It is about time for another post, so here I am, though I have little to say about food or wine, or any of the rest of it, but I have plenty of angst, so let us begin there, shall we?
I began my day today, by noticing that my front tire was flat as a pancake, which in the long run, ended up not being all that terrible, but did create an early funk that persevered throughout the day. My manager came all the way out to “my house” (aka, the building in which I reside, there is little else about it that is “mine”) and I was even set up and ready to go before ten, which is when the sign sez I ought, but my general frame of mind was already trashed.
The owners, and the contractor were in for a good chunk of the day, working on preparing the kitchen for business, which is very good news, but I still found them to be generally in my way. The contractor then sat at the bar for a bit, while the owners were otherwise occupied, and he made a good attempt at small talk with me, regarding the juice he always orders. The name of the juice is “The Stupid Juice” because it has all possible ingredients in the mix, and will typically include a hefty dose of, garlic, ginger and yes, serrano pepper. It was an old standard at the Diner, and it outdated me by far, so when said contractor asked (again?) “Now how did you come up with this Stupid Juice?” I literally yelled at him (right at the bar, in front of all the good people of Truckee) “I didn’t make it up!!” and stormed away. Classy, as always.
Shortly after that, a regular of the Diner came in, a very sweet girl, I think she dated one or two of the Diner boys. She was very pleasant, and seemed surprised and interested that I was here in Truckee now. I replied little beyond an “mm-hmmm” and likely seemed pained to even be serving her, which I do regret.
I like both of these people very much, but here is the thing that nearly no one knows, fewer understand, and just about no one at all cares to hear about (which is why I turn to you now, my dear, inanimate blog). Every mention of the Diner, or Diner culture, past, present, or future – truly pains me.
Before the whole Stupid Juice incident, the contractor had mentioned how a bit of neon on the walls would be attractive. Anyone who has patronized the Diner knows that neon is a cornerstone of the decor, and thus, that simple passing remark was like an emotional paper-cut. The Stupid Juice line of questioning being an additional squeeze of lemon that finally caused me to literally, audibly cry out in pain. But oh well, what does it mater now?
So here is the final element in my tale of woe…it is not just that I have loved and lost, it is not just that I was once a semi-regarded business owner. Nor is it even that I once had a home, and a community, and now I am left with naught. It is not even the additional element that I was literally robbed of much of this, by some bitch who is now better protected by the laws of the land than any of her victims are.
It is, that all of this strife and struggle has come to next to nothing. There is no great moral to this story, there has been no great lesson learned. No advancement of science or mankind, or even culinary achievement is any token to this mess. I am back where I started, and limping badly. So when I am asked, repeatedly, by my customers, through out the day, after day, after day…
“How are you?”
I lie through my teeth to say I am well. & I end up resenting these good people, who are only being polite. Because they, and propriety, force me – more or less…to lie. About my own well being. So, in conclusion, I am now going to see, at least once, but hopefully more frequently, a shrink! To try and get to the bottom of all this mess and angst!!
Sometimes you just have to pay someone to listen to you gripe…