Sunday, August 24, 2008

I've got to know, know, know you

Hey all.

Today I went with the Uncle D. to San Francisco and went fishing off the wharf. You don't need a fishing license to fish there, so it was very fun. We didn't catch anything, but we did lose 6 hooks and 3 weights. I'd consider that a successful day.

We then went to eat on the wharf, after dropping supplies off at the car. The food where we went was really good, but the service was god-awful. The kid that was helping us was more interested in chatting with his coworkers (mostly women) then actually giving service. Uncle D. had to walk up to him to ask for refills on our drinks, and when he came back with them, neither had ice and Uncle D. didn't even get a new lemon in his iced tea. Not only that, but he spent several minutes with both our glasses full at the bar talking to another coworker.

I don't know about all you people, but I'd have been damned embarrassed to have a customer come up to me when I was supposed to be paying attention to point out their glasses were empty. I would then make sure to QUICKLY serve them and apologize, probably 2-3 times.

But no, he went and talked with his coworker for a while and shot the shit. Which is total BS.

Hm, but it was a good day. Every time I go to San Francisco I say, "Man, I really really want to live here." I can persuade myself I don't when I'm away, but as soon as I'm there, I get this reckless urge to check into employment and living opportunities and just move my butt over there. I mean, the place is chock full of good public transit, nice places to go, good colleges, plenty of job opportunities. The only problem is high rent, so I'd have to have multiple roommates (like I do now).

IF I could find a situation like I have here out there, I'd move. I'd have to convince the boyfriend, but even if he didn't want to... I think I'd move. I feel a draw to that city that is really hard to explain.

See ya'll later, happy trails and all. Oh, by the way, wish me luck. Tomorrow I'm hoping to receive a phone call from the art store that I interviewed at. If I get hired, it's--

Happy, happy, happy,


Blogger D.B. Echo said...

Please tell me you didn't tip that guy.

The worst service I ever got was at the Hard Rock Cafe at Inner Harbor in Baltimore. My sister and I had been visiting Inner Harbor one weekend that I was down at her place, and suddenly she developed a blood sugar situation. We headed for the nearest restaraubt and I explained to the waiter as directly but discretely as I could what the situation was, and how it was very inportant that he get us some bread sticks or other such food as quickly as possible. And he wandered off - and didn't come back, even to take our order, for a ridiculous amount of time. People came, ordered, ate, and left before we ever saw our food, which didn't even show up until I made a ruckus. He offered some non-apology for the food being so late, but clearly didn't care one way or another. I think - I hope - I left him a tip of two pennies. Something for the eyes, you know.

5:20 PM  
Blogger D.B. Echo said...

Oh, I forgot to mention: the bread sticks finally did show up - with the rest of the food.

5:21 PM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home