Or, could it be paid for by…spending 17 trillion instead of 18 trillion dollars on the defense budget? Or, by maybe making Amazon pay more than zero dollars in taxes? Or, by the same way we paid for the bank bailouts, airline bailouts, auto bailouts, or whateverthefuck bailouts that came before that you had ZERO opinion about?

I know you’re the kind of person that loves saying “life isn’t fair.” So think about that for a second. Done? Great. Life also evolves and we should attempt to correct mistakes unearthed over time and help people that could really use it, right? What because you were hazed when you joined the Alpha Sigma Dickhead, every person that joins that frat for the rest of time should also have to eat shit and chug Smirnoff? There are young adults and aging parents who have been shaken down by the higher education system for DECADES that are finally getting to catch their breath. You’re screaming at people who are running from a burning building that is chasing them.

These are people that would not have been able to go to school without these predatory loans with obscene interest rates that enriched college administrators while graduate students taught undergraduate classes for pennies. When I was a graduate student at UCLA, I taught an undergraduate class. I was totally unqualified, leaned on watching film and television clips WAY TOO MUCH, and was paid like $100 per week. Those undergraduate students were paying upwards of $30,000 a year to take classes from a dope like me who would put on an episode of “Frasier” to eat up 30 of the 50 minute class. These universities robbed people blind and just because you didn’t see robbery in real-time doesn’t give you the right to blame the victims for not being more aware of their surroundings. (Pretty sure 18 year-old UCLA students probably knew you were too dumb to be teaching them, though.)

I, on the other hand, do have that right and do blame myself. I don’t deserve this forgiveness. I went to graduate school at 23 and took out an obscene amount of loans without properly evaluating how that would impact my life going forward. It’s a decision that I wrestle with on a daily basis because saying you regret going to school is something nobody wants to hear. But, I think I do regret it. And I wish that there was more education before “my education” about what carrying loans really means for your future. And I wish that I would’ve just read a bunch of books about screenwriting instead of being sucked into an unbelievable marketing campaign that made me believe that simply by attending UCLA, I would become a professional screenwriter. I learned a ton in Westwood, but it’s all about hard work. I know that now, and I should have known that then. But I got caught up in the power of “belief” (goddamn shower-brain) and ended up docusigning myself into an adulthood of playing financial catch-up.

The medium pink shirt is too tight for me to wear because I’ve been eating too many carbs and not doing enough cardio. I do not deserve this student loan forgiveness, and I regret making the decision to earn an MFA from UCLA.

Your turn.

OUR WORLD:

It’s a beautiful Friday and I just wrote a pretty angry “My World” section. So….(awkwardly putting your hands in your pockets and rocking back in forth)…what else is going on?

The NFL starts this weekend and I have some predictions I would like to share about the upcoming season:

We’re all going to be annoyed having to watch Thursday Night Football on Amazon Prime.
- The games usually suck, we know that now, so having to take the extra 9 seconds to find the Amazon app on our Smart TVs is going to really take our anger to the next level. (How did someone so lazy ever run a marathon? And, no, that was not a sly way of reminding people that you ran a marathon.)
- I ran a marathon.
The Packers are going to win the NFC and Aaron Rodgers is going to revel in a “Going to the Super Bowl means I was right about Covid”-season.
- He still wasn’t right about Covid, though.
Kyler Murray is going to win the MVP.
- How do you get paid and somehow become more motivated than before? Have the entire NFL world call you a lazy dummy and your lead receiver get suspended for 6 games. I don’t know what has happened to Kyler and the Cardinals late in the season the past two years, but I kinda think it’s just flukey. I love that he’ll be throwing to fellow former-Sooner Hollywood Brown, the Cardinals will surprise people in a weak NFC, and I think Kingsbury is…don’t say it…actually good at calling offense. The defense will suck and the Cardinals will lose in the first round of the playoffs, but Kyler’s going off this season.
The Bucs will not make the playoffs.
- This is all a bet on Tom Brady not being great this year. I think his off-season went like this–he retired with a secret plan to get to the Dolphins. When the Dolphins thing fell through, and Giselle then found out about the secret plan, she got pissed and left him. Solo Tom was then alone at home and said, “well, I guess I should just go play football then.” So he went back to the Bucs without really wanting to go back there, and now he’s a 45 year-old quarterback who only kinda’ wants to be there.
The Carolina Panthers will make the playoffs.
- Baker Mayfield is significantly better than Sam Darnold, and Christian McCaffery is the best dual-threat running back in the league. I like the players they have on defense, and they’re in a division with Marcus Mariota, Jameis Winston, and Tom “I guess I’ll play” Brady. Give me a pissed off Baker in a contract year.
This is the last year of the currently-constituted FOX pregame show
- Terry, Howie, and Jimmy just kinda suck now and this is the year FOX finally realizes that Terry Bradshaw isn’t funny, and Michael Strahan isn’t interesting. NFL pregame shows, in general, need a total makeover, and I think it starts after this year. Why not copy the “College Gameday” format and do the shows from tailgates at the biggest games of the week?

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The new Steve Carell show, “The Patient”, on FX.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

That new movie with The Rock. We all know it’s going to suck and we need to tell every teenager who’s thinking of buying a ticket not to because it will only encourage more sucky movies being made in the future.

JIMMY GAMBLES:

I actually forgot one last NFL prediction for this season….

The Bears will beat the 49ers on opening weekend.

Bears moneyline is currently +250.

K bye.

Donald Trump and I Have The Same Birthday (6/14/18)

MY WORLD:

It’s my birthday and if you have yet to wish me a happy birthday, please know that I am aware of it and putting my relationship with you under evaluation. While not a “birthday guy” it is a good excuse to do things that I normally wouldn’t do on a Thursday. This year? I’m thinking of eating a big fancy donut and maybe having a Coke at lunch. (A THRILL A MINUTE WITH THIS GUY!!!) The VP of Ops is taking me out to dinner tonight and is very excited about the present she got me. Unfortunately, The VP has cried on my birthday the past 3 years (not a joke) for reasons varying from “You think I’m a bad wife!” to “You weren’t THAT surprised!” Pairing that history with her excitement for this year’s present means I’m going to have to practice my “Oh my God, this is the best moment of my entire life!”-face for the rest of the day. Odds are that we make it 4 straight years that she has cried. If you have her number, try face timing with The VP around 9:18 tonight to see crocodile tears.

Before I get into a fun list that I felt like writing because IT’S MY GODDAMN BIRTHDAY! I had to touch on one thing that’s driving me nuts. Donald Trump has the same birthday as me. I repeat: Donald Fucking Trump has the same birthday as yours truly. If you’ve thought to yourself “Boy, he’s really ruining everything” lately, AT LEAST HE’S NOT RUINING THE ONE DAY A YEAR THAT’S ALL ABOUT YOU!

If you’re curious about my politics, here’s a hint: I hate our President with all of my heart. An oozing wound with working vocal chords who keeps leaking through his bandages only to tell those surrounding him that it’s not puss, but liquid gold. The fact that some people are mistaking this puss for currency is maddening. Instead of trying to convince the “It’s gold because he told us it is!”-crowd of their shortcomings, I would just like to take a moment to highlight some differences between myself and my birthday twin (god that makes me want to puke).

1) I work out.

2) Bill and Hilary Clinton didn’t come to my wedding.

3) My Dad was not arrested during a KKK rally on Memorial Day in 1927 for fighting ALONGSIDE klansmen. He wasn’t alive back then, guys!

4) I would rather starve than eat a filet of fish from McDonald’s.

5) I’ve never cheated on my wife with a porn star.

6) I think Robert DeNiro is awesome.

7) I have a jawline.

8) I own a dog who loves me.

9) I have not filed 6 of my businesses for Chapter 11 Bankruptcy and then bragged about my business acumen.

10) If my wife was going into surgery and spending multiple days in the hospital, I would not simply “visit” her and then wait for applause when I announced my “visit” on Twitter. I’d hold her hand on the gurney until the doctor told me “we’ll take it from here.” Quick test: if your significant other is going into surgery and you aren’t there with him/her, you’re a bad person.

To beat you over the head with the point of this exercise: supporting President GooGooGaGa is the same as advocating for the opposite of all of the statements above. HAVE FUN WITH THAT!

LET’S GET TO A FUN LIST NOW!

Last night I sat outside, had a few Brewbabies and went through Spotify looking for my 10 Favorite songs. Here’s what I’ve got in no particular order because that’s too hard and BIRTHDAY’S ARE DAYS WITHOUT HARD STUFF! I will warn you that this is not the official JimmyGoodTime’s playlist–actually, a lot of these songs are kinda darker. Let’s call this my “If this song comes on in the car, I’m not getting out until it’s over”-playlist.

*Yes, a lot of these videos have ads, but you can skip past them after 5 seconds so RELAX! I did my best to find cool live versions too. SEE HOW HARD I WORK FOR YOU PEOPLE?!?!

Death Cab for Cutie “Transatlanticism” If the drums at the end don’t give you the chills, you might be dead.

Dave Matthews Band “All Along The Watchtower” Like it more than the Hendrix version…YEAH, I SAID IT!

Kanye West “Through The Wire” I hate that I love his music but Old Kanye was really fucking awesome.

Interpol “Rest My Chemistry” I miss this band.

Queens of the Stone Age “In The Fade” Sneaky good song to run to.

Steve Winwood “Valerie” It’s not a joke how much I love this song. If I ever am in DIRE need of a smile, this song puts one on my big round face.

The Joy Formidable “The Greatest Light Is The Greatest Shade” Girls who sing lead for cool rock bands are, most definitely, the coolest humans on the planet.

Pearl Jam “Black” Unplugged Maybe the most intense acoustic performance of all-time? So jealous that The VP gets to share her bday with my #1 ManCrush

Minus The Bear “Pachuca Sunrise” Brought my brothers to a Minus The Bear concert and my youngest brother got us kicked out before the show even started. This is my favorite song of theirs.

Radiohead “I Might Be Wrong” Do you ever try to mimic the convulsion-like dance moves of Thom Yorke while alone and feel really cool while doing it? Yeah, me too.

Since it’s all about me today, I’m not giving you an “Our World”. OFF TO HAVE THAT DONUT!

K bye

Stripper Prank and “Isle of Dogs” Review (4/11/18)

MY WORLD:

Last week, I put this picture up on Instagram of an all-male Australian stripper group (we’re dancers, Jimmy! We dance!) named “Thunder from Down Under”.

Thunder-300x210

At first blush, this seems like your typical Australian stripper group promo photo (you know, just like all the rest that we all see in our normal everyday lives…guys?…hello?) However, upon closer examination (I’m not blushing! Stop! Omg guys! Stop!), one of these no-doubt WILDLY TALENTED ENTERTAINERS, the second one from the right to be exact, bears a striking resemblance to…

ME! THAT DUDE’S FACE LOOKS LIKE ME! I understand you not picking this up at first glance on account of his rather scrawny arms and the lack of photogenic charisma that I exude in every photo…but, the face DEF kinda’ looks like me. (Nobody make a joke about how my jawline is nowhere near as chiseled as his…I’M WORKING ON IT!)

Why am I choosing to talk about this now? I’m glad you asked; these pictures were sent to me early on in my relationship with The VP of Ops and are the focal point of today’s edition of “A Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable”. Let’s take a trip back to the fall of 2013.

The VP of Ops and I were about 4 months into THE GREATEST LOVE SHE WILL EVER KNOW! Actually, she had just recently accepted the fact that we were dating and I was her “boyfriend” after 3.5 months of getting mad at me anytime I referred to our “relationship” (This is real btw…for like 3+ months she refused to admit that we were in a relationship. Stressful? THAT’S GONNA BE A YES, DAWG!) Anyway, it was a Friday night and I was chillin’ wit’ my main bros (cool guy talk) at the apartment we shared. The VP was at a friend of hers and I was definitely not secretly worried that she was hanging out with work-friend Mike because I was ALWAYS secure in our relationship. Did I LOVE that work-friend Mike wore a gold chain and talked about all the women he had been with? Look, I’m not here to talk about the past (fuck work-friend Mike…)

So there I am, hanging with my good friend Angry Dave (because he gets angry and it’s kinda funny but kinda serious at the same time!) and definitely not stewing about The VP and work-friend Mike. Probably after our third beer of the early evening (cool guy stuff cont.) I got a text OUT OF THE BLUE from an old friend-girl. Her name is something like Meghan or CouldNeverGetOverJimmyAndHisInfectiousPersonality, I can’t remember; but she texted me a picture…THE picture. She was in the Las Vegas airport and noticed a picture of hot guys so, naturally, she gave it a closer look. Upon said inspection, she noticed that one of the strapping Aussies looked like me and HAD to text me about it.

I showed Angry Dave the texts and after a few laughs and chest bumps and jamo shots (cool. guy. stuff. overload.) Angry Dave came up with a FANTASTIC idea. “You should send picture to The VP and just not say anything!” [EXPLOSION SOUNDS] However, because hanging out with guy friends means that you always need to one-up the last one’s joke, I decided to go a little further…and try to convince The VP that the picture was part of my dark past that I had yet to have to courage to fully explain to her. Like giddy little giddy-babies, Angry Dave and I huddled around my cellular telephone device.

God, I wish I saved the following texts, but the first one I sent to The VP that night, was along the lines of “Hey…Can we talk? Something has been eating away at me…” It took her like 4 minutes to respond, probably because she LOVED playing text games, but she finally shot back:

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, there’s just something I’ve been embarrassed about telling you for a while.”

[after her customary 4 minute wait] “What is it?”

“It’s really not THAT bad, but please don’t laugh…” And then I sent the picture. First, of the whole group, and then of the close-up of AussieJimmy.

“No way.”

“It was when I was in L.A. and I only did it for a little while, but…yeah. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before, but I was embarrassed and I didn’t know how to bring it up. Just had to get it out.”

(WAIT)

“I’m so sorry.”

“Really…I’m so sorry. I really care about you and don’t want this to get in the way.”

And with that, I effectively ruined The VP’s Friday night. At this point, Angry Dave and I were howling laughing; like, the kind of laughing where we were running in place while re-reading the text exchange over and over and over again. The VP had gone dark. She was at her girlfriend’s place and, years later, she told me that her girlfriend was telling her that she had to break up with me. Evidently, dating a fake-Australian stripper was something that The VP’s reputation couldn’t withstand. The VP says she wasn’t crying, but was kinda’ close and very confused. She’ll tell you now that she thought it was “probably a joke,” but you don’t go dark on texts the way she did that night if you think it’s a prank.

I imagine she got the texts, started laughing and then showed her girlfriend. Once her girlfriend saw, and my subsequent “I’m so sorry” texts came through, she probably tried to force more laughter, but her friend noticed The VP’s eyes were welling up with tears. Her friend probably said something like “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay.” The VP then shook her head and wiped away her tears while saying “it’s so stupid, I don’t even know why I’m crying! I’m sure he’s joking. I’m sure he’s joking.” Then, she got the next couple “I’m so sorry texts” and probably started discussing realistic next steps with her friend. I’m POSITIVE she said “You’re right. I have to break up with him” during her text-blackout.

Now, I’m not going to lie (because I’m honest to my good good friends) there were times during this 45-minute text-blackout that I almost sent a “jk lol omg” text. We were an established relationship at this point, but she did possess about 97% of the power in this relationship, so this was a risky move. Angry Dave was a calming influence; telling me to “stay the course” every time he saw me get quiet and slowly raise my phone into proper text-message position. “Not yet!”-he would say. I adhered because it WAS funny and…he was bigger than me and I didn’t want him to get Angry (quick sidenote: Angry Dave now dates Mean Allie. It’s the most perfectly terrifying combination in the history of couples…and Mean Allie is gonna be SO MAD about her nickname that guess what kind of text I’ll get from her later today? A mean one.)

At about minute 46 of this standoff, I called The VP. She let it ring like 7 times because that’s what the moment called for, and then answered with a scared “Hey…” I told her that I was joking. Angry Dave was kinda’ annoyed that I didn’t let it last until the morning, but not full-on Angry, so I was safe. The VP laughed it off like she was never worried, but she was…oh, she most definitely was. Then she hung up and went back to hanging out with her girlfriend. And I went back to hanging out with Angry Dave, but only thinking about how work-friend Mike may be meeting up with The VP later WITH HIS STUPID FUCKING GOLD CHAIN AND GELLED-UP HAIR.

OUR WORLD:

Last night, The VP and I saw “Isle of Dogs”. We had wanted to see “A Quiet Place”, but it was sold out. Was I secretly relieved that “A Quiet Place” was sold-out because it looks scary and I don’t like scary movies? You better believe it buddy! Plus, “Isle of Dogs” had an awesome trailer and I liked the last Wes Anderson movie about the hipsters in the hotel. (Googling the actual name of the Hipster Hotel movie…) “The Grand Budapest Hotel”.

“Isle of Dogs” was the definition of cute, but nothing more. The animation visuals were interesting, but movies are all about story (film-school grad talk) and this story did not have enough surprises to hold my interest. The easiest test for whether you actually enjoy a movie is to go see one on a Tuesday night at 8PM. If you find yourself getting excited about going home to get to bed at any point during the movie, it’s not a great flick. About 40 minutes in to “Isle of Dogs” I was marinating in extended yawns and trying to remember where I left my sleep sweatpants.

It wasn’t bad, but you spend half the movie in your head trying to figure out what celeb is the voice of what dog. The laughs in the movie were never full-blown guttural laughs, but more soft chuckles. And, the twists were pretty expected and underwhelming. I know it was animated, but I figured that Wes Anderson wouldn’t make me feel like I was watching a kids movie (I’M A MAN!) Unfortunately, I kinda’ felt like I was watching a kids movie with a bunch of adults who settled on this movie only after finding out that “A Quiet Place” was sold out.

Best part of the experience? The trailer for this summer’s Mr. Roger’s documentary “Won’t You Be My Neighbor”. Loved this show as a kid and thought about how much better of a person I should be when watching this trailer. Can’t wait!

Worst part of the experience? The overwhelming fake butter smell coming from The VP’s DRENCHED bag of popcorn.

Best part of the movie? Ed Norton voicing a nerdy dog. How has he not been in a live-action fantastic movie lately? GET ON IT, HOLLYWOOD!

Worst part of the movie? A second act that dragged on about 12 minutes too long. Yawn-o-rama.

My official review? I’m going to give it 6.5 out of 10 Chairs. (If somebody knows how to insert chair graphics and wants to do it for me, let me know!)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I may have posted this before, but I don’t care. I can’t remember the last time I was more excited for a documentary. GIVE ME JUNE NOW!

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Sarah Huckabee Sanders and her “I’m never not annoyed with everything and everyone”-face. Ugh.

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:

I’m still basking in the glow of my big Masters win. I’m guessing I’ll get back into the gambling ring tomorrow night when I have a work event at a bar in front of TVs. Starting to think NBA playoffs and…am I the only one who things Milwaukee could upset the Sixers in round one? The Sixers are becoming the classic overhyped underdog team that will lose early.

(My account currently at $256.83)

K bye.

Restaurant Rules and Nightmares Pt.1

OUR WORLD:

I had a server nightmare last night (I think…I may not have because I super suck at remembering my dreams), but it got me thinking about back to my days working in restaurants. Probably because I hated working in restaurants, but there were like A BILLION things that customers did that annoyed me. Now that I’m just a Normal Joe who doesn’t work in restaurants anymore (aside from an occasional serving shift I have to beg my old boss for when my gambling losses become an ISSUE) I have noticed that there are like A BILLION things that restaurant workers do that annoy me. IT’S LIKE THE WHOLE UNIVERSE IS AGAINST ME!!! (maybe my favorite George Constanza line that my Dad and I throw back and forth at each other anytime any tiny thing annoys us.)

costanza

Having worked in restaurants and now….uh, not….I would like to help ALL OF US (we’re a community!) by spelling out “What Not To Do” for both customers AND restaurant workers. I will do the ones for customers today and the ones for restaurant workers tomorrow (Tease ’em like a pro, Jimmy!) My hope is that each side will begin to understand the other and we can rid the restaurant world of the passive aggressiveness and the “you’re not going to believe what table 7 just did” that currently plagues the world’s restaurant scene. Let’s start with the customers…

“WHAT NOT TO DO” FOR RESTAURANT CUSTOMERS

–When your server gets to your table, don’t play finger-drums on the table and ask “so whaddya’ got?”

Whether this place is busy or hasn’t had a customer since you were born, the server will immediately go into a silent, rage filled, forced smile while holding back EVERY SINGLE FIBER OF THEIR BEING from pointing at the menu and saying something along the lines of “READ, MOTHERFUCKER!” Nearing the end of my time as a server, I would give SUPER snarky responses when asked this question. I was lucky a customer never punched me for responding “that’s what menus are for”, but come on, that is an asinine and NOT FUNNY question. That’s the thing I never understood as a server; Someone would do the finger-drums/”whaddya’ got?” routine and look around their table like they’re expecting Richard Pryor-in-his-prime-laughs. What’s funny about basically asking a stranger to read for you? The amount of tired/lame/jesus-just-shut-the-fuck-up jokes that servers have to hear is insane, so do them a favor and keep this lame not-joke to yourself. Every living being in the history of the universe has something better to do than hear this routine.

-Don’t be the first or last customer of the day.

This one doesn’t make total logical sense, but I am writing this to help customers. Obviously, if there was NEVER a “first customer of the day,” there would be no customers and no money for the servers and the servers would all be evicted for not being able to pay rent and then have to live under bridges with VERMIN! That being said, every server hates their first and last customers of the day. I remember setting up in the morning, watching someone approach the doors right as the clock struck 11:30AM and saying to myself “Jesus, they have to get here THE SECOND we open?!?!” It’s an assholey thing to think and say, but all servers feel this way. It’s almost like, all servers don’t want to be serving, so if no one ever shows up they don’t have to face the harsh reality that they’re still working a job they don’t want to be working. (That’s DEFINITELY how I was/am/will always be.)

As far as being the last customer of the day, there is one caveat, it only applies to when being the last customer before the restaurant closes. If you’re a server’s last customer at the end of their lunch shift, they’ll really like you as long as you don’t linger when paying the bill. However, if you’re the person who walks in 8 minutes before closing and asks “are we too late?” everyone that works there hates you. They won’t be able to tell you that it’s too late because there’ll be one boss/owner who actually tries hard at their job, so they’ll probably force a smile and say something like “not too late…excuse me while I take a quick rest on the train tracks though!”

-Don’t eat your entire meal and then call a server over to offer “constructive criticism” about the dish.

This is a quick way to make your server feel bad. You said nothing throughout the entire meal, then want to tell them how disappointed you are when it’s too late for them to do anything? If your steak was “too salty”, then why did you eat it and lick your plate? Do you know how uncomfortable it is for a server to approach a chef about something being wrong with a dish? IT’S THE WORST! Now, if there’s like a nail in a hamburger, sure you can say something like “Hey Chef, maybe next time, don’t put nails in the hamburgers.” But, if a table has eaten EVERYTHING on the plate, uh…not going to the chef. “Hey Chef, they ate everything but wanted me to relay some constructive criticism to you because, even though they fuck up cooking boxed macaroni at home, they eat.” Not happening. If you have a legit issue with your food, bring it up EARLY. If you finish your plate, nobody cares about your “tips” on how to make it better.

-Don’t insinuate that you know the owner.

You’re not fooling anyone when you ask “is ‘Owner’s name’ here tonight?” We all know that you don’t actually care to say hi to the owner, but that you’re really just letting the staff know that you’ve met their boss before. Ugh, douche alert sirens BLARE when someone asks this. If the owner IS in the restaurant, and approaches YOU, then fine, you’re gonna get fantastic service for fear of pissing off a boss. The truth is, the only people that openly insinuate that they “know the owner” are assholes who tilt their head and give no-teeth smiles when they send back ANOTHER drink! Next time, instead of asking if the owner is there, just stand up on a table with a bullhorn and announce to the entire restaurant “I plan on being condescending to my server tonight!”

-Give Yelp! a rest.

Restaurant workers hate Yelp! the way you hate the “things to work on” section of your employee review. Imagine if that section was then put on a public website! Do servers/restaurants do things that they deserve to get shit on for? Of course, but most of the time, the people that write on Yelp! didn’t say anything when they were actually in the restaurant. Typically, they rile themselves up about what happened on the ride home (I can’t believe that server only gave me one extra lemon when I asked for extra lemonS! THE ‘S’ MEANS PLURAL YOU FUCKING SONOFABITCH!) and then decide that their imagination requires a public forum (Jimmy, that’s exactly what you’re doing right now with this blog…and now my brain hurts). The thing that stinks most about Yelp!, aside from having to type out the exclamation point every time I write ‘Yelp!’, is that most people take it as gospel. Sometimes, servers are just having a bad day and…just relax about it. When I started dating the VP of Ops my biggest issue with her was how much she relied on Yelp! when picking a restaurant. Now, she likes the pictures more than the reviews (reading is not her strong suit…What?!?! Have you seen her degree?!?! Me neither!!!) but it felt like she was validating every tattle tale who couldn’t wait to run home and type their Yelp! review. Also, real quick, a very good friend of mine once revealed to me that he was one of Yelp’s “Elite Reviewers” because he wrote so many reviews. He was bragging about all the perks that came from Yelp! for doing this: restaurant deals, free meals at new restaurants, etc. I haven’t looked at this “very good friend” the same since. In fact, I would like to officially reduce him from “very good friend” to “friend”. You know who you are.

MY WORLD:

Quick story about my worst day as a restaurant worker. I was managing (natural leader stuff) a mom-and-pop restaurant in the suburbs that would get REAL busy, especially in the summer because our outdoor section was dopeshow 10,000. This night, we were SLAMMED both inside and out, with a bunch of people waiting for a table to open up. Servers were sweating from having to hustle, the kitchen crew was sweating because it was hot in there and most of them were overweight, and I wasn’t sweating that much cuz I’m not a sweaty guy but…THIS NIGHT WAS A SWEAT!

In the middle of this very tense steamroom, when it’s all a blur of “sir, your table should be ready any minute” and “Sharon, can you scream at table 9 to get up?!?!”, an older gentlemen asked me where the bathroom was. Now, keep in mind that the inside of this restaurant was like 10 square feet. Tiny place with the kitchen obviously on one side so…the bathroom could ONLY be on the other side. I pointed him in the direction and he scurried away. He had a mean face…and I’m telling you that because it’s true and you need to know that before getting really sad.

Next thing I know, one of our servers flares her nostrils and points down at the ground in a panic. Another server said something like “is that a meatball?” and, oh dear god no, there was a big-meatball-sized shit on the ground. Old guy didn’t make it…(I know, you’re feeling bad for him right now and I understand that. Don’t get too sad yet, it evens out….) Being the manager, I had no choice. I wasn’t going to make the busboy making bullshit money do this…and the servers had already sprinted into the kitchen away from the meatball-poo. I flew to the back, got the broom and dust pan, swept the dumperoo up, sprinted back to the alley and threw ALL OF THAT OUT. Then whipped back inside, to spray and scrub human shit out of the carpet on my hands and knees. The smell was real, but there was no time to waste and making a big deal out of it would’ve freaked everyone out even more…so I acted like it wasn’t a big deal. It was.

As I scrubbed away on all fours like I was trying to cleanse every last carpet fiber that was bombed, the old man and his son stepped over me. They literally lifted their legs to step over me the way you step over your sleeping dog on the way to the couch. They then returned to their table outside to finish their meals LIKE NOTHING EVER HAPPENED. I get that old people accidents happen and aren’t funny, but as the son, wouldn’t you have gone in to say something like “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, how can I help?” to me? NO?!?! NOTHING?!?! AM I ON PLANET BULLSHIT!?!?!

The family literally said nothing to me and they came in and out of the restaurant a few more times. Thankfully, they didn’t leave any other presents for our carpet on these trips, but how do you walk past someone who just scrubbed up your grandpa’s shit without so much as a “fuck-I’m-embarassed” look? It was almost like this was par for the course for them. “Hey guys, here’s the plan for tonight: let’s go to dinner, order apps and drinks, ignore when Grandpa dumps in the middle of the busy restaurant, and then get dessert and go back to laughing!”

I used to smoke cigarettes in these days and I remember the cigarette I lit up after that shift was the most-deserved cig in my lifetime.

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Emma Gonzalez. I know this is out of left field and kinda’, maybe too political for the type of stuff I normally write, but Emma is all sorts of badass. I think it’s really easy to label High School students as dumb, because you were dumb in High School (I’m including me in this. I was very very dumb and very very afraid of everything in High School) but this badass is not dumb and not afraid. Or, if she is afraid, she’s tough enough to overcome that fear to say make super poignant points that require bravery to say. I am incredibly impressed by Emma and I really like telling people that.

Emma Gonzalez

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

This is how our sink looks every morning after The VP of Ops “brushes” her teeth. I legitimately don’t think she was ever taught how to properly apply toothpaste to her toothbrush.

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:

Didn’t gamble last night because I’m a strong man who has will power and gambling is not a problem for me so please stop asking me if I think I may “have a problem.” Thank you.

(My account currently at $102.61)

K bye.

My Perfect Political Commercial and Update on CarGate (3/20/18)

OUR WORLD:

Political commercials can kiss my ass. If I have to see one more fatass Gubernatorial candidate’s (more like GOOBERnatorial amirite?!?) shitty commercial interrupting my Monday night Bravo TV marathon, I’m going to LOSE IT! What are the producers of those commercials thinking? Let’s show our candidate fake smile, hold a clipboard and nod at strangers? “I do love a clipboard and a chubbo goin’ for a stroll”-VOTER X. Why not show the candidate accomplishing things that would actually impact your life in a positive way? “But Jimmy, I’m confused! What types of tasks could these commercials show?” That’s how this blog works! Were I put in charge of producing a candidates television commercial’s, I would simply film the candidate with my iPhone (to add realism!) doing the following:

*for the sake of this exercise, let’s name this candidate Oprah Winfrey BECAUSE I’M PROGRESSIVE!!!!

Reminding you that “you already have that” before you buy it again at the grocery store. How many times have you bought Spicy Brown Mustard in the past month? Every time you’ve gone grocery shopping? SAME-SIES! If you’re like me (and why wouldn’t you be? I’m NORMAL!) you probably go up and down the condiment and salad dressing aisles convincing yourself that you’re DEFINITELY out of spicy brown mustard and caesar dressing. But, to be sure, you’ll text your VP of Ops something along the lines of “we got ‘dis?” Then, because you’re smart, you will put your cell phone in your back pocket, forget you JUST sent that text, and buy your seventh bottle of spicy brown mustard. (No no, it IS a waste of money. You’re never gonna use it all. Seriously, never.) Now, imagine if when you went to grab that golden Gulden’s bottle, Oprah Winfrey leaned in (not too close, but…close enough) and said “you already have that.” Would this take a seemingly endless amount of refrigerator-research-and-memorization on Oprah’s part? Yes. BUT! If a candidate saved me not only the $4.79 at the grocery store, but the borderline-“should the cops be called?”-fury I feel when seeing I bought something I already had once I got home, they’d get my vote. Oprah “You Already Have That” Winfrey is a winner.

Sweeping up broken beer bottle shards right before someone walking their dog walks into it. Evidently, even though dumpsters have like 50 foot wide mouths, it’s IMPOSSIBLE for bars to not miss this opening when emptying their garbage cans at night. Are blind people in charge of all garbage can emptying around this fucking city? Wait, no they’d have to be blind and deaf to not see or hear the sound of GLASS SHATTERING ON PAVEMENT. Got it. Every morning when I take my sweet baby princess Belle for her AM dumparooski, we have to last-second dodge shards of glass lining EVERY GODDAMN ALLEY. If, just one morning, I saw Oprah Winfrey sweeping up these shards of glass only to dump them in the one window the bar accidentally left open, I would IMMEDIATELY vote for her. Candidate who saves my sweet baby princesses paw pads? That’s my candidate.

Standing in front of the biggest pothole on your way to work. This would be slightly dangerous for Oprah, but worth it nonetheless. Outside of burning alive, is there a worse feeling than the “ka-chunk” feeling of unexpectedly hitting a pothole in your car? (Fuck, did I pop my tire? Is the right side of my car now lower than the left? Is my axle split? Can an axle split? THAT SOUNDS LIKE A THING THAT HAPPENS! Just take me now God! TAKE ME NOW!) What if, however, instead of smashing into that crater of a pothole, you caught Oprah Winfrey out of the corner of your eye (you’re texting…it’s not okay, but we all do it. Driving’s boring, folks. Texting is fun. Fun > Boring. Not complicated.) Or maybe you just heard her yell “SWERVE!” Screeching sound, maybe you almost smash into her, maybe you actually do hit Oprah Winfrey with your car. But you DON’T hit that pothole. For her to really secure my vote, she would have to get up after I hit her, dust herself off and start running in place to show me that she was a-okay. (That way I wouldn’t feel guilty! Running in place? Don’t have to feel guilty for running her over. Thanks Oprah!) Saving me and my car from the “ka-chunk” pothole feeling? That’s my candidate.

Kicking smelly people out of your gym. As discussed in a previous blog, smelly people in gyms is a societal problem that has gone unaddressed for far too long. Imagine seeing Oprah Winfrey go up to people at your gym, make those raise their arms and then sniff them. If they stink, like if that sniff makes Oprah scrunch up her face, she has her massive bodyguard violently escort them out of the gym. This sounds like the beginning of my love story with Oprah. Who would be defending the stinko’s right to stay in the gym? Nobody, that’s who. NOBODY!

Reattaching the top of your plastic garbage can so you can use the foot-pressy-thing. It’s not complicated, but I’m never going to do it. Never. Is there a little foot-press-thingy that would pop the top up if you attached it correctly? Yes there is. Do you miss using it? Actually, kinda. That’s where Oprah comes in. Next time, you just place the top of your plastic garbage can on top of the garbage so you can get back to scrolling through Instagram on your couch, Oprah sneaks in your back entrance. Quietly, so as not to disturb your Instascrolling, Oprah then unfurls the part of garbage bag covering the part where the top clicks in. Click! Re-furl, and she’s out. Next thing you know, the foot-pressy-thing works again…until, you press it too hard and pop the top off again (which will probably be the first time you do it.) That initial excitement about getting to use the foot-prissy-thing again? That’s worth a vote my man.

These commercials, as I wrote, would be filmed on an iPhone because if they were shot using a fancy camera, it would look as if they were staged. These instances must look as real as possible, to make VOTER X actually think that “Oprah Winfrey might sneak in the back entrance of my apartment, memorize what’s in my refrigerator, and reattach the top to my shitty plastic garbage can.” I expect to be hired as a campaign manager any day now.

MY WORLD:

A quick follow-up on the whole situation I had with my car last week. (I think it was last week? Two weeks ago? Whatever. Not checking. Doesn’t matter. MOVING ON!) If you forget what happened, basically I got rear-ended by a guy who started crying when we got out to assess the damage. He didn’t have a license, was driving his girlfriend’s car without her permission and told me he would’ve gone to jail if I called the cops. Being the sucker that I am, I let him go but only after he PROMISED he’d pay for my damages (promises only matter to like 6 year olds). Thankfully, the woman whose car it was, Gail, actually DID follow through with me. She hooked me up with her insurance company and, after speaking with them a few times now, they’re going to send me a check to cover my damages! It’s a miracle.

Gail, ever the sweetheart, sent me the following text yesterday though…and this is where things have gotten interesting…is Gail kinda hitting on me? Am I kinda hitting on Gail?

Gail

(No, I still don’t know how to make that smaller. I’m sorry) So Gail dumped the dude who kinda-stole her car and smashed into me. Now keep in mind that I’m married (LOVE YOU VP!) and Gail is, minimum, 34 years older than me. But…like, maybe we’re meant to be with each other? She was very nice, has lived up to her promise to take care of my car (everyone knows I love a promise-keeper), and she basically alerts me that she is now single.

I know it’s been a while since I did the whole flirting thing, but this feels like that…right? Should the VP of Ops be nervous? I don’t know. Maybe Gail enjoys throwing her q-tips away and paying rent on time. Maybe The VP of Ops should consider this the next time she leaves the cap of the toothpaste off after brushing her teeth…Cuz it looks to me like little ole’ Jimmy has got himself ANOTHER OPTION!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Jeanne Ives is the worst and this commercial confirms that…

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:

Guys, I didn’t gamble yesterday. I’m kinda proud of myself and kinda sad that I missed out on some action (I LOVE ACTION!) The plan for tonight is to get dinner with my mom and not gamble again…but, if this restaurant has TVs…well, I’ll keep you posted. Thanks for all your support during these trying times.

(My account currently at $28.21)

K bye.P