Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Monday



Monday was chilly and damp. But, it was supposed to warm up by the afternoon, so I wore a short sleeve shirt with no coat.

I regretted that on my morning walk.

I took in the rest of the roast pork for Vicky’s family and a container of bean and bacon soup for my friend, Michelle.

Lenore brought back my empty big container from the shrimp scampi and Vicky brought back my two containers, but these were full! One had rice with pigeon peas and the other had those Puerto Rican meat pies (Empanadas – think mini UP pasties without the veggies). Dinner is served!

I had a very unusual lunch.  I went to Ten Yen. The owner wasn’t there today, just his two daughters. I assumed they are both working age but, being Chinese, they both look about 12 years old. Just to be different, I ordered the Almond Chicken. It was a slow day and the other diners left until I was the only customer in the place. I was seated in a booth where I couldn’t see the front counter (where to-go orders are picked up and you pay your bill). I had just finished up when a hell of a commotion broke out up front. My waitress (the younger of the two girls) was cowering in the dining area, with her hand over her mouth and wide-eyed from fright.

So, I went up front to see what was going on. There was a guy up front that I will now try and describe: He was about my height, but skinny. He had shoulder length, unkempt gray hair. He was wearing dirty jeans and a black hoodie. He had wraparound sunglasses and finger-less gloves that had skeleton bones on the backs of them. He smelled bad, mostly of whiskey.

He was jumping all around, making phony Kung Fu moves and yelling that he was the son of Bruce Lee and was going to kick the other daughter’s mother-fncking ass if she didn’t get him some egg foo young. Little as she was, she was standing up to him, telling him, “No, you no eat. You drunk! Get out or I call police!” She picked up the phone and he grabbed it out of her hand and slammed it back down, saying, “You ain’t calling anybody, bitch!” I stepped in between them and calmly said, “What’s the problem here?” He screamed, “The bitch won’t serve me!”

Sidebar: I was using my training in dealing with potentially insane, drugged out users and/or drunk people. I did not raise my voice to confront him. I merely spoke in a firm voice. I said, “I don’t blame her. It’s time for you to leave.” So, he started in again with the fake karate shit and told me he was the son of Bruce Lee and could kick my M/F ass, too. I said, “Well, maybe you can and maybe you can’t but you’re leaving now. Follow me.” I turned my back on him and walked to the door. Dammed if he didn’t follow me!

When we got outside, he climbed on a ratty-ass bicycle (the seat cover was a garbage bag) and I said, “Oh, I forgot to leave a tip” and went back inside. I asked the girls if they were okay. They were both obviously shaken, but thanked me profusely. I said I’d stay for a little while and make sure he was gone. So, I did.

I left there and went south on Wayne Road to my bank. Driving back, I glanced at the restaurant and sure enough, his bike was back!

So, I pulled in and called the cops. I had to describe him and so on. Meanwhile the Livonia Animal Control truck pulled in and two women got out and went inside. I thought at first they were cops, because they were wearing uniforms. Apparently, so did he, because he shot outside, hopped on his bike and drove away. I went back inside and told the girls I called the cops.  The older one was holding a cell phone in her shaking hand and she said, “I just did, too.” I asked if there was anything else they needed, and they said, “No, but thanks for all your help!”

Then I drove back to work.

Sidebar: Why does weird shit like this always happen to me?

Needless to say, the rest of the afternoon was anti-climactic. It did warm up rather nicely and the sun finally came out. So, my afternoon walk was quite pleasant.

When I got home, I treated the cat and quickly changed clothes. Then I went out back and continued with the fall cleanup. I pulled the flowers out of the window box, dumped the dirt in the vegetable garden and put the box in the shed.




I put the three patio chairs and two tables in the shed as well. I pulled all the rest of the plants from the vegetable garden and they all joined the window box flowers in the compost heap.

By then it was 6:45 p.m. and I was getting hungry. So, I quit for the night. I still have a lot to do, back there, but it was a good start.

Inside, I washed up and then warmed up my rice and empanadas. Both were excellent!

I watched a taped show on TV, then went to bed around 9:00 p.m.

8 comments:

  1. That reminds me of the bullet a person put through the back window of a restaurant I worked at back in the 90s. Crazy stuff. Good that you and the ladies were okay.

    ReplyDelete
  2. My little brother, the hero. Thank You John.

    ReplyDelete
  3. @ Jyl: Yes, I am learning restaurants can be dangerous places!
    @ GPF: No, I wasn't a hero. I was just pissed and didn't think it through.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Did you get your ration of poo when you told this story to ____?

    ReplyDelete
  5. Haven't talked to him recently. But, I imagine he'll tell me again that's why I need to have a concealed weapons permit.

    BTW, why do the call them CCWs, anyway. Shouldn't it be CWP?

    ReplyDelete
  6. And, as an aside, where "exactly" would I conceal a 6" barrel S&W 357 magnum cop pistol?

    ReplyDelete
  7. To comment one, the domain name was probably taken so they chose a new one (concealed carry weapons permit).

    To comment two, that's where he'd probably say that's why you need a carry sidearm, as well, or not. Just Clint it.

    "There's gotta be a hundred reasons why I don't blow you away. Right now I can't think of one."

    ReplyDelete