Did you see The Davinci Code?

Albino Monks? Conspiracy theories? Secret Societies? That guy that was in Forrest Gump? Complicated Codes? What did you think?

Here's a code that isn't so complicated.

When someone walks into a restaurant, looks around, realizes that there are plenty of empty tables because it's not that busy, and then says, "You know what? We're going to just sit at the bar?" Just sit at the bar is code for I'm not planning on tipping much and don't want to be bothered by a real waiter.

It's true. Argue with me all you want.

My years in the industry have convinced me that people think that they can tip less at the bar. Maybe it's because the bartender is busy cutting fruit, working the service bar also, or has an entire bar to attend to... who knows. It might not even be a conscious decision, but it's true almost every single time. I bartend, and even I think, somewhere in my mind, I'll just have a beer or two and an appetizer, where as if I sat at a table I might feel obligated to spend more, and then of course tip more.

You want to sit at the bar?

Fine.

You plan on skimping on the tip?

Okay, but don't call me buddy and act like I should feel privileged to serve your cheap ass!

Another Rejection.

I got another rejection notice in the mail yesterday. This time the form letter came from a local theatre company who thanked me for my submissions, 2 scripts, but unfortunately they were unable to use either piece that I wrote. I guess I should be thankful to actually get a notification. Some companies only contact the writers whom they select to produce. The unlucky are left to figure things out as time passes them by. I really thought these 2 scripts had a chance, though.

A disappointment, Yes, but not the end of the world.

I still have 4 scripts out there in circulation, 1 script that has already been approved for a Summer Festival, and I'll be mailing 2 more scripts off to a theatre company this week.

So I'll just keep plugging away...

Puppy Dreams

What do little dogs dream of? Hm?

Chasing cats? Enormous green fields of virgin grass, never before soiled or sprinkled by another dog? Diving into a pool full of milk bones? Maybe a giganitic leg that stretches high above, into the heavens, just waiting to be have every squared inch humped with complete abandon.

Who knows?

Early this morning, while sleeping, I heard Tootsie begin to growl. (Now it's not a menacing growl, much to her disappointment. The hairs on the back of your neck won't even begin to stand up but it's the only growl she has.) So she was growling and then let out a few sharp barks. I rolled over thinking that maybe she was being smothered between Sara and I, or warning us of an intruder's presence. She was completley asleep; laying on her back, eyes closed, her paws making tiny little running movements. I wonder what it was about.

Nothing.

Nothing seems important... or interesting enough to write about..

This past weekend we took our dog to a BBQ. We had a great time hanging out. The dog decided to follow me on a run to the store even though she wasn't invited. I was a block and a half a way when I heard my name being called by my girlfriend, I turned around and my dog, having escaped from the yard, ran across the street and into my arms. It was a little alarming considering the traffic.

Later that same night, while on a beer run, we bumped into some friends on the corner. As we were saying our Hellos a cabbie ran a stop sign and slammed into an SUV. I saw the whole thing happen. I watched as it all happened and thought to myself, "Is this really happening?" I even said, "Did that just happen?" We all saw it. Thankfully no one was hurt. Oh, and FYI, the SUV spun around and hit a fire hydrant! Nothing happened. The Tailgate got a little dinged up, but no geyser of water, not even a little spurt. That kid in me, raised on action sequences and car chases was extremely disappointed.

Had a good day yesterday. Had a good day today. I've been off. The weather's been nice. Saw a movie. Ate outside with the dog. Relaxed. Even tried to get back into a book I'm reading.

I'm distracted. Maybe I'm even pouting... a bit.

I realized today that I am doing a really bad job of being patient. I have these scripts out in the world; submissions. I'm waiting to hear whether or not they will be produced. I have other scripts I can work on. I'm submitting more scripts this week, or maybe next, but I'm obsessed with hearing back about the projects I have out there. I hate waiting. It's the worst part. It muddies everything else up.

Your Mothers Should Be Ashamed!

Mother's Day. What a wonderful day to celebrate the wonder that is MOM. Here's a few rules I shall be implementing for Mother's Day once I have conquered this pitiful ball of mud we call Earth.

1) If you take your Mother out for Brunch on Mother's Day do not leave a 9% tip.

2) If you take your Mother out for Brunch on Mother's Day and plan on leaving a 9% tip do not shake your server's hand on your way out of the door.

3) Do not go out for Mother's Day Brunch, or any other meal for that matter, with only $20 and run up a $19.51 tab. This leaves a $.49 tip which SUCKS! ($.49? I can't even make a phone call for $.49.)

4) Do not schedule servers for a double on Mother's Day, and promise them a profittable shift, plenty of customers, and great tips if in fact you can only deliver crappy tips, empty tables, and an 11 hour shift that leaves your servers irritable, exhausted, and questioning their belief in God.

*****If you break any of these important rules I, the conquereror of said mud ball named Earth, get to spit a big, gooey, Doc Holiday loogie in your face and kick you in the nuts and/or punch you in the breast.

I have spoken!

Do me a favor, dude...

SHUT UP!

The woman asked you if you wanted the extreme value item today. Trail Mix. 10 for $10. She didn't ask for a lecture on sugar, sodium and the obesity epidemic in America. She's a Check Out Clerk at the local Ocsco. I'm sure the last thing she wanted when she woke up this morning was to be scolded by a pompous, long-winded, condescending British Arsehole like yourself. Just get your bag and go. Don't try to make eye contact with me, and win me over to your side. I'm going to buy an extreme value trail mix, just to spite you.

Mmmm, yummy. I hope this doesn't make me fat.

oops

Absentmindedly I pick up my drink carrier, loaded with two medium coffees, and my bag of muffins. I step out of line and walk out the front door. As I get close to the curb I start to wonder, "Did I pay for these drinks? I think I just picked them up and walked out. I don't remember paying for these."

Then I think, "Wait a minute, this is a dream. I'm dreaming. I should wake up soon. But before I do I really should pay for this order." So in I walk, and offer to pay for the drinks, and muffins I had gotten away with. It was dream but my conscience still made me go back and pay.

Patience...

... As hard as I may try, has never been one of my stronger suits.

Can I See Your ID, Please?

You may respond - Really? Wow, I can't remember the last time...

My Response - I just need to be sure.

You could respond -Are you serious? How old do think I am? No, really... guess.

My Response - I just need to be sure.

You may also say - Boy, that's a first. Honey can you believe he's carding us. That's Crazy.

My Response - I just need to be sure.

I've also heard - I didn't bring my ID. I never get carded. Why would I bring my ID. I'm 23.

My Response - I just need to be sure.

('I just need to be sure' is code for SHUT THE HELL UP! SHOW ME YOUR ID OR YOU WON'T GET ANY SANGRIA, JACK-ASS! I DON'T CARE HOW OLD YOU ARE. I DON'T CARE THE LAST TIME YOU WERE CARDED AND I DON'T ESPECIALLY CARE THAT YOU THINK I'M BEING RIDICULOUS ASKING FOR YOUR IDENITICATION! SHOW ME YOUR ID AND SHUT THE HELL UP! YOU COULD'VE ALREADY HAD A DRINK IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A USELESS PIECE OF DOG CRAP! ARE YOU STILL TALKING? DON'T FLAP YOUR LIPS... OPEN YOUR WALLET.)