Homesick

Having recently moved I am forced to replace my favorite restaurants with ones in my new town.

I think I will have the most difficulty replacing Ted’s Hot Dogs.

I started going there as a kid and over the years came to appreciate it for more than just hot dogs. Ted’s is the kind of place where you walk in, get in line, see your food on the grill, pay and go grab a seat. No one serves you there. So I found Ted’s to be an ideal place to send people who were selling rifles and shotguns through classified ads.

The call involved the owner answering a few questions and I would express interest in buying their weapon. I went on to explain that I was the manager of Ted’s and the best thing would be for the seller to bring the gun to my work. I told them that I worked the grill behind the counter and that my restaurant was always busy. So the best thing to do was bring in the gun, hold it up so I could see it and then just go sit down. “That way”, I instructed to the gun owner, “I’ll know you’re here and I’ll just take a break.” I always agreed to throw in a free lunch to ensure that the people would hold up the gun upon entering the place.

While I was never there to witness any gun sellers I was often charmed by the image of terrified Ted’s diners as a man with a shotgun walked into their friendly hot dog stand, ordered nothing and then took a seat in a booth near them. Now who wants onion rings?

Drinks are on the House

Having a steel worker for a father, I come to usually side with labor when labor clashes with management. However, being a motherfucker, I will invariably side with mischief over either party.

When I found myself in the middle of a thousand airline workers on the verge of striking one Saturday night labor ended up getting the short end of the stick…and a shitbag Mardi Gras themed bar got that stick up their ass.

After dinner my friend and I went for coffee to see a curious sight. We noticed a line of several hundred people holding candles walking single in a single file line and wearing lime green t-shits with the words “give us a break” in large letters. The mood was heavy so I knew this line wasn’t going conga. The line ended up at the headquarters of a major airline that just happened to be in the 11^th hour of labor negotiations.

A man appeared with a mega-phone to announce that the airline was at an impasse with the union. People grumbled and affirmed their commitment to striking with slogans of solidarity like, “fucking assholes, fuck this shit.” The scene got ugly as the airline employees knew they’d be on strike and struggling.

Then as easily as all seemed lost, the workers got what they wanted and more. A little time passed and the mega-phone guy announced that they had a breakthrough and would be getting most of the concessions they requested. The crowd grew optimistic and light-hearted as the speaker warned that the deal was not done yet.

I approached the man in charge and told him that I was the manager of the Fat Tuesdays down the street. I offered my support and told them that if they get this thing worked out, the first round is on the house. The man immediately held up his mega-phone and boisterously told the workers that they were going to get some free drinks at said bar, the people roared with applause.

Another 30 minutes or so passed and the man stood up on a chair to proclaim, “We got it! We got it! We got it! Now let’s celebrate at Faaaaat Tuesdaaaaays!” Sadly, I could not join them for that complimentary first round. Yet, I could take some comfort in seeing several hundred people arguing over who was going to pay a $5,000 bar tab.

My First Day in LA

But you gave it to me…so how could I steal it?

How comfortable would you be putting all your worldly possessions into a stolen vehicle and driving across the desert? I can tell you that I for one felt pretty good about it after I considered just how many morons I’ve rented from over the years. I planned the most crucial part of my move through U-Haul.com so that I could lay the groundwork anonymously.

A U-Haul agent called me to let me know my truck was waiting at this sketchy garage/gas station in a bad part of town. In fact, the staff at said shithole seemed stunned when I told them I was there to get a truck, even though there were five of them in the parking lot. The greasiest of them all told me over and over that he, “didn’t know how to do them U-Hauls.” I eased his fears by telling him that I took care of everything online “n’shit” and just needed to pick up the key. So he and I just repeated our lines, in my case, lies over and over. Finally our highly flammable attendant said, as if he were guessing, “so you paid online and you just need the key?” As I nodded my head yes, I didn’t think it could be so easy. He turned and handed me the key and I got the hell out of there before some one smart showed up.

Several hours and hundreds of miles later I made it to the land of crushed hopes and validated fears thinking “What the fuck am I gonna do with this quasi-stolen truck?” While I was tempted to just torch it or start my new career in the moving business with it, I drove it to a check cashing place/U-Haul renter and said “There’s your truck. See ya later.” The guy there asked to see the contract. Well versed in being evasive, I just said, “it must be around here somewhere” and did nothing to produce it. Fearing that he was calculating some amount to charge me I pulled some stuff out of my pockets a looked at it in a pensive way and walked out the door.

Walking home in my new neighborhood, I noticed a rather determined and well worn woman walk a few feet in front of me from this strip mall. As she turned the corner walking briskly I heard a crusty old man on a Rascal scooter yell, “Jackie, you ripped me off, you bitch!” As the man gave chase in his battery powered revenge cart, it appeared that Jackie probably was in the hand job industry. I scolded myself for being so cynical to think the man was yelling about his ejaculation being denied. But then I thought “Didn’t I just steal a U-haul? What am I thinking?” As it turns out, Jackie lives in the building right next door.