There was a time in my life that
existed pre-radio and hopefully there will be a time that will exist
post Smithfield News, provided this job doesn't kill me. During my
pre radio days I even almost got married. I say almost like we had a
chapel booked and what not and somebody was a no show, but it wasn't
that far along, rather we had looked at rings and such, I had picked
out the one I was going to get before the relationship turned into a
shitstorm of nonsense and we went our separate ways.
Now the story I am about to tell
took place about a block from where I am sitting, Jen and I had a two
bedroom apartment that I walk by every day on my way to the bus stop.
Truth be told I am sure I have written this story once before in the
blog, but as NBC used to say about their reruns, if you haven't see
it, then it's new to you. And there is the radio adage about
repeating things as well, your audience is always changing, not
everybody heard what you did in the last hour, with 10 years worth of
material, not everybody has read everything I ever wrote as well.
A brief little background on the
Matt-Jen relationship. We met while working at the now out of
business Rax restaurant. There were a roast beef chain, much like
Arby's, but we had a salad bar. They had a location here in Oakland
at the corner of Forbes Avenue and Bouquet Street and I think I got
an application for there during one of those times where I was
willing to do anything to make ends meet. Back in those days two
jobs was the rule, not the exception. And the thing was while I was
working there Jen was a shift supervisor, so yes I am also guilty
of at one point in my life of fucking my boss. I would like to say
there were perks to that arrangement but what perks to you get out of
fucking your boss at Rax, free roast beef sandwiches?
While our relationship lasted two
plus years our working relationship did not. I eventually left and
worked at a bar/restaurant down the street, The Attic, where I ran
the kitchen during dinner shift. Jen stayed at Rax, which was
eventually bought out by Miami Subs, another chain that failed
miserably. Okay, I just did a little research, Rax has 4 locations
left, Miami Subs is now Miami Subs Grill and has a bunch of Florida
locations as well as plans to expand globally, so anyone who is
reading this, no matter where on the globe they may be could
potentially put in to be a Miami Subs franchisee still. All I know
is their 4 or so Pittsburgh locations died a terrible death, though
it was quicker than the steel industry here.
Okay, that bullshit was completely
off topic, when we last left our happy couple (happy at that time,
now, no so much) Jen was working at Rax/Miami Subs and Matt was
working at The Attic. The thing about working at The Attic was that
I was working with a bunch of friends that I had known for years
prior and some new people that would also become friends. And some of
us even shared the same name, as there were three Matt's who worked
at The Attic, so it was decided by someone, though I do not know who
was on that voting committee, that we should all have nicknames. So
Matt the bouncer was called Bones, a nickname he picked up in high
school as a wrestler. Matt the bartender was called Tiger, why I
don't know, he had no particular attribute that would make one think
he was a tiger, though he did started homebrewing his own beer in his
apartment, which eventually let to bigger and better gigs. When I
last lost track of him I heard he was with Baltimore Brewing, one of
those trendy micro brew outfits. I too was stuck with a nick name,
mine was big P, it has nothing to do with genitalia (trust me on
that, I am not posting pictures to prove it) but P is simply the
first letter of my last name.
Now a bunch of us from the Attic
would party together outside of work. On Sundays we would go
drinking together when our bar was closed, after work we would hang
out and play hockey on the Sega genesis at Steve's apartment or go to
Bones's place where a bunch of them would get high (sorry, marijuana
isn't my thing) and we would sit around and watch old Star Trek TNG
reruns on USA Network or we would get together and play Dungeons and
Dragons (which is where all of my nerdish D&D references in the
blog come from). There were maybe 7 of us that made up that group,
me, Bones, Chad, Steve, Bake and Rich.
Back to our story, one day Jen is
getting ready for work and I am laying on the couch. She was running
between the two bedrooms we had, one of which we used for storage and
what not (this isn't a story from Puritan times, her and I shared a
bed) and she had set up an ironing board in the spare bedroom and
would run between the rooms going into the spare bedroom to work on
her work outfit, then run back to the actual bedroom. During the
time between the bedrooms I would see her go by and we were joking
with each other, teasing each other with a “you're tubby” or
“you're fat” type silliness that we sometimes did. Finally
during one flash between the rooms, as she went to iron her shirt or
something she went by in her bra and panties and I yelled out “Get
me a stick of butter”. She came back into the living room and
asked what I said, so I repeated myself. She asked why I would need
a stick of butter and I exclaimed, “I will need some butter for all
of those rolls.”
I laughed so hard I fell off the
couch, I though for sure the greatness of my comedic genius would
soon be recognized and I would be doing USO Tours with Bob Hope or
something. Jen left for work, I got off of the couch and got dressed
and made my way into work, still revelling in my comedic genius. So
I go up to Bones and Steve and Chad and tell them all about my
cleverness. “Ha ha ha, I told her I would need a stick of butter
for her rolls, ha ha ha.” Having unloaded my comedic genius on my
work audience I ran the dinner shift and closed the kitchen for the
night. I had my free after work drink, shot a little pool and then
went home.
I got home, Jen was there, I
don't think she was all that happy with me though it was about to get
a lot worse, little did I realize. Around 3am there is a car horn
honking outside our apartment, I get up from the bed and look out the
window, it is Chad's car, they are headed back to Bones's place to
probably smoke and get high and watch Star Trek again. But why are
they outside my place honking the car horn and waking up my
neighbors? So I open the window to yell down and see what they want.
When I open the window, four people are hanging out Chad's car
windows and they all scream up to me “Big P butters the roll.”
Of course Jen heard this, and suffice it to say she was not pleased,
to the tune of not talking to me for hours afterward. What can I
say, but some people don't appreciate comedy.
Ouch.
ReplyDeleteOk, Matt ... it was not your finest hour.