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[i]Waking up. I check my phone. It’s 11:11 a.m.
Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.
All day shift at China Wok.
A Russian grandfather and dad with a son walk in for a
pick-up order. I recognize their accent. Before they leave I ask if they’re
Russian and attempt to impress them with a Russian sentence that translates to
“I understand Russian only a little.” The dad smiles and congratulates me in
such a way, “Xорошо.” Then the kid approaches the counter showing me his toy
airplanes.
Grilled Cheese Bagel with Edamame Hummus and Tomato.
Goldfish Crackers. Honey Green Tea.
Because of it being New Year’s Eve the streets are a little
more crowded than usual – everyone racing to grab the last champagne bottle.
Noticing more taxis and other delivery drivers zooming around along with an
increase in police presence on the road.
The day just zooms by – order after order after order after
order.
Apple.
Exchanging a few texts with Leslie. She’s still working on
stitching up my pants. She mentions something about her day not going well. I
offer her to vent her troubles here at The Wok. She doesn’t come but says,
“Hey, thank you. I seriously am super grateful we became friends.”
Me: “I am grateful as well. you’ve chosen to take a ride on
this ‘friend’ ship and I can guarantee you a safe yet adventurous voyage.”
Leslie: “:0) glad to hear it capt’n bc this little LAS
doesn’t swim all that well...”
Towards the end of my shift I’m getting agitated as the
orders keep calling in causing me to work an extra hour later than usual. I
find myself uncontrollably mumbling complaints to myself as I walk in and out
of the restaurant.
I finally clock out of China Wok shortly after 11 p.m. I
drop by the house to scoop up Darren. We deliver my last order of the night
together like the delivery brothers we are. I make him drive so I can focus on
shoveling my dinner into my mouth. I’m starving.
Broccoli, Snow Peas, Onions, and Rice in Brown Sauce.
Darren’s a little slow at maneuvering the car around the
oceanfront. After dropping off Chinese food to customers at Palm Grove we pull
up into Elliott’s driveway expecting a lively bonfire and friends but none of
the sort is happening.
Me: “What in the world? Where is everybody?”
We call Elliott and he seems a little discouraged because
apparently nobody showed up so he’s just lying in bed.
Me: “What? C’mon! I’ve got two bottles of champagne in the
backseat. At least share a bottle with us.”
But he’s dead set on resigning for the night. So there we
are, Darren and I, at 11:45 p.m. with no back up plan. I entertain the idea of
grabbing a beer at Harpoon Larry’s, Margot’s workplace. At first it was kind of
a joke but then we actually do it.
...
There. Darren and I grab a beer. They’re handing out plastic
champagne cups for everyone. Margot is working. I hug and say happy new
year and whatnot. We don’t stay long...just long enough to watch the ball drop
on TV.
Soon after we join up with friends at Rick’s Café. James,
Tristan, Anthony, Kelley, and Leisa are present.
Apple Pie.
James enlightens us with a hipster joke, “Why did the
hipster burn his tongue on his coffee?”
Us: “Why?”
James: “Because he drank it before it was cool!”
[Ha! Ha! Ha!]
Everything is jovial and cheerful – the air is filled with a
general spirit of excitement for 2013...but really it’s just another night at
Rick’s.
Sleep 4:30 a.m.
[i] All images
by me.
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