I’d like to speak to the manager!!!!

Today.

Was.

A.

Day.

It started out in the shitter.

And ended awesomely.

First.

I’m fucking stressed.

And I’ve learned in the past 58 years, but mostly in the last two, that to hold on to it makes it worse.

I don’t hide it. I don’t pretend it’s not happening.

I just say It’s all good. Which is how everyone I work with knows there’s a restaurant called Saul Good in Kentucky.

That being said. I’m stressed.

I had the mother of all anxiety attacks last night getting ready for bed.

Heart racing.

Nauseous.

Cold sweat.

Shaking.

I shared all this with Adam when I came to bed.

Share it and it will get better.

He talked me off the ledge

Mostly by reminding me that in 12 months we’l be saying remember last year when everything was a disaster.

I finished my bourbon. Turned off the light. And had work dreams all night.

I got to work still off kilter.

I said good morning to everyone at the new restaurant.

It was 11:08.

I have a supervisor who is cover lunch shifts as much as he can.

Then I headed to my old restaurant.

I have not been there during the day in three weeks.

In fact the lovely woman who cleans for us, was so excited to see me. It’s usually just the two of us for at least a few hours each day.

She told me how much she missed me and how lonely it was without me.

I made coffee.

I set up my computer.

Only to realize my battery was dead.

My charger was at the new restaurant.

I decide I’ll check and write down all the messages first. Then head to get my charger and then return calls.

I hit play.

It’s a woman wanting a reservation for Saturday.

I record her number.

Hit delete.

The next message starts.

I listen.

2 minutes later it finishes.

I start it over.

I listen.

2 minutes later it finishes.

Who had Jeff getting called a F*G on voicemail today on their bingo card.

First.

This hasn’t happened in a long time.

Second.

I was taken aback.

A little frightened.

And a bit fucking mad.

Here’s the thing with a phone today. Especially one with a 1996 answering machine attached.

It has a recording. That is saved till I erase it.

It also has called ID.

Fun fact.

Before the message started I knew who you were.

When I recorded the message on my phone 5 minutes later I knew who you were.

I knew who you were when I told Chef about it.

I knew who you were when I followed Chef’s advice and called the police.

I knew who you were when I shared the recording with the hot detective (chef’s words or mine).

He knew who you were as well.

He knew you very well.

Here’s the thing.

You are probably harmless.

But so were lots of other people.

Till they weren’t.

I’ve written about the person three times.

But now there’s a public record of their harassment.

But.

That’s not why I shared this story.

Not at all.

I shared it because I was impressed with Chef’s defense of me. His employee.

He thought I should press charges. Phone harassment is a crime.

I chose a warning.

Most of all. It was a distraction.

And when I looked up at midnight tonight from my computer.

I realized it was a good day.

I’m caught up for 45 seconds.

And everything is good.

And my anxiety is at bay.

And I’ll have a/c when I get home tomorrow. M

And as I told the cop, I’ve been called worse by far smarter people.

And in truth.

I am a F*G.

With a capital F.

I hate that word.

But for the last 30 years I’ve never let it be used to degrade me.

Fuck that shit.

Now. It’s 3:00 am.

I gave to be at my knee doctor at 9:30.

I’m going to ge tired.

But it will have been so worth it.

PS. No editing tonight.