Chefs

I was looking through Angie’s List for personal chefs,  not that I was going to hire one but just out of idle curiosity.  The ad that caught my eye was one that said “Taste That. Personal Chef Service.”  In my haste, I read it as “Taste That Person Chef Service.”  Ugh!

The Tutor

As a graduate student at the University of Texas I tutored the football team as a part-time job.  One night while tutoring a player from Monahans (Steve White) I mentioned that my brother in law was getting ready to marry someone from that part of the country.  When I told him her name, he said he knew her and  that she was a nym, nym, (he couldn’t quite say nymphomaniac).  I suspected as much, but never told the brother in law, though I am sure it would have made no difference.  They married anyway, though it lasted only a short time. 

Politics

I saw a cartoon that I want to remember, so I am recording it here.  Some politicians are gathered in a room, and one of them is saying “They say that you can fool some of the people all of the time, so we need to work on those folks.”

Evelyn’s Aquarium

In Austin about 1967, we got into the tropical fish thing.  Unfortunately, the only place in town to get a fish supply was Evelyn’s Aquarium.  One day I went in to replenish my supply and picked out several exotic choices.  I asked as they were being packaged where these fish  came from.  Evelyn said something like “the gettin’ place.”  I said something like, “No, where are they from?”  She then responded in these words exactly “Look, people who ask too many questions don’t stay my customers.”  I felt a sudden rage, and determination to get the last word.  I calmly went back to the tanks and started picking out additional choices, which she caught and put in a plastic container.  After several minutes of saying “I’ll have that one, and that one, and that one,’” and after she had caught them and packaged them,  I  told her “You know, I don’t think I will have any after all,” and left the store.  Not completely satisfied,  I called her several weeks later, and pretended to be a developer building a large office building in downtown Austin.  I told her that we were looking for 8 or 10 very large fish tanks for the lobby and wanted a quote.  I gave her a lot of specs, and told her to investigate pricing and that I would get back to her.  She asked which project I was working on, and I told her that was confidential.  She said she would have to make some long-distance telephone calls, and I said that was fine, that this was a really big order.  I told her I would call back in a week, but never did.  I hope she went to a lot of trouble.  Anyway, she didn’t last much longer as a business.

More Diaper Drama

About 1971, we had 2 diaper-age children in Austin.  Cloth diapers were still the fashion, though Pampers were coming into their own at that time.  Once we tried Pampers, we never went back to cloth, though everyone thought we were being indulgent.  Pampers were comparatively expensive vs. cloth, and were considered to be acceptable only on special occasions.  Since these new disposable diapers were costly, we watched for specials.  Murphy’s in Hancock Center had a special advertised in the paper at $.99 per box (limit 3).  That night we went to the store and bought several boxes, 3 at a time.  On our third return trip (or so), the manager came over and told us that the clerks were not going to sell us any more diapers.  We left and called Ed Fitzgerald, a friend in Austin who loved the dramatic.  He met us at the store, and bought several 3 packs.  As he came out of the store, he passed us on the sidewalk and pitched the sacks to us without missing a step or looking our way.  Then he went back and bought three more packages.  Finally, he too was told that his diaper-buying spree was over.  We did manage to get quite a few boxes of diapers this way, which lasted us for several months. 

Diaper Drama

Warning! Some material my not be suitable for pre-school children (Elementary is probably OK).

About 1957, before I got my driver’s license, I was riding my bicycle one summer day  near Wyatt’s Grocery.  A car was parked against the curb, with a boy about 2 years old inside by himself.  Apparently his mother had gone into the store.  He was wearing only diapers-no shirt, shoes, or pants.  When a shopper  walked by, the kid yelled out the window ( I remember the exact words) “Pee-pee, doo-doo, fart, turd, monkey’s ass, monkey’s ass.”  Of course this caused a startled response by those adult shoppers going into the store, which sent the kid into paroxysms of delight.  I watched him for several minutes, bemused, as he yelled the same thing at several passers by, then dissolved into delighted laughter at their response.  Some acted like they had not heard, others look startled, and a few seemed to be amused.  I thought it was great.  A few minutes later his mother came out, and they drove off.  I don’t know if she ever knew what a show her son put on in her absence. 

Nightmare at the Motel

We were at a music convention in San Antonio, and our youngest son brought his then girlfriend to help work the show.  Rooms were in short supply,  so I told him that he needed to find some place to stay before everything sold  out.  He waited too long, and came back in late in the night after we had gone to bed,  saying that there was nothing available anywhere in the city of San Antonio.  This created a problem.  We had 2 beds in our room.  I occupied one, and Jimmy’s friend Chad Winters occupied the other.  Now we had 2 more people to deal with.  I could not let our son sleep in the same bed as his girl friend on general principles.  I could not afford to sleep in the bed with her either,  since no telling what kind of rumors that would have started.   So I figured that I would have to have her in the bed with Chad Winters.  The next day Chad said that every time she moved he would freeze, not knowing what was next.  She later said that that was the first and only time she had ever “slept” with a black man.   I think we were all pretty successful at controlling bodily functions  that night,  at least I hope so,  but there was a lot of unnecessary “tension” created  because of this unusual arrangement. 

Pat and Me

We let our interior decorator live in our house in Ruidoso in exchange for looking after the place.  When I was up there in Ruidoso  for a few weeks last summer,  we did a few home improvement projects.   When I went to pick up something from a glass company, the counter clerk said that my “partner” had already picked it up.  I was disturbed that they assumed  we were a couple.  I told them emphatically that we were not “partners” but that he was our interior decorator.  I noticed that the women in the back office were looking intently my way to hear this conversation.  Just last week I got Pat a room at a motel when he came for a family event.  We both went to the check-in counter since I  was paying for the room.  When I told the clerk that I wanted one room (I was staying at home), he asked if we wanted one bed or two.  Gave me the creeps.

Playing Chess

For a while I played chess on Yahoo.  Since it was often necessary to wait for a long time for an opponent to show up,  I decided to identify myself as a female.  I said that my name was Jennifer Wilson, and that I was a 27-year old elementary school teacher, and a virgin.  Needless to say, my plan worked.  I hardly ever had to wait for an opponent after that.  Usually seconds after I logged on,  I had a game.  There was one problem, however.  All my opponents wanted to chat.  It got to be so bad that I had to go back to my real identity.  When I played as Jennifer Wilson,  I would have kibitzers rooting for me and constant chatter from my opponents.  It drove me nuts.  One character from Taiwan wanted to get married.  At first when the chat would start I would say only “your move.”  Then they would ask if something was wrong.  Drove me nuts.  

The Caterers

We had a catered party this weekend to celebrate a Christening for 5 grandchildren.  I must have overpaid for the caterer, because whenever I go to the restaurant now that he owns , he sits at my table and brings me lots for free goodies.   Most of the time I just want to quietly read the paper, but he comes over  and  brings extra treats not on the menu.  Today,  I didn’t even get past the front page.   I had the same problem at another restaurant.  The ladies who worked there and owned the place called me “Jimmy,” and asked where I had been when I missed a few days.  I began to feel guilty when I left town because I always had to explain why I had not been there.  Now I don’t dare go back, because after 3 months of being gone,  it would take me all day to justify my absence.   All I ever  really wanted was the little salad plate (I get a choice of three options), and now I am denied it.