Saturday August 4 2012


Waking up at 11:15 a.m.

Plum. White Peach. Vanilla Almond Granola Bar.

All day shift at China Wok.

Delivering an order to a hotel on 4th street. I was led to believe the customer was an employee because earlier when I took the order over the phone the woman said she would meet me at the front desk. I call the phone number that was given to me but it doesn’t go through. Figures. I enter the already frantic lobby and tell a lady at the front desk my situation but she isn’t much help. And I don’t have much time to wait around.  After a while I decide to leave and hope the customer calls. After delivering another order all the way out in Kings Grant my boss calls and tells me the lady called back. I get in touch with her and boy, am I blindsided. This woman immediately starts talking down to me, accusing me of running off with her food that she already paid for with credit. I can barely get my two cents in to explain the situation. I keep my patience. Come to find out the woman was not an employee and actually staying in a room. Why didn’t she give me a room number? She continues this rant and leaves no room for me to talk. Apparently, the phone number I was given was incorrect and off by only one digit. And that explains why I couldn’t call earlier. But even after all these discoveries she continues to make me out to be the bad guy, the one who made wrong decisions, arguing with me about the stupid phone number. I’m in dismay.

Me: “Mam, we’re not having a conversation. You won’t even let me speak!”

This is probably the most distressing squabble I’ve ever had with a customer. I attempt to rectify the situation but I’m just so thrown off by this woman’s attitude. And then she has the nerve to say to me, “Don’t you know the customer is always right?”

I lose my composure and respond, “No! The customer is NOT always right. The customer is usually wrong. The customer is usually ignorant and incompetent. Mam, I will cancel your order as soon as I get back to the restaurant.”

There really isn’t a better way to start the day.

It gets better with this voicemail my mom leaves me...

Two Scrambled Eggs with Five Guys French Fries. Honey Oolong Tea.

Amongst the plethora of birthday wishes on Facebook and through text, I get one from Margot, “Happy birthday ex lover! Hope it’s a good day :)”

I chuckle a little bit in response but thank her.

The day continues steadily without breaks. Receiving generous tips that convince me I might actually be wearing a t-shirt that says, “It’s my birthday!” on it.

Darren started working the dinner shifts at China Wok. I see his car parked in the lot around 6:30. There he is snapping the peas and waiting for orders. I feel awkward considering our last exchange of words was on Wednesday when he yelled at me at the top of his lungs. I sit down and join him. We spark up small talk about our delivery experiences of the day. We cordially chat as if nothing ever happened but I know he’s still mad at me. I feel the tension.


Later while I’m driving around I practice talking with him once again and apologizing. I know there’ll be a chance to settle the score with him. He’s one of my best friends and I’d hate to see us fall apart. 

Finally off work.

Settling down at home with my Vegetable Lo Mein and an Anchor Steam Beer watching the rest of Changing Lanes (2002). I couldn’t ask for anything more for my birthday after a long hard day’s work than just being alone and decompressing to a movie and dinner.

Fortune cookie says, “Lies and sorrow may float through the air, but truth and happiness live inside yourself.”

Apple Fritter Bread.

Sleep at 3:40 a.m.

[i] Birthday Postcard featuring Anthony. Image by The West Coast Boys.

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