Update!

Thanksgiving was Dana and my 4 year anniversary.  We got married the saturday after thanksgiving, so we knew that eventually it would fall on thanksgiving and this was the first time it did!  We went down to Rockaway Beach to hang out with Troy, Allyson, and Christy Jo (who I haven't seen in FOREVER!). Camp Magruder was pretty quiet, and it was really nice to see Troy seem a bit more relaxed and Allison a bit more "at home" than our last visit this past summer.  It is such a blessing to have them so close (5 hour drive), and I plan on visiting them more often.  I deaned a junior high camp at Magruder this past summer and cant wait to do it again next summer.  Dana hadn't seen me in "camp mode" and she got a good dose of that and a vacation out of it!

Thanksgiving was amazingly delicious, Allyson cooked up a storm.  Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce... She's such a bad ass.  I made Pumpkin pie and Apple pie.  I did mini gluten free pies as well.  Not a fan of gluten free baking.  You can ask Dana Jill, even with regular pie dough, when it comes time to roll it out and put it in the pie dish I start losing my mind.  The dough never quite does what I want it to and no dough is more stubborn than gluten free pie dough.  Anyway, they turned out alright, the apples macerated a little to long so they were a bit mushy.  The pumpkin pie was the best I've ever made (eclipsing the previous title holder last year's pumpkin pie from Christmas).  We also made a gluten free skillet cornbread that was good (not as good as the glutinous one but still delicious) and we all shared a really yummy Cab Franc from 2012 that I brought in honor of our anniversary (we got married in 2012)

Digby was looking at me 1 second before I took this picture... 

We brought Garry along with us, and he spent a good amount of time in the car.  We bought him a huge bone, and gave him that in the car while we ate thanksgiving.  Troy and Ally have a super cute scruffy dog named Digby, and Digby isn't a fan of other dogs.  We brought Garry inside and they were cordial at first, and then Garry just would not stop wining and wanting to wrestle with Digby and Digby wasn't having it so back to the car went Garry.  At the end of the night we took both dogs out to a wide open area and through tennis balls for them to chase to get some energy out.  It was fairly rainy so we were left with 2 soaking wet happy and tired out pups.

I'm also getting settled back into Tutta Bella.  They needed someone to take over their new food truck, 'D'Asporto' and I've always dreamed of having my own food truck so it was really exciting when the director of operations reached out to me as a possible candidate for the position.  It's been really amazing to see how the company has grown since I left.  In my re-training I was assigned to read some training material that I had written years ago, which was a really cool experience and a good reminder that I need to be more patient when it comes to changing systems and structures, and that my opinion and my voice is valued.

 Dana has been very sweet and patient with me as of late.  With any job transition comes a new collection of stressors, and when I'm not diligently processing what's going on, I tend to be a real genuine douche bag to her.  I'm also pretty good at apologizing and Dana is very forgiving, so it all works out in the end.  She just made a giant batch of Mo-Mo's Mini's (delicious and delightful little Christmas cookies) that I've been trying to avoid eating all of them so that we can actually give them as gifts.

Don't know if I gave everyone an update on our Ketogenic experiment.  I got down to 207 which was a loss of 22 pounds in 30 days.  Dana saw some benefits in energy levels and clear thinking.  She felt sick almost the whole time though.  I am more than likely going to give it another go at some point next year for a couple months.  I have gained 10 pounds back, and I'm thankful that we were able to go through something like this together.  Didn't end up doing crossfit since it's ridiculously expensive.

That's all I have for you today; I know it's been a while since I've posted, and my excuse is that it's been a very busy season.  A few posts I'm working on right now are the idea of being a stranger (partly inspired by one of my new favorite podcasts "Harry Potter and the Sacred Text" That my friend Hope introduced me to.  If you even remotely enjoy Harry Potter I highly recommend it)And one that revisits the idea that life happens around food. I'm also working on a few more posts all at the same time so that I can get back to posting on a regular basis.  As always comment or whatever with suggestions or questions.  Love you all, Miss you. Thanks for reading.

What to do now....

I had an entire post written about what happened on tuesday and I deleted it.  It was my take on what we should do now in light of who we will have in the whitehouse as of January 20th.  I deleted it because I have nothing to say about any of it anymore.  I'm at a loss for words for a different reason today.

I lost a friend earlier this week.  I found out about it today.  I'm not going to share her name out of respect to her family because it's not really public knowledge yet. I haven't seen my friend in years.  I haven't even spoken to her in quite some time.  When I first heard that she passed I was sad.  Then I started to think.  This person brought so much joy into the world.  People feel differently about themselves, better, more hopeful, unique, special, and cool because they spent time around her.

3rd grade was the first year of school that sucked for me.  I got fat, there was another Sam in my class so I had to go by Samuel for half the year, my teacher was mean.... So by the time summer between 3rd and 4th ended I wasn't super excited to go back to school.  She was one of the first people who was nice to me in 4th grade.  I have little to no memories from 4th grade other than my teacher was cool and that my friend that passed away was nice to me.  She was one of the first people who was nice to me at a time where I started to develop a negative self imagine it was people like her who made me laugh, made me smile, and made me feel like not such a fat loser.

When I found out this morning, I was bummed out.  I needed to get my mind off of the sadness, so before work I noticed that Heavyweights is on Netflix and I haven't seen that movie in a long time.  It's a lighthearted comedy about a fat camp.  There's a scene where the camp has a dance and true to reality the girls are on one side, and the fat dudes of Camp Hope are on the other.  Neither are interacting or dancing.  Also much like reality the counselors are the ones who jump in the middle of an empty dance floor and dance and make a fool of themselves and then all the kids realize that it's ok to have fun.  This scene is hilarious, especially if you have ever been to a junior high camp before.  I paused the movie and realize that I was weeping.  She was the type of person that would and could make a fool of herself so that other people would realize that it's ok to be silly.

She was hurting.  She was struggling with something and must have felt isolated and alone.  I can't even imagine the hurt she was wrestling with but my heart is absolutely shattered to know that someone who had such a profound effect on my life and many others, who was such a bright light, was hurting so deeply.

In the Northwest, there are very few people that I have known since before I moved out here.  I can count them on one hand.  She was one of them.  She was on my list of "I should connect with her because even though I'm sure she has her own community of friends; it's always nice to see an old familiar face and to catch up". Well now she's gone, and I wont get a chance to grab a coffee and catch up.  I wont get a chance to hear about all the wonderful things that she's been a part of.  I won't ever get to tell her how much her kindness meant to me and that sucks.

I'm writing this as part of my grieving process but also, for those who are reading it hear this:

There is so much darkness and hate in this world. It is SOO easy to isolate ourselves especially today.  You can still feel "connected" to people who you genuinely care deeply about through facebook or IG or whatever social media outlet you choose to follow their lives on.  What I am begging each and every one of you to do is to reach out.  Call someone.  Catch up with old friends.  Take the trips to see the people you haven't seen in a while.  Spend the time connecting to each other.  Share your light, your joy, and your hope with others.  You don't know what people are going through, and if no one asks, then its easy to believe that no one cares.  Please let someone you care about know how you feel, let them know how they make you feel.  Be real, be honest, and be vulnerable.  If you are hurting, reach out.  I don't know what else to say....

Where is Hillman City?

I'm sitting here in a somewhat random part of Seattle that could be considered "dangerous" by some. I would be willing to agree with them, however I look at the danger of Hillman City in a different way.

I know a couple of dangerous people in Hillman City and I will do my best to introduce you to them.

Ben Hunter is a dangerous guy.  He along with a whole community of fantastic volunteers, artists, creatives, and other non-profiteers had the audacity of dreaming.  They had a vision of a community filled with immense diversity to have a space to gather together to discuss, create, love, play, cook, and grow.  Ben lead the charge behind the Hillman City Collaboratory.  This is a co-working space at the corner of Rainier Ave. S and Orcas.  It's not just any plain old co-working space.  The Collaboratory from day 1 has been and continues to be an "incubator for social change".  There is a community pea patch, amazing outdoor event space, giant meeting room, a full kitchen, and a handful of private meeting rooms.  The Collaboratory is dangerous to anyone who doesn't want to challenge the status quo of how multi-cultural communities, in an underserved area of a major metropolitan area,  do life.  It challenges the idea that we should all just stay in our lanes and mind our own business.  It is a breeding ground for breaking down racial divides and doing work that matters in regards to bringing people together.

Ben is in a band with his buddy Joe, and they also go to school and host workshops to teach and explore bluegrass storytelling, music, and musicians.  Even my hometown recognizes Ben's brilliance. They won 1st place in the International Blues festival hosted in Memphis, TN.

Ben is also leading the charge to have Hillman City and Columbia City to be officially recognized as  Arts & Culture districts with the City of Seattle.  He and some friends took over and are renovating an older building across the street from the Collaboratory and rebranding it the Black and Tan Hall.  His non-profit, Community Arts Create, hosts free music classes for middle school and high school kids every Wednesday through December from 4-6.

He has so much going on all the time. He has a healthy tour schedule and is seemingly always on the go.  I don't get to see Ben that often anymore, but I see the effects of his hard work all over this part of town. Ben is the type of person that lights up a room and whenever you get a chance to talk to him about any sort of creative endeavor (your own or his) it's really hard not to get excited. Ben is an instigator in the best of ways. Also, I beat him at Settlers of Catan once.











The next dangerous person I would like you all to meet is Joya Iverson.  You CANNOT stop
Joya.Literally.  She has been hit by 2 different cars.  She overcame major head trauma and after she could get out of bed, walk, and function in her daily life she got straight to work tenaciously pursuing her dream.

What was that dream? Well she's lived in Hillman City for a long time and she wanted to do something for her own community.  She also spent sometime abroad, and fell in love with all things coffee. So she set out to open a coffee shop for Hillman City, since the closest one was actually a pizzeria (Where I worked and met Joya- in between car accidents) 7-10 blocks away.  She opened up down a block and across the street from the Collobabratory.

Dana and I had the honor of stepping in and helping out in the early stages of Tin Umbrella's kickstarter and Go Fund Me campaigns.  I love coming here because as I sit outside at the Hillman City Parklet right outside the shop that wasn't here 3 years ago, I think of how far Tin Umbrella has come since day 1.   It just makes me smile knowing how veraciously Joya loves her community and works every day to better it, one cup of in-house roasted coffee at a time.

She didn't just open up a coffee shop.  She has developed relationships with other local business owners to help everyone really engage and thrive within the Hillman City community.  She has a desire to help others sort out what helps a small business thrive (beyond 7 day work weeks, heart-work, and an incredible amount of strength and resolve that comes with the herculean struggle that comes with forging a new way of interacting with the community.) so that she and her friends can help continue this amazing growth.

Despite how well her business or health are doing (as of writing, both are doing very well!) Joya is a constant source of grace and joy (pun only slightly intended).  Seeing how much she's grown and all of the exciting things that she has done with the shop and the community is incredibly inspiring to me.  Joya is a true delight and every time I get to see her I am encouraged and excited for both her and what the future has in store for Hillman City

So there is something brewing in Hillman City (pun intended). Some would say it's gentrification seeping southward.  (There is a pet grocery store closer than a human grocery store) and I wouldn't argue that, however I do know that every time I am in Hillman City I feel this unique energy.  I wrote a chapter or 2 of my book at Tin Umbrella.  I occasionally peruse for rental listings down here because i would love to live down here.  So, do I lock my doors and worry about getting robbed in this "dangerous" part of town?  Eh, not really.  I actually do more creative work and think outside of the box, when it comes to my writing and the direction I'm going in my life, when I sit down and enjoy my favorite little corner of Seattle.

So if anyone reading this is in Seattle, go to Hillman, check out what's going on, because there is much more than just these 2 things.  There is more than I can write on in one blog post.  Hillman City, feels like a place where anyone from anywhere could be welcomed and feel a part of the community - if they got out and engaged with it.  Just watch out for those movers and shakers, like Ben and Joya, they might just get you excited enough to pursue something that you are passionate about or get you to help them help others.

I am eating fat to help me not be fat.

I think I mentioned this in a previous post, but I wanted to dedicate a whole post to the crazy diet that Dana and I will be on for (at least) the next 30 days.

We are trying the Ketogenic Diet. This means that we will be eating a lot of (smart) fats, moderate protein, and very little carbs (the carbs that come from leafy green vegetables).  Some people say the Keto diet is like a paleo diet on a diet.  Another fair comparison is the Atkins diet.  So let's see... What are we eating you may ask?  here's just a few things

• Grass-fed Butter 
• Coconut Oil
• Avocado Oil
• Olive Oil
• Pork Belly
• Prosciutto
• Creme Fraiche (Dana refers to Creme Fraiche as "food of the gods" it's SOOOO delicious)
• Mayonnaise (yes I have gotten over my hatred for Mayo for the sake of my own health)
• Cottage cheese
• Cheese & eggs
• Pork (yay bacon!), chicken, beef (grass fed & organic when possible)
• Broccoli, Cauliflower Zucchini, steamed mixed greens
• Salmon salmon salmon (Wild caught & organic)

That's most of it so fair.  We need to go to the grocery store and get some almond flour since that is ok on the Keto diet.   So what aren't we eating?

• Bread
• Rice
• Pasta
• Sugar (or it's cousins Maple Syrup, Agave Syrup, and Honey)
• Potatoes
• Most fruits (strawberries and blueberries are ok since they have a very low sugar content and are fairly nutrient dense.)

That's basically it.  It's been a week  and a half so far and I've lost ~10 lbs, however I'm not really scale watching. Let me try to explain what this diet does, and then I'll get into why we chose it.

So what does this diet do? Well the Ketogenic diet basically trains your body to burn ketones (which are made from your fat stores) for it's energy.  By depriving the body of glucose, your body looks for it's secondary energy source which is fats.  The reason our body stores fat is for when we can't find food, we can still live long enough to find food by burning the excess energy our body can produce by burning it's fat stores.  Our fat storage is like a extra gas can in the back of the truck, if that gas can somehow magically make your car run on diesel and overall be more efficient.  Some of the benefits of keto are that your brain runs more efficiently on ketones than on glucose so alot of people report on feeling more clear minded and sharp and its been known to be a great help for those suffering from Alzheimer's or dementia.  By moderating proteins and not taking in any glucose, you do alot to help your body become less insulin resistant so it can help reverse type II diabetes (although ketoacidosis is a very really danger for those with type II diabetes and a ketogenic diet should only be attempted under close watch from a medical professional).  It removes most inflammatory foods out of your diet so it's known to help with arthritis or tendinitis.  It's been known to treat, and in some cases cure, childhood epilepsy because of it's positive affect on the brain.

Some of you might be saying, Sam, you don't have childhood epilepsy, Alzheimer's, type II diabetes or arthritis.  Why would do such a crazy restrictive diet?  Well I'd be willing to bet that I am pre-diabetic (I haven't been checked or it)  The more and more I read about this diet the less reasons I had to not do it.  Dana was on board pretty quickly, but I wanted to do more research so I bought a book, read countless blogs, listening to podcasts, and perused the Keto reddit thread.  I was convinced.  Honestly, it only feels "restrictive" right now because of having to track our macros.  We try to hit a 80% fats 15% protein and 5% carbs (from leafy greens) ratio.  So far it's been hard for me to get my protein intake under 15, but I'm getting better at it day by day. 

I've decided on tracking my progress in the following way:  Pants.

I have 4 categories of pants right now.  As I progress in weight loss and waist inches loss I will move along into different categories of pants. 

Category 1:  current pants-  These are pants I wear now that are either a little big or fit just right on me.  work khakis, 2 pairs of jeans, work grey pants

Category 2:  Almost pants-  These are pants that I could wear to work in a pinch, but are a bit to tight for my liking.  another pair of khakis and a pair of blue slacks I bought 2-3 months ago that I even got hemmed to fit my hobbit legs, but are just too tight in the waste to be comfortable

Category 3:  2010 pants:  I would say the most in shape I've been in my life was 2010.  I was dating a woman who runs long distances, and when we broke up I started to work out for like 3 months.   I still have 2 pairs of pants from then.  1 pair of jeans, and 1 pair of brown plaid pants

Category 4:  Juice fast pants-  I lost so much weight on the juice fast that almost all of my pants I had looked ridiculous so I had to buy a few new pairs.  1 pair of mustard yellow pants 1 pair of dark grey work pants, and 1 light blue capris (we went to Europe; don't judge me).

This was me right after my juice fast.  The most svelt I've been in my life. 

I think I'll be fully into category 2 by next week.   I'll keep you updated on my current pants situation. I can't wait to be able to button those ridiculous yellow pants again.   Wish Dana and I luck, and please let me know if you have any tips or questions in regards to the Keto diet.  The more I talk about it and research it the better I can understand it's affect on my body.

Stay tuned, I'm really excited for next week's post:  Where is Hillman City?

I didn't give up!

Don't worry! I didn't give up! I did start to feel bad that I hadn't written anything in almost 2 weeks, but to be fair I was in New Orleans for a week, and didn't have much time to sit down and write (even though I did have the romantic notion of writing a post sitting outside on the patio of Cafe du Monde while eating beignets and drinking chicory coffee.)

Me, Dana Jill, Erika, Ben, Trey, Molly, Mom and Dad. 

So my brother found an amazing woman and somehow convinced her to marry him.  Erika and Ben have the same brand of weird, and it is a delight to be around the two of them.  Any of you in Hattiesburg, MS should count yourself lucky.  These two are a fantastic pair and I couldn't be more happy for both of them.

I've been thinking a lot about Ben this past week.  I wasn't exactly sure who the best man was before getting to New Orleans (it's not neccesarily out of character for my brother to have forgotten to ask someone, and technically I didn't really have an official best man at my wedding) and honestly didn't really find out until the rehearsal.  I wasn't the best man, I was second in the line up, which in no way hurt my feelings.  The only reason I mention it is because I was unsure whether or not I was going to have to give a speech.  I wasn't super worried given my love for storytelling and love for my brother (plus it was an open bar so all of that bodes well for an ad lib'd speech at a wedding), regardless though I wanted to be prepared.  So I'll use this to share some of the thoughts that I was going to share if I did have to give a speech (turns out no one gave speeches, which was for the best, I think).

Me and Molly goofing off while Ben's stomach was in knots before the ceremony

There are tons of stories I could tell about my little brother.  I could talk about when we were all little bitty kids and Molly and I covered him in flour and put him in the kitchen cabinets (and he LOVED it).  I could talk about how he used to pee in our closet for fun when we shared a room growing up.  I could talk about when he had long hair and Molly and I used to roll his hair up in the windows of the car  or make him go get the mail when we got home from school and then lock all the doors so he couldn't get back inside.  Molly and I also helped him finally pronounced the word crayon (kray-on) which he originally pronounced "crown" by mercilessly making fun of him until he changed.

However despite all of those things, I want to talk about hospitality.  I can remember one year  Ben had a sleep over for one of his birthday parties.  It was the next morning and we were all downstairs watching TV.  Mom came into the living room and asked Ben if his guests were hungry.  When she said this, the boys all perked up excited for some sort of breakfast.  Ben turned to them and said," Oh yeah, uh... There's food in the kitchen.."  Disappointed, none of his friends moved towards the kitchen. They just sat there and continued to watch TV.  They hadn't been over to the house many times before so they didn't know where anything was.  Mom quickly told Ben to get off his ass and to go get some cereal bowls down and show them where everything is, and he hopped to.

We hid Ben in the bathroom while
Erika was coming up the elevator

Fast forward a decade or so and Ben finds his passion.  If you have sat at his bar, in his section, or just talked to him about cocktails you already know that he just lights up.  He genuinely wants to take care of people and make sure that they are having a good time.  As a restaurant manager, I can tell you, this is rare, and is nearly impossible to train someone who doesn't have that natural desire.

I was talking to Kathryn, one of Erika's bridesmaid who lives in Manhattan.  She was telling me a story of when Ben and Erika went to visit her.  She shared that any time someone makes it out there to visit her, she feels obligated to show them parts of the city that the person would enjoy, and that varies from person to person, but either way she's a good host and gives her friends a taste of the Big Apple.  She said the only time that she didn't do that was when they came.  The reason being was that Ben and Erika took her out.  Ben did the research.  They took her to places they had only vaguely heard of, and they had an amazing time.  He knew what bars to go to, which bartenders were working where and, what restaurants that they needed to hit up while in New York.  So Ben gave Kathryn a taste of New York that she hadn't even experienced before.  

AMAZING charcuterie from Primitivo in New Orleans

I'm sure that any of you who don't live in New Orleans have gotten some sort of suggestion from Ben or Erika on spots you have to hit and how amazing the food is. Ben has probably talked to you about the line of products that he represents (shout out to Giffard's).  Erika has a spreadsheet, of restaurants and bars that they have been to, so that she can make suggestions on where to go in New Orleans for great food and great atmosphere.

I am amazed at the man that my brother is becoming. There was a period of time where he almost died a couple times due to a duck, and some heart problems, and mom and dad have almost killed him too many times to count.  So to see that he has found his bride, and has pledged to take care of her as they grow together through sickness and health, richer or poorer is mindblowingly amazing.  Erika you are in good hands, and I am so glad that you have joined our crazy family.
I told my brother that marriage is the hardest thing he'll ever do, and the best thing he'll ever do.  Here's to the hard times, and the best times.  Cheers to Ben and Erika.

WAKE UP

Lately I've been fired up.  I've felt awake.  "What are you fired up about Sam?" you might be asking me.... Well the answer isn't that simple.

I spend too much time on my phone.  I spend to much time on Netflix.  Dana can confirm both of these facts.  Before a few weeks ago, my days off consisted primarily of doing laundry, cooking, and watching Netflix.  I'd sit on our couch (which is where I'm sitting right now typing this) and just veg out non-stop;  finish whole seasons of shows (Limitless the TV series, Netflix's Voltron, Penny Dreadfuls etc.) or sometimes re-watch movies I've already seen (The Matrix trilogy for example).  While watching these movies I would play a Marvel game (Contest of Champions) and a Star Wars game (Galaxy of Heroes) along with the normal Facebooking. I wasn't even pay attention to the movies!   

Even while I've been sitting here, I've checked Facebook and Instagram twice, watched Bad Lip Reading NFL 2016 (very funny) and started listening to a podcast about fantasy football.

None of these things are bad in and of themselves.  What I have come to realize is that I have been asleep.  I stay distracted.  Why?  That's what I'm trying to figure out here today.  

Why is it that when there is an infinite amount of information out there for me to learn, hobbies out there for me to tackle, and people out there that need someone to talk to or tell their story to, I am watching 30 Rock for the 3rd time (btw Toofer follows me on Twitter!) I love all of those things.  In fact the joy that I get out of the those games and re-watching Fieval Goes West or Ant Man pales in comparison to the joy I get when I sit down, do the work, and realize that I can be out of debt in 5-6 years.  By a long shot.  

I am beginning to do things differently.  I'm researching.  Historically I'm not a detail oriented person.  I am more excited by the big picture ideals that guide, inspire, promote, and communicate the "why" behind things.  The details are more about the "what".  Why someone does what they do is more interesting that what they actually do.  I can easily listen to someone talk about their passion for accounting and how they love when the data of a system comes together to paint a picture of what is going on.  When they get into explaining what that data looks like, or how they put the puzzle pieces together, that's when they start to lose me.  

SO there are a few things (you will hear more about in future posts, but I'll tease them here), that I have been digging deep into, because I think they might be right for me and that is Crossfit and the Ketogenic diet.  I'm not going to be trying them all at once, I would probably turn into a monster for a few weeks having to transition from basically inactive and somewhat paleo to high intensity, constantly varied, functional movement (kick your ass into shape) type workouts and a diet that consists of high fats, low carbs, and moderate proteins in a hyper regulated fashion.  

I am still more excited about why I am going to do both things, but because I am actually doing the research about what I'll be doing, how I'll be doing it and what kind of results I can expect (details!!) I am even more thrilled to start trying these new things.  

So back to the question at hand.  Why have I been so willingly distracted from the things that I know would  help my financial, physical and marital health??  I have been asleep.  It is becoming easier and easier to distract myself with little things here and there so that I can avoid addressing my real life major issues like debt, fitness, or growth (personally and professionally).  It's self sabotage.

Playing games on my phone and watching tv is the easy way out.  It's lazy, and I'm tired of dedicating hours of my life to them.  It reminds me of that saying, "Guns don't kill people; people kill people".  It's not these apps, movies, tv's shows, fantasy football teams, or podcasts that are causing me to ignore my issues, they are merely the vehicle I am using to ignore them with.  Once again, much like in my last post, It's me!  I'm the one who is choosing a phone app over learning more about healthy eating or connecting with my wife.  I'm over here watching Pokemon when I could be learning Spanish so that I could understand how much crap the kitchen staff at work is talking about me (That's my main motivation behind learning Spanish).

So as of today, I'm waking up.  I think this awakening started with this blog.  I made time to actually pursue something that I know I love doing.  It's time to wake up and get healthy.  I needed to nurture my creative health.  Thank you for reading these posts.  Even if you don't comment or like it on Facebook, know that by reading any of my posts, you've encouraged me to keep on doing this.  You've encouraged me to keep writing, keep pushing, and to put my stupid phone down.

I promise this won't turn into a Crossfit or healthy diet blog; it will probably just be what it's been so far;  me telling you stories (I have considered doing interviews and posting them on here... let me know if you'd be interested in that type of content.)  Thanks for the encouragement.  Thanks for the wake up call.

Time to get to work.  

My Debt Story

I just watched the documentary "Inequality For All". It's basically Rob Reich (former secretary of Labor under Bill Clinton) discussing and explaining the growing income inequality and how we got here.  He's a professor now (amongst other things) and the film is framed by different sessions of his lectures in this auditorium filled lecture hall at U.C. Berkeley.  The film ended on a uplifting note with him, saying "I believe in you."

When he said that, I started weeping.  The film is good, very informative, and I would recommend it to anyone who is curious about income/wealth inequality (It's on Amazon Prime right now), but it wasn't life changing information.  It was just another film trying to explain how screwed the system is.  

So, I'm sitting there crying after this guy who I have barely heard of (I probably saw him on the Daily Show at some point) tells me that he believes in me.  WTF??  Dana came over and patted my back and asked me if I'm ok.  I have no idea why I was sobbing into my shirt.  So I took a shower.  I got out of the shower still not knowing why I was so bummed out, so I'm going to use this post to try and figure it out, in the best way I know how:  Storytelling.  

My debt story starts probably around the time I started working.  I worked the concession stands at the little league baseball fields in Southaven, MS.  I then worked at Schlotsky's, Wal-Mart, Lakeshore UMA (church camp), Domino's, a brief stint as a youth group director, and then back into the restaurant industry. At one time I held down 3 jobs averaging 65-70 hours a week.  As of writing this, I have been in the work force for roughly 15 years, with only a few weeks/months where I was looking for work (when I moved to Seattle, when I moved back home from Wabash). In those 15 years I have managed to save roughly..... ZERO dollars.  I worked so I could spend.  I had a book of DVD's (thanks to the $5 bin at Wal-mart) Xbox, big TV, and would do whatever I wanted with my money.  I didn't want to save it. In my head, saving meant not spending, and spending money happened to be my favorite thing to do.  

When it came time to choose a college, I chose Wabash College.  It was pretty expensive, but when I visited campus, it felt right, and if you know anything about me, feelings reign supreme.  So what did we do so that I could go there?  We did what anyone else does who wants to go to a school and didn't get a full-ride scholarship does:  get a student loan.  One loan lead to two, two lead to three, and so on and so forth.  I also discovered that if you requested a private student loan you could ask for more than just tuition, so I added the price of a new computer into the cost of the loan.  I didn't even look at interest rates or repayment terms, deferment options, or anything of that nature.  All I knew was that I needed this money to go to school, and this was the way to get it.

I want to go back in time and just slap 18-22 year old Sam (and maybe tell him to buy stock in Apple, Google, and Amazon)

After 2 years, I transferred to University of Memphis.  Memphis State.  Tiger High.  It was time to come home.  I was excited because my best friend was also moving back home and transferring to UM.  We got an apartment in Hernando, and life was good.  This was one of the first times I had bills to pay.  So I had to start figuring that out, but it was pretty easy since our rent was cheap, and I was working a lot.

I did this thing in college where I would do pretty well one semester, and the next semester I would not go to class.  At one point, twice a week here was my schedule:

5AM:  open Lil Eccletic on Harbortown on Mud Island
9AM: Class
11ish-  Go home, let the dog out, shower, maybe eat.
1PM: Class
3PM: Class
5PM: Work at Corkscrew Wine & Spirits
10PM: Close down the shop, go let the dog out, go out with friends or go to my girlfriend's house.
12-1AM:  crash.

So the probability that I showed up to that 9am class was REALLY low. The fact that I don't even remember which class that was tells you; I definitely failed that one.  I also would develop a insane case of procrastination when it came to final papers.  Like, I wouldn't start to actually write them until the day after they were due.  Come finals time I would pull all-nighters, and start and finish 3 different papers within a 48 hour period.  The quality of those papers were just about what you would expect from a sleep deprived 20 something year old barista cracked out on red bull and an ungodly amount of black coffee.

It turns out that the University of Memphis doesn't really allow you to continue to suck at school.  When your GPA dips below a certain point, you get an Academic Warning.  This means if your GPA doesn't increase to a certain level, then you will go on Academic Suspension.  That means you can't take classes at UM for a semester, and you might have to go take some classes at another school in order to improve your GPA and then re-apply to the Memphis.  This whole process was called "Academic Probation"

My GPA would bounce back and fourth,  I got 2 Academic Warnings.  After the first one, I took less classes that semester,  knocked out some easy classes (A+ in Golf!) and got my grades up above the required level, but I was still on academic probation for a year.  Well the next semester I did terrible, and got another warning, and then followed that semester with an equally bad semester.  Hello Academic Suspension...

So before all that, my loan servicers (Sallie Mae, AES and Wells Fargo) would send me balance summaries or bills, or delinquent notices just about every few weeks.  It was a mixture of "HEY! YOU OWE US!" Or "HEY, YOU'RE GOING TO OWE US!!"  I would say that I opened about 1 in 5  of those letters in the mail, and phone call wise, I would answer 1 in 10 phone calls.  I would get angry on the phone with them, tell them to leave me alone, and hang up.  The most ineffective strategy to get out of debt possible:  IGNORANCE.

So back to being suspended.  I took some time off from school and moved to Seattle to intern with Jeff Bettger at Artist Reformation.  I found a good job, met Dana Jill, got married, went into management.  I started making a lot of adult decisions during this period of my life.  Once I was out of school for 6 months all of my loans began the repayment process.  This meant that the phone calls and letters amped up, and became truly overwhelming.  I opened all the letters this time, answered all the calls.  This time I wouldn't get angry with the person on the other end of the phone; I would get angry with myself.  I developed a pattern where I wouldn't think about how much debt I would just go on living my life, paying what I could, and going late or delinquent on the rest of them.  This strategy was also not very effective,  because I couldn't maintain.  When I would total up how much I owed, I would get depressed, angry, and hopeless.  I didn't want to feel any of those emotions, so I would just do what I could, when I could, and that's all there was to it.

I would tell Dana that we will basically be in debt until I was dead.  This is not a very encouraging thing to say to your wife.  It's also a childish thing to believe.  That statement was both ignorant and immature.  It basically means, "I don't know how to solve this problem, and I don't care enough to try and figure it out or ask for help".  When THAT reality set in, I was shaken to the core.  I'm a grown-ass man.  I solve problems all the time.  This was just another really expensive, really complicated problem, that I needed to strategize and attack.  So I woke up.

I made the first spreadsheet that I still update to this day.  It's title is "Financial Slavery." It has every bit of information from my loans possible.  Interest rates, due dates, deferment/forbearance options, accrued interest, who owns it, is it late? How late? I look at this spreadsheet once a week, update totals, and celebrate the small wins.

Celebrating small wins is KEY in this strategy because they come so rarely.  2 years ago I consolidated 8 different loans into 2, last year I finally paid my car loan off, and in 2 weeks I am absolutely overjoyed to say that the first of my 10 loans will be completely paid off.

So to wrap this all up and make some sense out of the tears that were streaming down my face, there is this:  As much as I can research how totally screwed up the student loan/college tuition system is in this country (and it absolutely is 1.2 TRILLION dollars in student debt and college tuition has increased over ~260% in the past 20 years) my overall realization is that, in my case, there is only one person that is to blame.  ME.  Sam Hatch.  I am the one who sought out the loans.  I am the one who went to school for way too long, didn't take it seriously, and didn't realize how much money I borrowed and wasted.  Im the one who got kicked out of school.  I am the one who didn't make payments.  I am the one who still has not saved a single penny.

So maybe I was crying as a way of mourning the last hints of ignorance that I had towards my own debt situation.  Maybe I was crying because I am inspired to do better, be better, and get out of debt.  Or maybe someone was just cutting onions near by.  Whatever it was, I want you all to know this.  I am 29 years old.  I have a good job, a good wife, and a good life.  I am so in, 5 digits worth of, student loan debt.

That 5 used to be 6.  My credit rate has continued to improve over the last 12 months.  My debt does not define me.  It doesn't hold me back from being the man that God wants me to be.  It is just another problem that I am, continuously, looking for better and better solutions to.  When I read that there is 1.3 trillion dollars in student loans debt, I was both amazed and comforted.  I am not alone.  I want everyone out there that is struggling to pay Navient, or Sallie Mae, or whoever else, know that you are not alone.  Your debt does not define you.  Sure it makes life a little tougher, but you CAN make it through.

Dana Jill is the editor of almost all of my posts.  I have a serious tense shift problem and my grammar isn't the best.  After proofing this entry, before posting, she told me, "It makes me feel safer that you are actively pursuing getting out of debt.  I felt like your attitude before was 'it'll all be fine' and you were just ignoring the problem."  This is what it's all about.  I needed to grow up and address the issue.  My wife feels safer; I feel more responsible and less defeated.

I am on track to being completely out of debt in the next 8-10 years.  Don't ignore it.  Tackle it head on and don't forget that you are not alone.

I Almost Died Vol. 2

The first car that was ever fully mine (not shared with my mom like the purple intrepid) was a gold 2001 Ford Explorer.  A few weeks into driving the explorer, I was on my way to give blood.  I took a left turn and got hit in the front and it spun me around.  Nothing crazy traumatic; They were speeding.  No one was harmed; they were trying to blame me for dents in their hood on the opposite side of where they hit me.  It ended up being their fault (I think), and I ended up giving blood later that week.  That's not the incident I wanted to tell you about today.  The next time I almost died was a few years later.

I lived in Cordova, TN with a few friends and I was working at Republic Coffee in Memphis.  At this point I had mostly opening shifts which means I was charged with the distinct pleasure of waking up at an ungodly hour of the morning to caffeinated midtown Memphis.  My drive to work was normally about 30-40 minutes depending on traffic, and mostly all on this interstate.  I had to be at work at 5am to open up at 6.


This was during the winter, and normally Memphis winters are cold, but not crazy cold and everyone loses their minds when it snows because it happens so rarely.  This was an icy morning, so I was taking it slow on the way to work (I learned my lesson!). Even though waking up at 4 was part of my regular routine, I had a tendency of staying up too late.  In fact, sometimes when I got to work, I would turn the espresso machine on, brew coffee, count the drawer, unlock the door, and lay down in a booth and take a short nap because it was rare that anyone came in before 6:30 and the sound of the squeaky door normally woke me up. So I was easily 3/4 asleep on this particular drive at 4am.  I was heading west on I-40, and there was only a handful of cars on the interstate.

Up ahead of me on the right was a car going as slow as I was.  This section of I-40 was 4 lanes.  I was in the middle left and the other car closest to me was in the middle right minding our own business when, on my left, another car, who for some reason, was flying down the icy interstate at 4 in the morning passed us both.  It startled me, but nothing crazy yet, just your run of the mill asshole nothing to worry about.

A few miles down the road I notice something strange, and sure enough, It was our friend from earlier. He was in the left lane spinning around (very similarly to how I was spinning in the last story).   So I start to slow down even further, however the car ahead of me on the right decided to speed up and get over to the furthest right lane to avoid the guy on the left.  Poor choice... They start to spin out in the far right lane.

So at this point, I'm going about 30 mph, and gripping my steering wheel like somehow, that's going to help me get through this safely.  I can't remember what I was listening to, it was probably Tenacious D or Saul Williams or something loud so I would stay awake on the way to work.  Either way, I am wide eyed, death grip on the wheel, and I just slowly drive past both cars spinning on either side of me.  It all happened so fast and I was not fully awake so it was one of those moments where I didn't even think about what to do and just defaulted to hold on, take it slow, and hope that neither car comes out of the spin to crash into my car and kill everyone involved.

Both cars continued to spin for almost the whole time I could see them in my rear view mirror.  Needless to say I have never been more wide awake for the drive to work in my entire life, and I definitely didn't take a nap when I got into work.  I lived to barista another day, and all was well.

Whew.... I got anxiety just writing about that.

Have you almost died on the road?  Leave a comment below!  I want to hear about it.

A couple of questions

So, I have 2 questions.  These question is from the entire restaurant industry to anyone who has ever done this:

Let's say a restaurant has 20 pristinely clean, empty and ready to be sat tables.  In the smack dab middle of those 20, there is one table with half empty drinks, napkins in the seats of the chairs, check presenter on the table, dirty silverware, and a dessert plate with a half eaten piece of pie on it.

First question:  Part A.  Why is the dirty table the most attractive table to sit at?  Even assuming this restaurant is a "seat yourself" type of place.  Why is that the table that you inevitably seat yourself at? and let's say the restaurant is not a "seat yourself" type of place, (Part B:) why do you seat yourself?  

This behavior consistently baffles me.  Of course as a manager I am dedicated to the guest experience.  So even when guests do this, I either clean the table myself, or send someone directly over to get it cleaned off and bring the table menus.  Hopefully they have a good time, and yes, we should have greeted them at the front door, and the table shouldn't be left dirty, but in the real world, some things get missed.  I'm just curious as to what draws people to the one dirty table in the middle of a room filled with clean ones.

Second Question:  Ok so, let's say there are 2 tables that are exactly the same distance from the door , window, bathrooms, same lighting, same position, they are right next to each other.  Why is it, when the host wants to seat you at one of the two identical tables, you say something along the lines of "Uh... Can we sit there" and point to the other table.  I can fully understand booth vs. table, window seat vs. non-window seat, inside vs. outside, not sitting by the bathroom, kitchen, or any high traffic door, not wanting to sit next to crying baby, or if you want to sit in a particular servers section.  Those requests are what I'm curious about.

You want to sit at the other table, that's fine, by all means, do that. There are very few instances that we won't make that happen for you (We need it for a reservation coming later) The question is WHY??? Here are some things you don't realize:  Maybe that server just got double sat, and you would make it a triple?  (Just have another server take the table). Well, if it was that easy it wouldn't be any trouble at all, however servers are a very territorial crew.  Even if you give 1 table from server A's section to server B, I'm going to hear about it.  OR the poor hosts are going to get barked at, and one of the main things you need a host to do is to smile, and it's hard to do that when you have a bunch of angry servers yelling at you.

Again like I said, I am going to try and do everything in my power to make sure that you have a great time at any restaurant that I am working, however these 2 behaviors genuinely confuse me, and I was hoping that someone out there had a reasonable explanation for them.

So, as you go out to eat this weekend, please realize that these behaviors are at the very least, slightly irrating and most of the time, quite frustrating.  Please avoid them at all cost.  Also know that if you do these things, it's not like we hate your guts or anything, it just that, you are making it a bit more difficult for us to take great care of you.

If you have an answer to any of the question I posed feel free to comment below, Thanks for reading.  

I Almost Died Vol. 1

Lately Dana and I have been experience some really insane traffic incidents where people bust a u-turn right in front of us from a dead stop and almost kill us or we get cut off in traffic, more so than the usual nightmare that is Seattle traffic.  That gave me the idea to tell you all about a few times that I almost died on the road.  So here we go, buckle up!  (Pun absolutely intended)

One of my first jobs was as a sandwich artist at Schlotsky's Deli in Southaven, MS.  I've got stories about that place that I should probably share before I forget but now is not the time.  I was 16 years old, and most of my friends worked at Domino's in Hernando, MS which was about 15-20 down the interstate.  I was a young driver and my parents didn't want me to drive on the interstate, especially when it was raining.  However, on this night the North Mississippi All-Stars were playing a show at the square in Hernando and all my friends were planning on being there, so I told them I'd meet them after I got off work.

Work ran late, so I hopped onto the I-55 south to get down there in time for the last half of the show.  It had started to rain right before I got off work; but it wasn't a bad storm so I figured it wouldn't be a huge deal.  Boy was I wrong.

I was listening to Speakerboxx by Big Boi and cruising down the interstate.  I was going below the speed limit, being cautious, and jamming out because that's a pretty sweet album.  There was a grandma in a grandma type of car, driving like a grandma in front of me.  Seriously going 40 on the interstate!  So I decide to pass her on the left.  I never used to believed it when people told me that the roads are always slicker when it's barely raining because the oil in the asphalt comes to the surface or something along those lines, but I absolutely do now.  I get over into the left lane, and go to pass her. This is a multi-lane interstate divided down the middle by a shallow grassy ditch of a median.  As soon as I get in the left lane and well ahead of the lady (I am going 50, the speed limit is 60 I think... Could have been 55) I hydroplane for the first time in my life.  When your car hyrdoplanes a they tell you not to turn the wheel or hit the breaks just take your foot off the gas and stay straight.  The thing is, I did none of that...  I hit the brakes, and try to get out of the hydroplane which puts in a full horizontal spin.  

<<I like the way you move.... I like the way you move...>>

So I am now spinning clock-wise to the right about to head off the road. When your car is spinning, they tell you to turn into the spin, don't hit the brakes.  The thing is, I did none of that.  I once again press on my brakes and turn the steering wheel to the left.  This somehow caused me to start spinning in the opposite direction, so I am now heading left in a spin.  My car spins into the grassy median, and I look up and all I can see is headlights of oncoming traffic

<<Yell out timber when you fall through the chop shop,  take a deep breathe and exhale...>>

a little light reading...

I wasn't quite into the lane of oncoming traffic, just at the top of the other side of the median.  My car immediately (miraculously) shuts off and roll backwards down to the bottom of the median.  I had such a tight grip on that purple '97 Dodge Intrepid's steering wheel that I remember my hands hurting afterwards.  I tried turning the key again to get it start a few times, no dice.  I also don't know anything about how a car works so I am screwed.  Luckily I lived in Mississippi where you can throw a rock and hit someone who knows how to rebuild a transmission in their garage or reads "How Small Engines Work" for fun in high school (I'm looking at you Joey Treadway).  There was an angel of a man who pulled his big ole pick up truck to the side of the road.  He yells out at me, "ARE YOU OK?" I yell back at him that I'm alright, but I can't get my car to start.  The next part is a blur, but we end up getting my car started somehow.  I turn the car off and put the car in neutral.  I get out and he helps me push it to the top of the median.  He says, "Alright son, when I say GO you smash the gas and get on home now ya hear?"  So I say yes sir,  he waits for traffic to clear and yells out GO so I hit the gas like he told me to.  I scoot on down the interstate; I get off at the next exit and take the back roads all the way home, driving like a grandma the whole way.  

I missed the show, and got home in one piece.  Also, this might be the first time you're hearing about this mom and dad, and so sorry I didn't tell you, I didn't want to lose car privileges, and ultimately everything worked out just fine, so no need to worry you!

Strangely enough I remember never being able to find that CD ever again.  Which I guess if you were going to lose something in a traffic incident like that, that's probably the best case scenario.  

Fear.

I have been thinking about fear lately.  I haven't been feeling like myself for a few weeks, and I realized that fear has been playing a big roll in that.  This is strange for me because in general, I'm not a super fearful person, and for the most part I'd say I'm comfortable being myself.  The past couple weeks have been different.

At first I thought it was stress, new job, new diet, bills, etc.  I tried to address those issues head on.  Scheduled payments, blogged about diet stuff, looked up recipes, started organizing and cleaning stuff at work (this typically always helps me clear my head).  None of which helped for longer than a day or so.  So I was floating through life in the midst of a gray cloud.  I prayed about it before getting out of my car to go to work one day last week and almost immediately as I walked in I realized what my issue had been.

fear

I was afraid of not being good enough, afraid I'd never get out of debt, afraid that my career is stagnating, afraid that I don't have what it takes to excel.  This was the mental cloud surrounding me.  This cloud caused me to keep most people at a distance, overly measure my words and behavior, and become paranoid that people around me were out to get me.  These fears caused me to tell myself lies that, if believed, would cause me to challenge my own idea of who I am.  I was really amazed at how deep I had allowed these lies to permeate my psyche; They were affecting my behavior and decision making.

 It's kind of like when I got glasses, the second time.  

The first time I was prescribed glasses was one week before I left for college.  I didn't have a super strong prescription.  It was just enough to go ahead and get them, after all, I was going to be 8 hours from home and going to a fancy liberal arts college, so better safe than sorry.  There wasn't a huge life changing ordeal like some of you went through when you finally got glasses (like finally being able to see the leaves on a tree)  It was just nice that I didn't get headaches after reading for a long time.  

Fast forward 7 years, 4 sets of frames (either lost or eaten by Lucie), and 3 different insurance changes, It was time for me to find an optometrist in Seattle that I liked.  My friend Hayley went to a place in Wallingford that she likes, and I trust her so I went.  This was the life changing visit I missed out on earlier.  

What Dr. Ono told me was to stop trying to read the chart and to just tell him what I saw.  Every single eye test I had taken in the past I had tried my hardest to "pass" it.  Turns out, it's not that kind of test.  So I just took a deep breathe, sighed and admitted to the doctor that the bottom 2 lines were just blurry spots and the 3rd from the top was only slightly better.  Turns out my vision was worse than I thought but I had spent many years compensating.  I needed progressive lenses.  It's not like I am blind as a bat; I had just learned to deal with the constant dull headache from reading a computer screen for a long time. It was a pain, a struggle, a distraction that I didn't even realize that I was dealing with anymore because it was just always there.  

I miss those sweet blue frames

I calmed down and stop trying to overcome these issues that I had been having, just long enough to admit that I needed help.  Help came, I got the correct prescription, and the headaches went away, I wanted to read more.  It was like a weight that I had forgotten that I was carrying was finally lifted.

My backpack was stolen out of my car last February, and my glasses were in there, so I currently don't have any glasses but that is a different issue.  Back to the situation at hand.

All of these lies and fears had me all twisted up to the point where I was constantly cloudy.  When I walked in to work that day, the skies began to clear.  Did I still have bills?  sadly yes.  Did I still have frustrations at work?  sure did.  None of my problems went away, but they didn't define me.  They didn't control me.  So God answered my prayer with truth and a reminder of who I am.  I'm his, he loves me, and he has put me in the world, in Seattle, at my job, in my community, for a reason.  I believe that reason is to help people.  It's a perfectly vague purpose to hold onto, because I can connect with it no matter where I am.  It's especially perfect for being in the service industry because when you get down to the basics, is literally serving others.

So to get out of this funk, I have been trying to help people more often, and as I'm writing this today, I'm feeling much better.  Now I just need to get a new pair of glasses.

So, fight fear with truth.  Have a fantastic week!

Crazy Carol and the Marine (and other excerpts from my novel that actually happened)

In November of 2015 I participated in NaNoWriMo, which is National write a novel in a month, month.  I got a random hankering to do it, and so 2 weeks before it started I still didn't know what I was going to write about, and then finally it struck me.  Write what you know... So I wrote my first draft of Confessions of a Restaurant Manager.  It's a fictionalization of my career where most of the characters represent someone I know or have worked with, names changed, and most of the events in the book actually happened to me.  It was really fun to write and eventually I will get around to editing and publishing.

Since it's almost the weekend, I thought I would share some of the funnier moments in the book. A few notes.  Anything said inside <<...>> is being sad by another person over a radio that's in my ear.  I changed pizza to burger for the book. I have barely started the editting process, so please excuse any grammatical errors, and for the storytellers out there I'm always welcome to feedback!  Both of these events actually happened to me, and I exaggerated very little in the retelling of each tale.  Here is Crazy Carol and the Marine:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking in is a short thin normal looking woman, brown hair, wearing a scarf, has money in her hand.  It’s crazy Carol!  Except at this point we don’t know that Carol is crazy.  She’s here to pick up an order of Lasagna to-go.  She pays and starts eying the gelato case.  She asks for samples of gelato (the Gelato case is brilliantly positioned right by the front door for this very reason).  I give her a sample of strawberry and of lemon while she’s waiting for Heidi to box up the lasagna.

“Oh my goodness, I’m in heaven, this is SOOO good.”

“Would you like a scoop?  I can put it in a container to go for you.”

Pretty normal so far….

“yeah I’ll take a scoop of each. How much are they?”

“$3 per scoop”

I scoop it out, put them in a to-go bowl and ring her up.  She hands me $3 crumpled up dollar bills.

“Alright, here you go, the total is  $6.57 after tax”

She calmly hands me 1 more crumpled up dollar bill out of the wad of cash in her hand and looks up at me.

“Ok, we’ve got $4 so far, I just need $2.57 more.”

She counts out $1.30 in coins and slides them over to me on the counter.   Looks up at me again.

“alright, almost there, just need a little more…”

“Oh nevermind, looks like I don’t have enough.”

“Well, that’s alright, I tell you what, I’m feeling good today; One scoop is on me! It’s already scooped up for you anyways!”

She then slowly starts to walk backwards towards the door.  Heidi comes up with her lasagna and is unsure what to do with it since Carol is walking backwards towards the door with a weird look on her face.  I look over at Heidi and with my eyes and a head gesture tell her to leave the lasagna up here, and I’ll take care of it.

Carol starts to wave her hands and shake her head and say, “No, no, No, that’s weird..I can’t, I just can’t”

I still have her money and lasagna in my hand.  I try to reassure her that it’s perfectly fine.

“it’s ok, I’m a manager here.  You enjoyed the gelato so much, I just want you to have it.”

“This is weird, I can’t….. I can’t…. no, no no”  Shaking her head waving her hands out in front of her.

“Well ok, umm… at least take your money back and you’ve already paid for the lasagna.  I’m sorry if I upset you.”  I slide the lasanga and the money to the edge of the counter.

She is at the front door now, turns towards the door and grabs the handle.  She quickly snaps her head back towards me and looks at the lasagna and her crumpled pile of cash and coins on the counter.  I step back from the counter with the gelato in my hand.

She then bolts for the counter, and grabs all of cash and her lasagna as if she’s stealing it and runs out the door.   Heidi and Erica are watching from afar.

<<What the hell was that?>>

<<I have no idea, I just tried to give her gelato since she apparently has problem with math or  not sure how money works or something….>>

<<I don’t think that’s her only problem…. Oh well hey, you should get out of here, I’m good to go.>>

I grab a lid for the Gelato.  I’m taking it home.  Free Gelato is free gelato, It’d be a travesty to let it go to waste!

Before I can step away from the host desk in walks a scruffy looking black dude wearing a big jacket and carrying a grocery bag filled with God knows what.  He makes a B-line to table 4.

“Hello Sir, How can I help you today?”  I “politely” yell as he barrels past me.

He mumbles something along the line of “It’s ok, I know these guys”

Table 4 is a 2-top.  Young couple, looks like they are on a date, enjoying their meal.  I make eye contact with the lady at the table since she looks up at this guy who is rushing to get to their table. They do NOT know him.   So I almost leap over the counter to hustle my way over to table 4 to try and diffuse the situation before it starts.

He makes it to the table; I’m one step behind him.

“Hey sir, how can I help you today?”

“I’m hungry.” As he is angrily pointing to their food.

“Oh ok, well I’m pretty sure they are enjoying that food, lets get you a table and a menu.”

I try to walk him over to a table far away from the young couple and grab a menu on the way.

He keeps pointing at their food as I am trying to gentle turn him away from table 4.
I open the menu, and try to point out some of my favorites.  We are about 3 steps away from the young couple at this point.  He’s not buying it.

“I DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY”  he shouts as he starts to puff his chest out at me.

“You know what sir, that’s fine.  You’re hungry, and I’ve got a kitchen.  Lets get you a burger on me.”

At this point we are about 4 steps away from table 4 which as far as I could get him.   He starts pounding his feet and slapping his chest with one hand while he still holds onto his grocery bag.

“I’M A MARINE! I DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY”

At this point, he’s standing as close to me as Kevin was to Heidi earlier and I can smell liquor, sweat, and general funkiness.   I am about 90% sure that he is going to swing on me.  So I start to bow my chest out, standing taller, planting my feet, and try everything to look like I could handle myself in a fight (which is totally not true, the last fight I got in was in middle school).

“Ok sir, You’re now causing a scene and I’m going to need to ask you to leave.”

“I’M A MARINE!” pounds chest.  I surprise myself by not flinching.  I am ready to get punched in the face.  He leans even closer to me, I stand tall.

“Sir, I don’t want to have to call the authorities, please leave.”

He deflates a bit and walks past me towards the door body checking me into a near by counter.  Tripping on chairs, tables and lastly the host desk on his way towards the door

“America is SHIT because of people like YOU” he shouts in between stomping more and hissing.  He throws the door open, give me the finger and runs out into the night.

I take a deep breathe, shake it off and calmly head towards table 4 to help them process what just happened.

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yes, this actually happened to me, both people in one night came in with about 30 minutes in between each incident. Next up, is another true story of one of the worst messes I've ever had to clean up.  You asked for this Jamison! Also a true story.  Another Note: in the story the Protagonist is named Andy, and that character is basically me.  Brian is Andy's Boss.  On this day in the story I was a mid manager who finds himself still there at closing time.

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<<Hey Andy, what’s your 20?  We’ve got a situation in the bathroom.>>

I know I’m trying to stay positive, but at the end of a busy-ish Friday night those are not the words I want to be hearing.  I shouldn’t even be here right now, and I DEFINIETLY don’t want to solving any “situations” in the bathroom.  

<<Um… I’ll be right over>>

I make my way over to the bathroom.  I see Marvin over there shaking his head and holding his nose, Kevin has his face in his palm, and Brian has his ear to the bathroom door.  What am I walking into?

“Ok Marvin, tell Andy what’s going on over here”

“So you know the guy that comes in all the time carrying a plastic grocery bag with bottles of Sprite and sleeves of oreos?”

I’m know exactly who he’s talking about.  He makes just about everyone uncomfortable.  He isn’t all there mentally, but he’s cognoscente enough to come in to a restaurant and order.  He normally has enough cash to pay, so we let him come in.  He has a tendency to wander around the restaurant talking to all the little kids in the place which is what makes most of the staff uncomfortable, so we generally try to always seat him in the bar area so that this is less of a problem.  Strange fellow.  

“Oh yeah that guy… is he stuck in the bathroom or something?”

“He’s been in there for about an hour and a half.  He’s talking and singing to himself a lot and it smells like a dirty foot covered in road kill that got set on fire.  I want to die just standing near the stench”

Luckily my sniffer is still malfunctioning due to lingering effects from the flu or whatever I had.  

“So, what do you need me for?”

Brian comes over to the huddle.  “Oh, Hey Andy, can you stand here and make sure this guy is not dead?  Kevin and I need to start the closing duties.  I’m going to go check the kitchen out while Kevin starts counting money.  Let us know when he comes out.  If he doesn’t come out in the next 10 minutes we need to start knocking on the door and potentially calling an ambulance.”

“AN AMBULANCE?  You should call Ghostbusters because whatever it is that just left this guy’s body is going to haunt this place for years to come.”

“Marvin, let’s go do your cash-out.  Andy’s got this situation handled.”

How did I just get volunteered for weird-guy-stuck-in-the-bathroom duty?  Oh well.  Knowing Brian, he’ll probably buy me a drink or something on down the road to make up for it.  Jill is probably already asleep so I don’t mind staying; I just hope I’m not on the cleaning crew for this.

“The guy hasn’t paid his bill yet, I can’t cash out.”

“You know what, I’m going to comp his bill.  Judging by the sound and smell of it, this guy is having a rougher than normal night.”

Kevin and Marvin make their way to the back register to cash-out and start counting money.  I hear the guy starting to whistle.  So creepy.

KNOCK KNOCK

“SIR, ARE YOU OK IN THERE?”

“um…. I’m not to sure about that to be honest.  I seemed to have gotten some mess on my britches.  I have a spare pair in my bag, If someone could bring me my bag I really would be much obliged.”

I go grab his things, and I knock on the door again.  I hold my breathe just in case my nose started to work again.  He cracks the door and his long thin wrinkled fingers poke out and grabs the handles of the grocery bag from me and shuts the door behind him.  I hear the click of the lock on the door.   

“Doing alright in there sir?  We are closing up for the night.”  

“Well I hate to admit it, but I made a real mess in here my friend.  I’ve got these stomach problems you see, and something I ate must have just messed me up real good.  I tried to clean it up and I’m afraid I just made it worse.  These stomach problems.  They make for some really hard BM’s.  My doctor told me to stay away from cheese, it’s just so hard because damn near everything has cheese on it.  I haven’t had a BM in over 2 weeks now.  The last time I was on the toilet in my apartment, the toilet broke on me and my landlord refuses to come and fix it.  It’s rough I tell you, rough.”

Why he felt the need to tell me all about his BM history I have no idea, but wow, I learned way more than I bargained for.  I’m starting to smell the death that is inside that door and I can only imagine the “mess” that he has made.  I think about just leaving and letting Kevin deal with it.  I decide to stick around and stay the course; it’s already making for a great story. 

“Well ok sir, Don’t worry about the clean up, we’ll take care of that.  Why don’t you go ahead and come out since we are closing up for the night.”

“Are you sure?  I can stick around and help clean if you’d like and I haven’t paid my bill yet.”

“We took care of your pizza tonight sir, it’s our pleasure.  Don’t worry about the mess.  We’ll clean it up.”

He cracks the door open.  A giant poisonous wave of putrid stench escapes from the bathroom.  I use all of my energy and power to focus on not throwing up.  I force a half smile.  He emerges from the bathroom wearing a pair of ill-fitting sweatpants and he’s got his “messy britches” in the grocery bag.  He’s got socks and sandals on and his glasses are on crooked.  He looks like he’s been through hell and back.  I escort him to the front door.  The whole walk to the door he is recounting the tale of his doctor, the landlord and more nitty gritty details about his bowel movements that no one would ever want to know, but I guess it’s the only thing he can think to talk about on this awkward walk.  He thanks me for the meal, and apologizes some more.  

As soon as we get him out the door, I turn to Kevin and we paper-rock-scissors for who is going in there first.  He throws scissors and I go with paper.  I cover my mouth and nose and open the door to assess the damage.  

It looks like a port-o-potty at a music festival.  It’s such a mess that it’s genuinely confusing as to how he had this much inside of his frail old body, how it left him so vilolently, and how he made it out alive  The mess combined with the stench stuns me like tear gas at the WTO riots.  I immediately stumble out of the bathroom.  I absolutely cannot leave this mess for the morning cleaning crew to clean up, and I feel like it would be inhumane to ask anyone on staff to clean this up, so I swallow my pride and decide that I need to clean it up.  I go to the back and put on already used chef’s coat and apron and tie a clean rag around my nose and mouth like I’m robbing a train.  I’m not trying to get any of this guy’s mess on my clothes.  The toilet isn’t broken, but the dark brown water has overflowed onto the floor and for some inexplicable reason there is smear marks on the walls near the toilet.  The plunger and toilet brush are laying on the ground in the corner by the sink as if they were weapons that ran out of ammo.  The sink has soiled paper towels in it and the trash can has the same swear marks as the walls do.  I’m amazed that this guy only got “mess” on his pants, and that he didn’t slip and fall into it.  Round 1 goes to the mess.  I decide that I don’t have enough armor on for this battle.  I go to the back to get more aprons and rags.  I tie an apron around each of my legs and arms.  I put another rag on my head like a bandana.  I put on the long bright yellow kitchen gloves and cover those gloves with a pair of disposable gloves.  I grab the plunger and toilet brush out of the ladies room, a mop, a deck brush and a wire coat hanger, some bleach and a spray bottle filled with sanitizer.  It was like bringing a knife to a gun fight the first time I went in. Now I’m ready for round two.

I take a deep breathe and charge forward into the war zone.  I head straight for the toilet and I catch a glimpse of myself in the brown reflection from the toilet.  I start to laugh and that causes me to open my mouth.  I immediately throw up right on top of the already disgusting toilet.  I shake it off and start plunging away.  After about 12 good pumps of the plunger, I decide to change over to the metal coat hanger.  I unbend it so that I can try and shove it into the toilet hole.  I start stabbing away and I hear the water bubble.  I plunge a little more and I notice the water start to go down a little bit.  I roll the dice and try to flush the toilet again.  It doesn’t flush all the way down, but it doesn’t overflow either.  I step out of the bathroom for some fresh air and let the toilet water try and go down a bit.  I consider this round a draw, but I’m gaining momentum.  

I get a mop bucket and some bleach and I walk back in “liberally applying” the bleach to all the surfaces of the bathroom (I dumped bleach everywhere).  I start to to scrub the floor with the deck brush.  I take a break from scrubbing and start spraying down the walls with sanitizer.  I sprayed enough to get all the smears off the walls, the garbage can, and the sink.  I stick my head outside the door to breathe some bleach-fumeless air.  I’m not ready to give up this round.  I take a peak into the toilet and all the water and mess has gone down the drain.  The bowl is still covered in brown death, but at least it has flushed.  I kick the plunger on the toilet so that it will flush again.  It flushes with no trouble, so I start spraying the toilet down with sanitizer.  Before I’m ready to mop I take two buckets of water and throw them onto the floor  and walls to help get any remain crud off.  I mop up all the dirty bleachy water and call it a night.  I won, no one died, and the bathroom is no longer resembles a battlefield.  As I shed my armour in the back, Brian walks past. 

“How’d it go?”

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I used to have pictures of the mess that guy left on my phone, but I must have deleted them like an attempt to delete the memories of that guy's bowel movement history from my brain, and sadly the memories still remain but the pictures do not.  Probably for the best though. 

 I really should be editting this novel, but instead I'm considering participating in NaNoWriMo again this year, not sure what I'll write about, but something will come to me for sure.  

Cleaned up a worse mess?  Dealt with weirdos?  Let me hear about it below!  Hit that Follow button, and have a great weekend.