Table Manners

Over the last 10 days I have seen one person after another who I wanted to punch in the throat.  This entry is dedicated to all of you.

My boyfriend and I went to Threadgills a few nights ago.  It's home cookin' style restaurant.  It isn't fancy.  You go because you want heaping helpings of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and fried okra.  The food is consistantly good and most people can eat something there.  They are considerate of dietary needs.  The staff are pretty good.  It's a staple in my family.

Table Manner # 1:

If you're too country for Threadgills, you're too country. 

We were having a fine time when a server walked back to this table that was there before we were.  A discussion ensued about how they didn't know they were supposed to be seated by a host.  The server handled it well but my hackles raised when the woman took on an entitled attitude about it all.  They witnessed more than one table being seated by a hostess, mine included. They argued with the server.  They were loud and they threw something at me.

Table Manner # 2:

Don't throw things at other customers.

The first thing that came to mind is, get your ass back to the Waffle House.  

While I was in college the first time I worked at the Waffle House in Garland, TX.  It is what motivated me to run like hell from Dallas.  I was working with men and women I liked but who were in their thirties, making slightly more than minimum wage, driving beat up old cars that they drove into their gang-infested neighborhoods.  I worked the night shift because I was told I'd make more money. LIES.  

We had a full service all-you-can-eat.  I would actually serve up as many plates of greasy eggs, hash browns and waffles as the customers could shove into their drunken faces.  And if I was lucky for a table of four very hungry, very drunk, entitled assholes I would get $2. On a good night, after working 10 hours, I'd have $50 in tips. Even in 1993 that was pretty bad money.

I was molested by customers.  I developed a hellish case of plantar fasciatis. I couldn't keep up with my school work so school became expendable.  The people I worked with were strong, salt of the earth women, mostly who taught me how I was expected to work.  Their teaching methods were rather barbaric at times and they left a wound or two on my heart but every single one of them told me to grow up and get out of there.

I woke up one morning after a particularly painful break up and realized they were right. I would become one of those women if I stayed.  I moved to Austin a month later.  There was no Waffle House in Austin at the time so I was safe.  It wasn't my last food service gig and it certainly wasn't my last customer service gig, but the experience showed me a lot about how rude people can be.

A few days later my boyfriend and I went to Panera Bread.  One part delicious one part filled with yuppie scum who just stand in the middle of everything.  Panera Bread has a way of doing things.  Sometimes it's a bit confusing if you've never been there before but they will provide you with assistance.  Their staff were all lovely.

Table Manner # 3:

Do your best to follow the suggested instructions on how the restaurant manages traffic.

We were seated waiting for our food and there was this guy.  He was disgusting.  He was depositing his trash on other tables.  It didn't seem to bother him that on two separate occasions a member of their staff had to clean up after him.

Table Manner # 4:

No one should have to clean up after you.

When I was at the Waffle house I had to bus my tables and wash my dishes.  I had to wipe down the tables and do the standard clean up.  If your mess extends beyond your table, you have violated #4.  Do your best with your kids.  We understand kids can get messy, but it isn't the service's responsibility to sweep, mop and scrub a mess your child created.

Table Manner # 5:

Don't complicate things.  There are people waiting.

Yesterday was the final straw.  We went to Subway.  A family of five got in ahead of us.  I was about to climb over the counter I was so hungry.  We agreed to eat it in the store until we saw this family.  They did everything they could to slow the poor "sandwich artist" down.

Table Manner # 6:

If you can't afford to eat out, eat in.

The father announced they were to order their food in the cheapest manner possible.  All three children separately went to the bathroom so we had to wait for that.  We had to watch while they made two 12 - inch sandwiches into four 6 - inch sandwiches.  On the outside they seemed like normal, well mannered people, but on the inside they were trashy and cheap.

I told my boyfriend, "We're getting this to go."  I was not hungry enough to let any more people distract my dining experience.

My boyfriend leaned in and whispered to me, "Blog."

This is just as much about customer service as it is about being customers.  In all three restaurants the staff acted appropriately.  They acted as their employers would want them to act.  They made a good faith effort to make these people who were complicated, rude and entitled happy.  I would like to congratulate them on their good manners.

Just a few additions to the list and I will end my rant.

Table Manner # 7:

Always tip your server.  20% for good service, 15% for mediocre service and 10% for crappy service.  If they give you crappy service, speak to the manager but do not stiff your server.

Table Manner # 8:

Don't harass the wait staff over things outside their control.

Table Manner # 9:

Each table is money.  If you take up the table for longer than an hour when it's busy, tip accordingly.

And finally, Table Manner # 10:

Be patient.  There are violators of the list who are unfortunately ahead of you.

Moving on

This weekend I went and enjoyed a bit of nature.  No, really, there was actual pleasure and glee involved.

We went to this swimming hole in the middle-of-nowhere-Texas called Krause Springs.  I figured I was in a rental and it didn't matter how many miles I put on it.

I provided the swimmers with a less than graceful entrance.  I'm sure a few were amused.  My butt got torn up with some road rash where I slid over a less than smooth surface, but I still made it into the water with limited injury.

The water was 68 degrees Fahrenheit, so being flung into it abruptly was a huge shock to my system, but the job of adjusting to the water immediately was far better than the torture of inching my way in one slippery step at a time.

We stayed for a few hours and had a picnic lunch.  I got over my issues with things that live in the water except for a few times when my boyfriend teased me.  When something crawled over my foot I decided I'd had enough.  We ate, drank a beer that was oddly good and refreshing.  Shiner Ruby Red grapefruit beer is surprisingly good.  And that's coming from a non-beer-drinker.

When I got home I didn't see the truck with the guy who slashed up my car and only wondered briefly where he was.  Apparently he's gone now.  I haven't seen the truck since Saturday morning so I hope he was just here to visit.  Regrettably I won't be able to slather his truck with gay rights stickers but that's probably for the best.

I got my car back today and I'm happy to be back in it.  I got to drive a Volkswagen Beetle for 10 days and it was fun and cute and drove really well, but it wasn't my car.  I love my car.  It's not cute and doesn't handle as well, but it's mine.  Life is resuming some degree of normalcy.

Current State of Affairs

My car got keyed a few nights a go.  Actually someone took a knife to it and did $2,400 worth of damage.  5 panels have to be repainted and the glass on my hatchback has to be replaced. Someone thinks I'm scum.  He hates me and everything I represent.  I wonder if it's because I'm a liberal.  I wonder if he thinks I'm a lover of black men and homosexuals who kills babies in my spare time.  (Plug in a few racial slurs to derive what I believe he really said.)

On Facebook I left the following comment: 

To the person who keyed my car. FYI. I spent many hours helping to get President Obama reelected. I spent 60 hours the last 4 days of the campaign helping him win Florida. We won. Key that.

I got a lot of feedback from my friends.  I had to clarify this person does not represent all Republicans because he, I assume this is a man, is a vandal and a creep.  He may not even vote.  He's just too stupid to form a sophisticated opinion that doesn't include retaliation for free speech.

I parked next to a huge black truck with Oklahoma plates that night.  It had camo paint and a POW/MIA sticker on the back of it.  I joked with my mom that the truck was so big because he was compensating for something.  I don't know if it was him, but I'd never seen that truck before and the next morning this was done.  Now I see that truck in the parking lot and I don't quite know what to do.

I really don't want to start a fight with someone who drives a big truck with a POW/MIA sticker on it.  It's reasonable to conclude he has a gun.  If this person has moved to my complex then when I get my car back I have to wonder if it will just happen again.

We are moving in September but how many times does my car have to get slashed?  I feel like such a coward because there is nothing I can do to protect myself.  All I can do is hope he will do something for the office to tow him.  Retaliation would only cause this to happen again.

I admit it.  I'm afraid of wingnuts with guns and this guy has proven himself to be one.  He told me to shut up and I'm still a loudmouth online but I'm really concerned about what he'll do to my car.  I've never wanted to move more in my life than I do right now.

Indie Cred

Indie Cred is what my boyfriend refers to as the stuff that makes us cool.  We like independent entertainment.  We like to watch the movies at the arthouse theater.  We don't need to pay $100 for tickets to a concert when there is someone far more talented playing on East 6th street for $5 or free at Central Market.  We are open minded and therefore we have a high level of Indie Cred.

So I have to confess... For some reason I got the wild hair to watch the Twilight Saga.  There are spoilers.  If you still respect me enough to continue reading this you should know I have written the crux of the plot in the next paragraph.

For those of you who haven't read the books, it is about a vacant, nondescript teenage girl who has two beautiful and almost perfect men fall in love with her.  She has to choose between the beautiful and perfect Edward and the hulking hot-blooded man-flesh, Jacob.  She chooses Edward.

It took Stephanie Meyer 2,000 pages to tell the story.  Sure other stuff happens, but it's all centered around an awkward girl coming into her own with a vampire.

The reasons why this series of books sucks are:

1. It is written for teenage girls who want to feel like the main character.  I mean what girl doesn't want the choice of two incredibly hot men?  She claims to be tortured by it... NO.

2. It was written with Mormon values.  No one has sex before they're married.  In real life, she'd be doing both of them and asking for forgiveness if she got caught.  We were all in high school once and sure there were a few who hadn't had sex but by our senior year, those who could were fucking whenever they could regardless of the appropriateness.

3. This woman stretched out this stupidity for 4 books and made millions and millions of dollars.  I have to admit I actually read the books and paid for them.  I only realized with her 5th book, The Host, what a truly terrible writer she is.

So, having read the books and knowing how terrible the stories are I was compelled to watch all five movies.  I sat through them face-in-palm for a good bit of the time.  There wasn't even any guilty pleasure.  It was all bad.

When I confessed to my boyfriend I started with, "And you'll probably break up with me for this..."  He got alarmed because there I was in front of him and my best friend about to make a break-up worthy confession.  "I watched all 5 Twilight Saga movies."

As he sighed in relief my best friend announced she was going to break up with me.

So last night I started watching a Swedish murder mystery series I was into a few years ago.  There is one with subtitles and one done by the BBC that has a bit more glamour.  I told my boyfriend and he said it was Indie Cred First Aid.  I had to repair it.  So I'm prepared to watch Midnight's Children.  It's based on the book by Salman Rushdie.  It won the best Booker award of all time.  I even have the book but I think I can repair it with the movie.  If I don't feel cleansed I will find something else to purify my independent spirit.

Icelandic rambling

I discovered Sigur Ros because more than one person told me they sounded like another band I'm fond of, A Northern Chorus.  They are no longer with us.  I'm not sure why they broke up other than it's hard to have a band that has limited popularity in Canada.  I discovered them on Pandora years ago and bought up everything I could get.  So here is a good example of their work:

To be honest though, most of their work resembles this: 

Most of my friends like them.  But when one friend said, "They sound like a bland version of Sigur Ros," I had to check out Sigur Ros.  (Them's fightin' words...) I got my hands on their stuff and to be honest I hear a few similarities with some of their songs but they are two completely different bands.  Here is the song I think sounds most similar and it is also my favorite song of Sigur Ros'.

I heard Sigur Ros was going to be in town and I went on line and priced the tickets and was I said to myself, regrettably, no.  Then I swear the next day I was called to attend a focus group where I would be paid $175 cash to give my opinion about furniture stores.  That was dinner and a concert.


I told my friends I was going to see Sigur Ros and most of them gave me that look you give someone when they start speaking in tongues.  "Uh, they're an Icelandic band and I don't know what they're saying but they make a lot of pretty noises," was the best I could come up with.

If you've never heard them, they're hard to define in other terms. They have these beautiful songs that are equally powerful.  The song will be very complicated yet quiet and pretty and then all of a sudden they'll blow you away with this intense wall of sound.

Don't get them confused with shoegazers who were good for the wall of noise effect.  These guys know what they're doing.  They aren't accidentally using reverb to cover up their mistakes.

While only their drummer is classically trained they know how to play their instruments.  The guitarist and lead singer bows his guitar and the sound just rips through the room.  He sings in a falsetto so well that he was able to hit every single note for 2 hours.  I can't sing in a falsetto for half an hour at karaoke without cracking.  Of course I don't do it for a living either... and I maybe have more to drink before I go on stage than he does?  I don't know about that, but I know it usually takes a bit of alcohol to get me to sing in front of people.  Okay that's a lie.  I can do it sober too.

But I digress.


I saw Sigur Ros on Wednesday night with my boyfriend.  I've been to a lot of concerts and this one was easily the best.  At one point I turned to him and said, "That one song was worth the price of admission."

The price of admission was $96 for 2 people.  That does not include parking and snacks while at the Cedar Park Center.  I did not care for the venue.  The seats were terrible and they were uncomfortable at best.  In spite of that the show was phenomenal. I would even go back to that venue to see them play again.  My boyfriend's comment was that he was surprised by how much they could rock and well... yeah those guys can rock it pretty hard.

I think they're classified as post rock because they're Icelandic and there's a limited population of people who can understand what they're saying.  Literally... there are more people in Austin than there are in Iceland.

You know when you listen to classical music how it gives you a feel or imagery?  What this makes me feel is something akin to the more poetic elements of World War I which I know very little about.  But they use gas masks in more than one of their videos so perhaps that's where it comes from.  I just know if I did a little bit of research I could write a story about World War I and I'd have my sound track laid out.

I digress again.

Basically, if you have the opportunity to see these guys live they're worth it.  Their live show adds dimension and texture to their studio recordings.  I left wanting to hear more of their music.  I couldn't tell you the names of the songs they play because I don't speak Icelandic but I can tell you that I like almost all of their songs.  I love several of their songs and I walked out of that show feeling like staying out late and going to work tired would be worth it.

Team Effort

So we got my mom through a really intense surgery.  She's still recovering but after almost 4 weeks she's finally back home.  She's probably in better shape now than she was when she walked into the hospital the morning of her surgery. She's certainly excited that she's back in her unkempt home with her unkempt dogs and her television that I think she hugged.

I visited her twice a day while she was in skilled nursing.  The morning visit was just for a few minutes.  We'd discuss her activities for the day and then we'd see if we could negotiate her escape. There were a few days when we had to battle the stupidity of the staff but for the most part it was uneventful.

In the evenings I would visit with her for maybe an hour.  I realized that I needed something to do with my hands while I was there so I started to crochet.  I don't know what I'm crocheting beyond it will resemble a rectangle.  I can crochet straight lines. That can result in a scarf or a blanket or a pot holder, but that's pretty much it.

My boyfriend's mother teaches crochet. On Saturday I sat with her and we crocheted together.  It was really nice.  While he slept on her couch, she and I sat together and discussed my mom, ex-husbands and how wonderful my boyfriend really is to me.

When I saw Mom that evening I talked to her about it. She asked me if I would mind sitting with her for a few minutes each day like we did in the nursing home.  We could sit and discuss our day and life and love and new discoveries and the dogs.  I agreed to do it because I love my mom and I enjoy spending time with her.

I realized that dealing with my mom's mortality involves both of us.  It also involves my half-brother, who was very supportive of her especially. He offered to come and help and if it gets worse I may clean my carpets and take him up on it.  It also involved her best friend, her surly sister and what I like to refer to as "Team Austin."  They are a group of close friends who support both of us through this process.  You know who you are.  I appreciate everyone who has offered me words of comfort and encouragement while she has been handed this horrible illness to contend with.

She has to do the heavy lifting.  She is the one having the surgery and possibly the chemo therapy or the radiation, or not.  I am driving her to the appointments.  I visit with her daily to comfort not only her, but me too.

One day it felt like it was just me.  Then a friend showed up with fruit and flowers at the hospital.  I realized that every single bit of relief is priceless.  I will always remember the relief of seeing a caring face of a friend who took a few minutes out of her day to support me.  Those were 30 golden minutes.

I think going forward I want to offer that same relief to my friends.  I learned it's also my responsibility to be there for them when I can.  I commit to making a better effort in the future.  I promise to all my friends to actually show up or call or do whatever I can to give them a touch of the love they need to get through their tough times.

This process has involved a lot of stress.  I've lost a lot of sleep and used a lot of sick leave and through it all,  my friends have loved me.  Not all of them read my blog but to those who do, thank you for all you do.

The Wisdom to Know the Difference

If you don't know me personally I need to preface this entry with the statement that I panic a lot. It doesn't take much.  I don't cry.  I chew on things until they pass and either turn out to be less than imagined so I feel silly or more than I imagine so I feel unprepared.  Rarely do I find I have dedicated the appropriate amount of time and energy to a high-stress situation.  With age I'm getting better, but I'll eventually run out of time and I don't know if my heart can take it in 20 years.

My mom is going to have surgery on Friday to save her life.  It's the second time in six months.  Last time I said, "Let's wait until the new year before we have anymore drama okay?"  When she was complaining in November about her right side pain I assured her it was gas.  Our family doctor and I both said she should eat some yogurt.  In January she saw a specialist, had some scans and low and behold it's cancer.

I learned one very important lesson.

Freaking out solves nothing.

A few weeks ago we got one of the many scans back and it suggested Mom may have cancer in two places and my heart dropped again.  I had just recovered from the news of the initial diagnosis.  We knew she had it in her colon.  They said it was Stage 1 if this second spot wasn't cancer.  That's a pretty big 'IF'.

When she was diagnosed I went online and found everything I could about colon cancer.  They soften the edges for the casual reader.  They don't want to scare the piss out of you.  I needed the truth.  I read the medical practitioner section of the same website and had the piss scared out of me.  

I found out this is a coping mechanism.  If I know as much about something as I can, I can gain control over it.  HA!  I actually thought I could gain control over cancer.

I wanted so badly to go charging into each doctor's office and schedule my mom ahead of all the other patients.  I was so frustrated.  I just wanted to scream at everyone, "Don't you see what's happening?!"  When they have their own lives and trouble and other patients who are going through the exact same thing.

This second spot they found was the universe announcing I have exactly no control over this.  It took me sitting in my car in rush hour traffic on the way home that evening to realize there was nothing I could do.  She was going to see the doctor the following day and he would determine if the spot was worthy of further examination.  

On Thursday evening at 6:00 PM the only thing I have control over is myself and whether I listen to NPR or my iPod.  I have no control over traffic, the weather, the Republicans, North Korea or my mom's cancer.  

Once I realized that I relaxed and it was like the weight of the previous weeks had been released.  I accepted I have one job.  I am supposed to love her.  That's all I can do.  I can stand by her while she deals with this life threatening illness.  I can hold her hand while we talk to doctors about some really scary shit.  When she calls me with special requests I can get them for her.  

Most importantly I can take care of myself.  If I don't take care of myself I am of no use to either of us.  She will need me a lot more in the coming months than she does today.  

I know I'm not the first person to go through this.  I'm certainly not the last.  I know countless books, articles and seminars have been given on this topic, but if you're anything like me, you may need to get this information from more than one source.  My advice to anyone who is up against the wall with something that causes them to freak out is this:

1. Take a breath.  For real.  I snorted the last time someone told me to do it and when it worked I felt like an idiot so just do it.  (Repeat this as often as necessary.)  
2. If you have a friend who can help you through this, call them.  My mom's best friend always says "Don't borrow trouble" and "Sufficient are the troubles of today." Call that friend.
3. I never thought I'd say this but think of the Serenity Prayer.  Accept the things you can and cannot change and hopefully a relaxation exercise or two has given you the wisdom to know the difference.
4. Focus ONLY on the things you can control.  
5. Define your duties and be thorough.  All those articles you read about time management and organization matter now.  If you haven't read any of those articles and are as naturally disorganized as I am, take an hour to check out a few.
6. Let the rest of it go.  You have defined the things you can control.  Now go forth and control those things.  That should be sufficient to keep you busy.

So far the last 10 days have been MUCH easier.  I have been a better problem solver.  I have been a better employee because I am taking better care of myself.  I am actually taking care of my business, not just myself.  

An example of one thing I did was I cut off all my hair.  It was dried out and over-processed and it frustrated me. I went to a salon and told her to get rid of it all.  Now, instead of 15 minutes of begging my hair not to look awful, it takes me 12 seconds to get ready in the morning.  It was something I could control.  Now I don't have to worry about my hair.

It looks like my mom will be fine after the surgery.  My life will resume some sort of normal.  I hope.  I am hoping for a little bit of a break.  I am hoping for some time to hang out and enjoy the spring and spend time with my mom and love my boyfriend and my pets and do a good job at work with my new found skill of "self-care."  I've started volunteering at SafePlace.  I want to be able to help the women in our community who are affected by violence to live better lives.  

Now, going forward, I hope I remember I wrote this the next time I panic about something.