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What you will find here is not just about my day to day existence adrift. If that were the case, even I wouldn't read it. Of course I love music, and photography, so you'll probably find a lot here. I really don't know why I'm writing this blog to be honest... anyway here's a cross-country trek into my life, my thoughts and some, mayhaps unreliable, memoirs of a misplaced soul on its way to....

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Another Day At Work - Mum Called

It started at work. 9:47am whilst serving a customer.

"Coffee and a newspaper... and a plastic bag for the paper"
I cleared my throat - that would have to suffice for a response - then put my order pad in my apron without writing down anything. Something had distracted me and my mind was wandering. I was thinking 'there goes my 25 cent gratuity...'
There it was again.... an insistent buzz on my right cheek. It was my cell phone. You see I had put the device on vibrate and then placed the thing in my right back pocket. I returned with the coffee, newspaper and plastic 'thank you' bag, then asked, unnecessarily if there was anything else. There wasn't.

The buzzing stopped. Instinct told me fate was busy rearranging my placid life.

I returned to the counter to let the boss know I didn't write a check. He probably didn't hear me - he was brooding because it was slow and will need to pick on me soon. I started rolling silver and began to think. Marissa started polishing silver. Lawrence hid at his deserted station in the courtyard.

About that 25 cents. If I wrote a check for coffee and a newspaper I have to charge gratuities for both. I got in trouble for calculating only the coffee once because my boss says it's not possible to ring it up that way. Also I'm not about to charge a customer 15% for a newspaper.

About that phone call. It was my mum. She had bought a toaster-oven and could I assist her in getting it out of her car and into the house after work. It was too heavy for her. I said 'no problem' and thought some more.

I hadn't spoken to mum in a while and was feeling guilty. Also she sounded pleasant and wasn't yelling at me. Maybe she was beginning to understand that yelling doesn't work anymore with me. I resolved to head up to Somerset at 3:45pm and miss the west end rush hour traffic. It would mean not eating for the day. If I stayed an hour or so I could leave at 6 ish and be home in Flatts at 7 ish. Then I could either eat or do my laundry.

I had a plan. Instinct was trying to tell me something....

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