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Dinner with Barron Hilton - monday, august 28, 2006 - 17:40

Nice old man; wore a crisp white Member's Only jacket and worth a billion dollars.

I am not a closer - saturday, april 15, 2006 - 00:17

Books I have spent at least an hour reading this month, but not finished;

Borges - Selected Non-Fictions
Borges - Ficciones (en espaņol)
Lethem - As She Climbed Across the Table
Kalchuri - Lord Meher
Neruda - New Translations (Parallel Text)
Poe - Collected Short Stories
Various Authors - Cuentos Hispanicos (Parallel Text)
The Gospel of Matthew
Ware - Quimby the Mouse

and i'm planning on spreading myself thinner.

Excuse me Mr Albertsons Clerk... - thursday, march 23, 2006 - 22:19

but you don't have to scan each of my fourteen identical items separately. There's a button on your register labeled "Quantity." Press that button, then the buttons labeled "1" and "4" respectively, after that you can scan one of the 14 nutritional bars and all fourteen will be added to the tally.

Another option would be to forego the opening and inspection of the sealed carton entirely and trust that the Universal Product Code on the exterior accounts for all items enclosed.

I hope this doesn't come off as condescending, I only mean it as a bit of professional advice coming from a former Cashier Clerk to a current one.

Erich M.
Bi-Lo Grocery Clerk 1994-1995

The Delta - tuesday, march 21, 2006 - 21:30

Anita and I went on a little trip to the delta today. We saw rivers, bridges, sloughs, crawdads, barns, wind mills, wind turbines, the color green, hawks, cows, barbwire and the closed exterior of the western railroad museum. I was happy to just drive on some state highways and see what felt like tiny towns in the middle of nowhere. I say felt like because we were never more than an hour away from a city with a population over 400,000 people, but still had bait shops as the most populated store in town.

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Losing Sunrise - tuesday, february 21, 2006 - 17:42

Maybe it's not right to bring the competitive spirit to sunrise watching, or maybe that's just what losers say to make themselves feel better. Either way, the top floor of the Union Bank of California has a crappy eastern view of more skycrapers.

I'm not just sleeping in, - saturday, december 17, 2005 - 22:35

i'm being pro-active against jet-lag.

The Mansion is Cold. - tuesday, november 29, 2005 - 18:52

There's only heat in one of the rooms. What I need is a hot cup of tea.

By happenstance, I ran into the bass player for William's high school band, outside a bar in New York. - saturday, november 12, 2005 - 20:59

His name is Colin.
Their name was The Deceptacons.

Power Tool Duet - monday, july 04, 2005 - 10:07

Sometimes you're just not going to sleep in, even if it is a holiday.

B is for ... - wednesday, june 15, 2005 - 11:22

As I was going out to do errands yesterday I had the nagging feeling I was forgetting something. I looked over my list:

Bowling Ball
Beer
Books
Bright Ideas
Baseball tickets

"Oh yeah! I remember. I also need to get bullets for the shooting range on Wendsday."

Where has Erich been? - thursday, june 09, 2005 - 19:45

San Francisco International Airport (SFO). San Francisco, California. 2 times
Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) Los Angeles, California. 2 times
Aeropuetro Internacional Jorge Chavez (LIM) Lima, Peru. 2 times
Ezeiza International Airport (EZE) Buenos Aires, Argentina. 2 times.
Oakland International Airport (OAK). 2 times
The William B Hartsfield International Airport (ATL) Atlanta, Georgia. 2 times
Myrtle Beach International Airport (MYR) Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. 2 times

Alice missed Valle Vista - tuesday, march 22, 2005 - 11:11

While she's trying to catch up on some 24 and the L Word, J.B. and I had dueling stereos playing the same Led Zeppelin album. Welcome home Alice!

I did not fetch coffee or do any other bullshit. - friday, march 11, 2005 - 20:43

This week at work I was lifting heavy things, tying them down and un-tying them; moving fake office cubicles and chairs; running, running, and running; hiking two and a half miles in the Petaluma hills with photo gear, crossing a stream and helping others to do the same; placating an angry Piedmont Ave. shopowner; playing fetch with a dog, washing the dog, and stopping the dog from chasing the cattle; climbing into the rafters of an art gallery, moving paintings and building a fort in a field.

These are all things I was specifically asked to do; I probably would have done them on my own had I the chance.

Calle Ocho - friday, january 28, 2005 - 12:17

Calle Ocho is the restaurant my uncle recommended we meet at for dinner. He was waiting when I arrived. My Uncle Roy is in his sixties, greying, with widows peak balding, a little overweight with a modest tan from time spent in Florida with his Puerto Rican wife. He works in Union law which does read Teamsters but doesn't read Mafioso. The restaurant was recommended by a younger partner in his law firm who was obviously pretty hip. The decor was a seamless combination of dark wood, bright colors, and dim lighting, add Cuban music, fashionable twenty somethings and rich well suited business men and you've got the scene.

Roy was only up from Florida this weekend because he had to work on a specific legal case. He had invited another lawyer who was working on the same case to dinner with us because they needed to talk business and he didn't think I would mind because Murray was good guy.

Murray (read as Jewish, very Jewish) showed up five or ten minutes. He was a large unhealthy looking man with a big nose, a big smile, and wore a nice suit that fit loosely around him. While my uncle represents union groups that work with the mob, Murray represents gangsters directly; Jay-Z, and others.

"Erich," Murray appealed to me, "you gotta tell you uncle. He doesn't know this stuff but these guys; Jay-Z, Ja-Rule, DMX, they're a big deal."

I affirmed that they were in fact a big deal.

The waiter came to ask if we wanted drinks.
"Oh yes," said Murray "I'll have whatever ya got. Grain alcohol. Anything... actually I'm gonna be a pussy tonight. I'll have a cosmopolitan."

I ordered whiskey and ice. When asked if I preferred a brand I was shaking my head 'No' when Murray interrupted "Roy, how old is you nephew?"

"Twenty-seven" I answered for him.

"You're twenty-seven years old and you don't know how to order whiskey? The gentleman will have Johnny Walker, Black Label." That's when I started to really like Murray. Murray was an Atheist but still kept Kosher. He had an upper west side apartment that he had collected as payment from a client whose bookie joint had folded because as Murray said "He didn't have a Jew working for him. You can't run a bookie joint without a Jew, no one else knows the numbers like they do. you know how you can bet on half time spreads in Vegas well all those numbers come from one smart Jewish kid. I know. I know him, smart kid."

The food came and I just ate quietly as I listened to Murray talk bidness with my uncle.

"Roy, you gotta talk to this kid. Tell him to calm down. We had a case we could have won before this. I mean what he's doing is worse than the case he's up for. He's up for a misdemeanor and he's committing a felony to try to get out of it. I like him, he's a good kid but he's gotta calm down."

"These guys," my uncle explained to me "they get in a pinch and hire a wise-guy to help them out. Then when the wise-guys get caught the first people they sell out are the union guys who got them in."

There was a lot more hi-larious stuff said but I don't really feel comfortable repeating it on the internet, just trust me it was awesome.






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