It’s been a while.
Hey everybody! I’ve been away for so long! But I’m back, and my arms are killing me. This will be an update of some strange things that have happened recently, in no particular order.
Part the First -
It is written that Chris will never work for anyone who is not connected in some way to one of his family members.
Thus I arrived with little trepidation at my job interview with a firm called Johnson Fain last Tuesday. Nevermind that this was my absolute final chance of working in a firm this summer. And nevermind that what came out of my mouth at said interview would not only reflect upon me and my school, but also my father and a principal at JF who is one of my dad’s old sailing buddies. Despite all that, I had a bit of a nerd bounce in my step as I took in the carefully cultivated "unfinished" interior of the building that signals power and prestige in the architecture world. Blissfully suppressing the squirming lava monster of nerves that yearned for a chance to screw up my life, and a cookie, I strode headlong into the three month employ of one of the largest architecture firms in Los Angeles.
And now I reap the punishments…which are also rewards, which is why I want to crawl into a hole and read books for the next twelve years. With Jessica Alba. I bet she wouldn’t force me to sand 6" cubes of basswood until they reflect the white of my teeth. Did I mention that my arms are tired?
Part Deux -
It is written that nothing interesting ever happens, until it does.
A couple of days ago I was full witness to an honest to god, four-network-broadcast high-speed police chase. It felt a bit like an episode of Benny Hill, so play that song in your head as you read further.
In the car are Nick, Sylvie, and Chris. We are driving to the Rose Bowl for some leisure activities after sundown, when up in the sky there arose such a clatter, we all raised our heads to see what’s the matter. The moon on the gray-watered grass of the bowl was nary ’nuff light to make vis’ble the whole. When what to my wandering eyes should appear, but a miniature Ford F150, and eight tiny cop cars. With gaggle of news choppers, so reckless and quick, I knew in a moment it must be a high speed chase, Nick.
It flew by silently several miles up the canyon, only flashing lights of blue and red visible, so we said our oohs and aahs and forgot all about it. However, just a few moments later, we arrived at the bowl, and a rather pathetic-looking policeman on a bicycle tried to appear authoritative as he held up his almighty hand to halt our trespass into the intersection of forbiddenness. Perplexed were we, until there arose a much greater clatter than before, and who should appear again, right next to us, but that bugger of a fugitive, and his whole entourage, spotlights and all. He tore past us like a bear on fire, trailing at safe distance a string of obedient wailing pandas. We stared in wonderment at the display, shielding our eyes from the hot UFO light of the hovering fleet. Then, to our continued astonishment, the big thug flipped a U-turn a hundred feet down the street, and shepherded his patient flock through the forbidden intersection once again, the whole spectacle disappearing up the same road from whence they had come. I almost saw credits rolling in front of me over the whole scene. That’s another Benny Hill reference, in case you’d stopped playing the song in your head. You probably were confused at the Night Before Christmas reference there in the middle. That’s ok. It’s not important.
Trilogy
It is written that meals should never cost as much as a new computer.
My cousin, bless her, just graduated from Medical School. My other cousin, bless her, is getting married. So it was that we three from Altadee squeezed into our favorite Alaskan metal sausage and flew to Seattle to celebrate. As a ‘Way to Go!’ gesture, twelve people went out to a steakhouse on Lake Union. My initial assumptions about steakhouses and their formalities were almost immediately swallowed as our waitress noticed that we had been sitting in a hot car with no air conditioning for an hour prior to our arrival. How did she notice this? She stood near us, and felt the heat from twelve sweltering bodies. She snapped her fingers, and at once a parade of aproned strongmen emerged with pitchers of ice water, unable to hold back their glee at the thought of a mere grin from our direction. I downed the first sweet serving of cool liquid, but was astonished to find my glass completely full the moment I laid it down on the table (so attentive were the servants). They filled our glasses and our bladders until not one person at the table was empty, and then disappeared like clownfish in a reef.
This new addition to my constitution led inevitably to the Pressing Need, so I slipped unobtrusively away from the table as the rest of my party held six simultaneous conversations. Thus relieved, I returned to my seat to find something amiss. What was different? I put the thought away as I reached out to once again return my napkin to its comfortable lappitude. That was it! My napkin. It was folded! I looked around violently. Who had dared disturb my nappy’s natural rest? There, in the corner, with a look of stoic pleasure, stood our waitress, awaiting our next slightest need. I turned back to the unbeknownst fray, and joined in with the festivities. Soon, another diner in our group stood to leave, and before they had so much as turned the corner toward the rest rooms, the waitress was upon their napkin like a bully to a kid with glasses. Within seconds she had deconstructed the disarray and flipped the small piece of fabric into a decorative triangle, and without so much as a whisper, zipped back to home plate. The person returned, looked at their napkin with perplexion, looked at the stubbornly silent waitress, shrugged, and returned to conversation. This required more exploration.
I yawned and stretched nonchalantly, then reached out and mussed up my napkin in a flash, shoving corners of it under the bread basket and into my water glass. Then, I looked around at the people at my table. Convinced of their being occupied, I slid silently out of my chair and purposely did not acknowledge the woman at the ready as I went toward the restrooms again. Just as I was about to round the corner, I saw her zip over to the table and I jumped into a nearby booth to witness the performance. She gave no thought to the state of my napkin, only flipping it flat, then folding it neatly before returning to her station. I giggled at my transgression, waving away the punches from the Chinese couple in whose dinner I was kneeling. I returned to my perfect pyramid of cloth as if nothing had happened, sat for a few minutes, wrapped my napkin around the candle, between the bottles of wine, and into the vase with the chrysanthemum. I strolled by the waitress like a man who just won a poker game.
This time, I walked…..as…..slo..w..ly……as……po.ss..ib..le away from the table, keeping her in the corner of my eye. She appeared flustered, stepping out from the wall, then thinking better of it, returning, then back out again, until she was sure I was far away. I wasn’t. I hid behind the frosted glass partition in the kitchen and watched her deftly untie my napkin from the table and return it to its properly creased state. Unbelievable. This woman was good. She completely won me over, and I ceased my nonsense.
I was pleased to note that after a minor squabble over who would get to pay the $660 bill, my uncle gave her a $100 tip. I like to think I was partly responsible for that.
Ok, that’s all. See you soon!
-c
