Care For Some Fish?

Aren't you proud that American practices are so much different?! You should be! Yucky! God forbid that shit were to ever be presented to customers out here...people would go ape shit. What really grosses me out is that they actually start eating it as it's still leaping for life. *Cringe* I'm just really happy that I work in the front-of-the-house where everything is all peachy. Back-of-the-house on the other hand, let's just say that I will never look a cow or chicken straight in the eye again. I've seen racks of ribs hanging from what appeared to be ice picks and chicken heads lined up on a countertop that look like the one's you throw at baseball pitchers who intentionally walk Barry Bonds..God rest his legit career...but I still think Marc Ecko is an asshole for putting an asterisk* on the 756 ball. NO ONE WANTS TO BUY YOUR CLOTHES ANYMORE. YOU CAN'T HATE EVERYONE FOR THAT! Anyway, I would love to post pictures of these racks of ribs and chicken heads, but I think I may vomit soon. The vivid image in my head is becoming too real.

One of the restaurants that I worked at in San Francisco used deer in a few of their dishes. So, there I am, an innocent 21 year-old who's passing the walk-in fridge just to go clock-in for my shift. And, there it is. I swear it was Bambi lying on that cart with a white sheet covering it; one eye exposed to this evil world. It was like it was staring me down and using its lifeless body as an example of the brutal deaths that so many animals go through for human consumption. It may have whispered to me, "Go vegetarian, Jenny. Save the planet. And tell Flower my skunk friend that I miss her". I felt horrible! Almost like I was the one who did it. It was like they just killed her =/ Ok, not really. But, I felt really bad for her...if it was a her. And, I was scared so shitless that I clocked-in and ran right upstairs to do what I was there to do...my job. Isn't that fucked up, though? We use words like 'venison' to mask the idea of what we're really about to eat...deer...which equals Bambi. Don't hate me, animals. I need my source of protein, so please spare me the guilt trip.


Well, after seeing this video, I definitely prefer my fish killed in the kitchen like it should be and not as I'm eating it. *I think I just threw up in my mouth a little* Thanks.

Chelsea Handler

Is one of the most hilarious women in the entertainment industry. Her humor is my humor, and I fucking love it. Her opening monologue on her 12/4 episode of 'Chelsea Lately' on E! caught me dying of laughter. I wish I had heard the whole thing.

I like my cocktails like my vaginal walls; strong. A tip to the keigals to
you.

I highly recommend reading any of her books. I'm asking Santa for, Are you there, Vodka? It's me, Chelsea. If you like reading about sex and alcohol (who fucking doesn't?), I suggest My Horizontal Life. Please YouTube: Chelsea Lately. That is all.

Can't Wait For Turkey Day!

Mostly because my significant other has offered to cook dinner for me and my girls for our annual Merry Fanta Thanksgiving =] What kind of guy offers to do that? Apparently, my sweet, handsome, perfect gentleman of a boyfriend does. Jealous? You should be.

As for my family, let's just say that my mom has finally bended her ways of eating and decided to purchase a real turkey this year. The past couple years she prepared a tofurkey. Not fuckin' cool. Mind you, I was a vegetarian for two years of college...and that quickly ended once I rediscovered the greatness of Thanksgiving. Ever since, I've been a devout carnivore. Thank you, thank you. *bows head*.

Apparently my coworkers don't have anything planned out for Thanksgiving. I overheard someone say that they just placed their order at Boston Market. Another ordered from KFC. KFC? I would've never known either.

All of y'all who work in the restaurants can sit back and relax. Michelin Guide inspectors are taking the Holiday off. How do I know that? I follow their Twitter.

Just a few places I've check out:

Dopo on Piedmont in Oakland.

Kona Club on Piedmont in Oakland. It's totally a small version of Thalassa...another bar I've mentioned before.

Zebulon on Natoma in San Francisco. They got a pretty snazzy Happy Hour. And, if you don't like it, you can run over to John Collin's right across the street. Prime location to get drunk...and fast!

La Note in Berkeley. They usually have a really great brunch, but this time around we were a little disappointed. I guess it was because we only ordered pancakes. In the middle of our meal, we ended up swapping orders. Regardless of when you get there, prepare to wait. They're always shitty busy.

It was my boyfriend's good friend's birthday was this past weekend...that was a mouthful. We all had dinner at Coconut Bay in Burlingame. This restaurant makes me want to make more of an effort to go out to Burlingame. The food was pretty good and the location was so romantic. If only the place was run by people who knew how to run a restaurant, then it would be AWESOME. Definitely a cute corner location that's has so much potential. I was really disappointed by the service in the bar, though. The specialty cocktails were...alright. The bartender didn't really seem like she knew what she was doing. She offered to put someone else's drinks on my tab without my permission and without me even being present. That's just a lawsuit waiting to happen. Also, all of her garnishes weren't even prepared. She had to cut the limes, lemongrass and everything when ordered. I mean, granted it's a small place...be somewhat prepared. And, it shouldn't take more than ten minutes from greeting to serving the drink.

...that's sad. I only have a real opinion when it comes to the bar. I guess that shows what I find the most interest in. Hahah. Boyfriend and I have been mixing our own cocktails lately. It's been fun...and eventful.

In the words of one of my friend whom I went to UC Berkeley with, "Enjoy your family and friends. Enjoy your bountiful meals. Remember that this holiday is a celebration of the land that was violently taken from the indigenous people of North America".

...ouch. It's true, though.

Happy Thanksgiving!

WTP?!?!?

I KNEW IT HAD TO EXIST!

I totally yoinked this from somebody. Hahaha. Whoopsie!

Not That Relevant.

But still funny.


Conversation I had with somebody last night.

Upon discussion about masturbation.

Ray: It's like having sex with a microwaved grapefruit with one end cut out. And, if you're big, you make sure to cut both ends.

Me: What? Eww.

Ray: I mean, it's better than doing it with an apple pie.

Me: WHAT? How do you know?

Ray: I don't. I just imagine that having sex with a microwaved grapefruit makes more sense than doing it like in American Pie .

Me: Wow. Ok.

Ray and Me: *Awkward* LOL

I will never look at grapefruits the same.

This Guy...

My friend forwarded this article that was in the New York Times the other day. In the body before the link she wrote, "I thought of you when I saw this. Naturally." Sweet! For the most part, a lot of the things listed are true. Doesn't mean that I don't think the guy who wrote it is an asshole...and this is the latter half of the 100 things. I haven't even looked at the first 50.



-----

100 Things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do (Part 2)

By BRUCE BUSCHEL

This is the second half of the 100 do’s and don’ts from last week’s post. Again, this list is for one particular restaurant, mine, which is under construction in Bridgehampton, N.Y., and will, with any luck, open this spring. I realize that every deli needs a wisecracking waiter, most pizza joints can handle heavy metal, and burgers always taste better when delivered by a server with tattoos and tongue piercing(s).

Not even a hundred suggestions can cover all the bases, so one is grateful for the many comments following the 50, including striking “you guys” from the restaurant lexicon and making sure the alcohol order is taken lickety-split. Thanks for all of the help.

51. If there is a service charge, alert your guests when you present the bill. It’s not a secret or a trick.

52. Know your menu inside and out. If you serve Balsam Farm candy-striped beets, know something about Balsam Farm and candy-striped beets.

53. Do not let guests double-order unintentionally; remind the guest who orders ratatouille that zucchini comes with the entree.

54. If there is a prix fixe, let guests know about it. Do not force anyone to ask for the “special” menu.

55. Do not serve an amuse-bouche without detailing the ingredients. Allergies are a serious matter; peanut oil can kill. (This would also be a good time to ask if anyone has any allergies.)

56. Do not ignore a table because it is not your table. Stop, look, listen, lend a hand. (Whether tips are pooled or not.)

57. Bring the pepper mill with the appetizer. Do not make people wait or beg for a condiment.

58. Do not bring judgment with the ketchup. Or mustard. Or hot sauce. Or whatever condiment is requested.

59. Do not leave place settings that are not being used.

60. Bring all the appetizers at the same time, or do not bring the appetizers. Same with entrees and desserts.

61. Do not stand behind someone who is ordering. Make eye contact. Thank him or her.

62. Do not fill the water glass every two minutes, or after each sip. You’ll make people nervous.

62(a). Do not let a glass sit empty for too long.

63. Never blame the chef or the busboy or the hostess or the weather for anything that goes wrong. Just make it right.

64. Specials, spoken and printed, should always have prices.

65. Always remove used silverware and replace it with new.

66. Do not return to the guest anything that falls on the floor — be it napkin, spoon, menu or soy sauce.

67. Never stack the plates on the table. They make a racket. Shhhhhh.

68. Do not reach across one guest to serve another.

69. If a guest is having trouble making a decision, help out. If someone wants to know your life story, keep it short. If someone wants to meet the chef, make an effort.

70. Never deliver a hot plate without warning the guest. And never ask a guest to pass along that hot plate.

71. Do not race around the dining room as if there is a fire in the kitchen or a medical emergency. (Unless there is a fire in the kitchen or a medical emergency.)

72. Do not serve salad on a freezing cold plate; it usually advertises the fact that it has not been freshly prepared.

73. Do not bring soup without a spoon. Few things are more frustrating than a bowl of hot soup with no spoon.

74. Let the guests know the restaurant is out of something before the guests read the menu and order the missing dish.

75. Do not ask if someone is finished when others are still eating that course.

76. Do not ask if a guest is finished the very second the guest is finished. Let guests digest, savor, reflect.

77. Do not disappear.

78. Do not ask, “Are you still working on that?” Dining is not work — until questions like this are asked.

79. When someone orders a drink “straight up,” determine if he wants it “neat” — right out of the bottle — or chilled. Up is up, but “straight up” is debatable.

80. Never insist that a guest settle up at the bar before sitting down; transfer the tab.

81. Know what the bar has in stock before each meal.

82. If you drip or spill something, clean it up, replace it, offer to pay for whatever damage you may have caused. Refrain from touching the wet spots on the guest.

83. Ask if your guest wants his coffee with dessert or after. Same with an after-dinner drink.

84. Do not refill a coffee cup compulsively. Ask if the guest desires a refill.

84(a). Do not let an empty coffee cup sit too long before asking if a refill is desired.

85. Never bring a check until someone asks for it. Then give it to the person who asked for it.

86. If a few people signal for the check, find a neutral place on the table to leave it.

87. Do not stop your excellent service after the check is presented or paid.

88. Do not ask if a guest needs change. Just bring the change.

89. Never patronize a guest who has a complaint or suggestion; listen, take it seriously, address it.

90. If someone is getting agitated or effusive on a cellphone, politely suggest he keep it down or move away from other guests.

91. If someone complains about the music, do something about it, without upsetting the ambiance. (The music is not for the staff — it’s for the customers.)

92. Never play a radio station with commercials or news or talking of any kind.

93. Do not play brass — no brassy Broadway songs, brass bands, marching bands, or big bands that feature brass, except a muted flugelhorn.

94. Do not play an entire CD of any artist. If someone doesn’t like Frightened Rabbit or Michael Bublé, you have just ruined a meal.

95. Never hover long enough to make people feel they are being watched or hurried, especially when they are figuring out the tip or signing for the check.

96. Do not say anything after a tip — be it good, bad, indifferent — except, “Thank you very much.”

97. If a guest goes gaga over a particular dish, get the recipe for him or her.

98. Do not wear too much makeup or jewelry. You know you have too much jewelry when it jingles and/or draws comments.

99. Do not show frustration. Your only mission is to serve. Be patient. It is not easy.

100. Guests, like servers, come in all packages. Show a “good table” your appreciation with a free glass of port, a plate of biscotti or something else management approves.

Bonus Track: As Bill Gates has said, “Your most unhappy customers are your greatest source of learning.” (Of course, Microsoft is one of the most litigious companies in history, so one can take Mr. Gates’s counsel with a grain of salt. Gray sea salt is a nice addition to any table.)

It's Definitely Winter

The weather is gettin' chilly and our evenings are blanketed with starry skies so damn early. And, I'm sick. BOO! It's also the season that you should reconsider sharing drinks/taking sips with people. That's where I made the big mistake. I think my damned 19 year-old sister passed me the cough germ when I illegally shared with her my beer at the Warrior game last week. Karma, let the young bucks have some fun. Sheesh!

I swear, if I would have known it was Filipino Heritage Night at the Warrior game against the Los Angeles Clippers, I would have stayed home. I mean, I'm proud of being Filipino and everything, but I get all claustrophobic when there are too many people who look like me in one concentrated area. When we finally settled down into our seats, the older gentleman behind us kept screaming, "DEPENSE! *clap clap* DEPENSE!". Hilariousness. Then, when my sister and I got up to go use the restroom I bumped into my friend's aunt. She flagged me down and said, "Jenny!" I walked over to give her a hug. I recognized her face, but I couldn't make out whose mom she was. I stared in confusion. She said, "You don't remember me, huh?"

"Yes, I do! Auntie!" Default response. Haha. My bad. Then, she reminded me whose mom she was. Gah, don't I feel like an idiot.

After the game I had some time to kill before I went to go get my spoon on. I didn't really have a definite location to go to, but I figure Piedmont Ave. in Oakland would be a good place to end up. There is a pool hall in Berkeley called, Thalassa, that I loved going to when I was in college because of how damned accessible it was. Literally a block-and-a-half away from my apartment, makes crawling home after one too many drinks extremely convenient. What I particularly love about this bar is that it's so hidden that you wouldn't know its name unless you actually ordered a drink from the bar. So many good times at this place. Damn, I wish I were young again. Oh, and one interesting thing is that you always find something new in this place.

Anyway, I wanted to check out Thalassa's sister bar, Kona Club, on Piedmont Ave. only because I figure the experience may be the same. Except, when I was actually driving down Piedmont Ave. there were a few other places that looked more appealing to hang out in while stag. The longer the idea that I was going out for a drink by myself in a bar made me feel like a loser. So, I parked my car and walked my little brown butt down the street to a seemingly crackin' corner restaurant. I ended up at Adesso. I believe they've made it into the Michelin Guide. I sat at the bar all by myself in between a couple and an old man. There were so many people, it was so loud and I just wanted to have a drink by myself without looking like a complete loser. So, I turned to the older man and asked him what he recommended. He was obviously a regular patron at this place because he almost recommended everything. I ordered the prosciutto (6 slices) and a very nice glass of red, Vernatsch (spelling? forgive me). The bartender actually recommended a glass of white, but he respected my wish for a red. I offered the older man a slice and we talked for a good 45 minutes about the area. I told him that I was looking to move to Oakland sometime soon, and that it would be nice to hear what the locals have to say about the nearby restaurants. Jack was a sweet old man who was really easy going. After he finished his latte he wished me well, and gave me a kiss on the top of my head. Old people can be so cute. The bar tender told me about this really cool thing that's happening tomorrow night at the restaurant. They're actually having a famous "Grappa" maker come in and teach some new techniques to whoever is willing to come in and learn. Grappa is an after dinner drink that isn't necessarily a port. I wish I can make it, but I already have dinner plans =/ I believe that starts at 5pm. This is an extremely big deal because this man is coming all the way from Italy. I really loved that the bartenders at Adesso were so attentive and friendly. I ordered a latte to wake me up a bit and the guy didn't even charge me for it! Could it be my charming good looks? Maybeeee. Or, he just forgot to add it to my tab. Regardless, it was a really great experience for me even though I was by myself. I should do that more often. People are actually much more friendly when you give them a chance.

It was my dad's birthday this past weekend and I really wanted to get him out of that whole mentality that PF Chang's is a good place to eat EVERY TIME YOU'RE CELEBRATING SOMETHING. I've really become to hate that place. So, I took my family to Xanh Restaurant in Mountain View. Can I get a hip-hip-HOORAY for Asian food?! Everything is family style, and I can't say that I wasn't pleased with any one particular dish. The food was so good that it makes PF Chang's look like McDonald's...like it should. The bar is sleek, cool and modern. I would definitely meet up with friends for a drink there. Oh, and they have a Happy Hour to die for. Half-off well-drinks? Count me in!

Hmm...where else did I go last week before I developed this disgusting cough?

Oh, my very dear friend moved to LA this past weekend and I decided to meet up with him and some of his coworkers in the Marina at Kelley's Tavern. The more I go out to the Marina, the more I fall in love with it. So damn bourgie (spelling? reference: bourgeoisie)...haha. I wouldn't mind living out in that part of the City.

Afterwards, I met up with Chef and his buddies from work at Nopa. I really wish I didn't eat before I went there, but the burgers that they were eating looked amazing. The fries were amazing. I would know, I love french fries. I made the mistake and let the guy pick my drink without giving anything for him to go off of what I preferred. A little strong for my taste. They all said it tasted just fine. I'm sorrrry, I like the girly drinks. Apparently Nopa is open pretty late and it's the perfect place to go for anyone who works into the late hours of the night in the service industry. That just sucks for the guys who work there late at night...where do they go? The space though is really great. They have gaping windows that overlook the street...can't go wrong with big windows. A really great looking communal table for large parties or for those who are willing to mingle. Tons of tables and a second floor that overlooks the entire restaurant, including the open kitchen! Yeah, it was really great.

So, now I'm here. Paying for all of that fun that I had last week. Coughing my lungs out and sweating like a pig. I think I've drank enough orange juice to put Florida into a state of panic. Like, seriously, I've drank a carton (64 fl.oz.) of orange juice a day PLUS two to three glasses of Emergencee. I have drank so much orange juice that my pee is neither clear or yellow...it's orange. Have you ever seen that before? Neither have I. Well, I suppose that's enough self-exposure. Until next time, Bon Appetit!

Pussy...Cat.

My cousin was married earlier in the summer and I was a bridesmaid. Which inevitably means that I was obligated to attend the so-unholy bachelorette party. I've pretty much hit that age that once you know one person who's getting married, the rest of your friends begin to drop like flies. Next thing you know, you're an aunt or god parent. Even worse, you're the one getting married.

Anyway, this was my first bachelorette party ever. Admittedly, it set the bar pretty high for future bachelorette parties to come. Why? Because instead of having the usual male-stripper club outting, we went to Asia SF. This was also my first time here. I bet you're asking yourself, "Alright, Jenny, what's the big deal?" Hold your horses, I'm getting there! In addition to the obligatory male-stripper, we also had fe(male) entertainers.
[fe(male)] = know your order of mathematical operations, my friends, and maybe you'll get the picture.

That's right. These entertainers are genetically...men. Whatever journey that they have gone through from their birth until the moment I saw them stomping their pretty little heels on that runway-style bartop had to have been something absolutely astonishing. They were all dolled up, gorgeous, and unbelieveably convincing. The host that walked us to our table was literally drop-dead gorgeous. She walked so gracefully, had beautiful long brown hair and had a face that would make so many "real" women jealous. You think I lie? Of course not.

I mean, look at that body. Don't lie to yourself, she's hot and you know it. And, if you're a guy who's reading this and staring at the photo in confusion, I bet you $5 you thought she was cute until you realized it was a guy. Well...she...was...a guy...? Who knows.

The entertainers were great. There are about 4 seatings per night, and four entertainers per dinner showing. Each entertainer does about two sets of song and dance each. Let's see...I saw Shakira, Beyonce and some 1920s-style entertainer. It was great. Apparently, at each show they try to seat a man at the end of the bar where the entertainers could tease them in front of the crowd. As my cousin and the rest of the bachelorette party sat at our table eating our dinner, these performers would make their way to the end of the bar and do some pretty sexually provacative dance moves on this man. They would stand over him and kneel over to reveal cleavage and/or thrust their hips forward into his face. Poor guy. It's obvious that he would be pretty embarassed by being picked on, but I honestly think he kind of enjoyed it. His face, along with his bald head, turned bright read every time the entertainer came over to pick on him.


I think this is the Shakira set. The only reason why I took this picture is so that I can see if I can spot her junk. I don't really see anything. Do you? After our dinner we were given a male-stripper in a private room. At first I thought it was fun, but now that I think about it that shit is nasty. I was drunk. Anything's fun when I'm drunk. He put oil on our hands and everything to rub on his body. Eww, yuck. Everyone in the party got at least one lap dance. My cousin, she was hooked up with more shots than she could drink. All of the other bachelorette parties had their own little thing in the downstairs basement where there's a bar and dancefloor. FUN TIMES.

Overall, the experience was great. For any of you who are thinking to throw a bachelorette party outside of the ordinary, I definitely recommend this place. Even though it sounds a little tacky, I can honestly tell you that bachelorette parties are supposed to push the bounderies. So, if you have a strong stomach and are open to the spectrum of sexuality and gender, this place is for you. The food and drinks were just alright. A little expensive for my liking, but if you book with Asia SF beforehand, they'll provide you with a really great package for services within the restaurant and also admission to a lot of the surrounding clubs in the area. The actual venue is really cool.

Side thought: You know how the word 'phallic' describes shapes and symbols that are representative of the male genitalia? Asia SF made me question if there is a word that is representative of female genitalia. I mean, we don't walk around pointing at things that look like vaginas and say, "wow, that looks extremely 'vaginic'". Someone told me that it's called 'gynic'. That just doesn't sound right to me.

Anyway, the interior design of the place continually reminds you of the vagina. Like, the lamps were shaped like labia. One thing in particular totally mind-fucked me. It was a huge mirror that is unmistakably shaped like the labia majora. I swear, every time I looked into it it made me think of where I come from. Like, literally, the part of the body of where I come from. Where you come from, at that! It was almost like I was looking at myself toward the inside of the vagina and I'm never going to be able to go back to that place...except through the experience of carrying and birthing my own child. See what I mean? It totally mind-fucked me. That's besides the point. The bar was great. Some patrons were allowed to sit at the bar and enjoy dinner up-close and personal with the entertainers doing their sets at the runway style bar top adjacent to them. The dinner tables surround the bar where larger parties can enjoy their dinners comfortably and admire from afar. Everything in the upstairs portion of the restaurant was sleek, modern and fun. I definitely like that they kept the female anatomy in mind when it came to the concepts used for the interior design.




More pictures of the beautiful entertainers. Eat your heart out.

No More Reviews...

because Chef thinks I'm as much of an elitist as the Yelp Elite. Boo, Chef! Says the guy who searches Craigslist every day to look for job postings just to HATE on other restaurants. Who's the hater now?



I only went to a few notable places anyway:

1. Alembic on the Haight, San Francisco. I'm not a fan of old people drinks, but this place has a specialty list to die for.
   
2. Blowfish Sushi on Santana Row, San Jose. I've ate here a good handful of times and hated it. Somehow, I've learned to like it. Maybe it's 'cause I didn't pay for it this time around. Thank goodness of the sissy's birthday.
   
3. Some sushi spot on Holloway and Ashton, San Francisco. Seriously, my favorite hole-in-the-wall in San Francisco. So hole-in-the-wall that I didn't even know it's name unitl just now that I Yelp'd its address to find a link to it. Honestly, their udon is really good and I don't understand why a lot of places seem to get something so easy to make...wrong.
   

Maybe I'm Just Silly...

but I personally think this is hilarious. I found this the last time I was in LA. Had to take a snapshot. Only in LA where looks are preferred over brains.

A Night in the Castro

I honestly have not hung out in the Castro since I was...20? Maybe 21. The last time I was there I got so shitfaced drunk that I took a cab home and ended making my cousin pay for it. Sorry girl. To tell you the honest truth, I think I was slipped some sort of rufie that still allowed me to function. I vaguely remember a man trying to hit on me and he told me he was a coke dealer. Chyeah, super sketch. Do I remember? Of course not. Anyway, let's just make the long story short and say that that entire experience made me stay away from the Castro and much more wary about how much I drink in public and who I'm drinking with.

It was Ryan's birthday. Yes, the same cousin Ryan who sent me the inappropriate picture of the 'Hand Job Nail Spa'. Right when we parked in the neighborhood and turned the corner, there it was. In all of its glory the big red banner held high above the store read 'HAND JOB'. Only in the Castro can a business survive with a name like that. I had to make Ryan stop in his path so that I could laugh for a good second. I had no idea that he had taken the photo in the Castro...it all makes sense.

What I love about the Castro is that the drinks are dirt cheap and the bars are all really close to each other. If you aren't feeling the crowd at one bar, there's another one a couple stores down filled with just as many gay-loving people as the next. It's awesome. Everyone there is ridiculously nice to me. Granted, I am cute...and somehow I always turn out to be a faghag. What can I say? The gays love me. I mean, it just wouldn't be fair to be gay and not have a good looking girlfriend by your side. That would mean that the world is working against you.

After my two drinks (two for one well-drinks: $3), Ryan and I made our way to get some dinner at Thai House Express. We were debating if we should buy a bottle of white wine to drink our sorrows away and celebrate Ryan's birthday, but we figure we had a long night ahead of us...it was only 5:30. How pathetic. We were already buzzed, eating dinner, and thinking about how we would fail miserably to get throughout the night in a functional manner. We ordered the Beef Jerky, vegetable dish and cashew chicken. All pretty standard dishes to order at any hole-in-the-wall Asian joint. It was really good though. Great drunk food at that. The beef jerky came with this hot chili sauce that put my mouth of fire for a good 30 seconds after each bite. Nonetheless, it was definitely worth having my half of the dish. We both ended up just getting a glass of pinot grigio each. We needed something to cool our drunk asses down, but not completely take away our buzz. Dinner was cheap, $41 in total. Happy birthday, RYAN!

Now this is probably the point in my night where everything started to get a little more exciting. We drove out to have some drinks at Martuni's. I only had one drink at this place but it was really good: Raspberry Martini. They also had other fruit-inspired martini's that were creatively put together. If I would have known that they put watermelon wedges on their watermelon martini, I definitely would have ordered that instead. I really just wanted to rekindle some old flames with my old favorite that pretty much doesn't exist anymore: Ferrari Martini. This place is definitely legit though. Martuni was crackin' with a very wide range of people. Live Music. Good Drinks. Good people. How much more can you ask? I told one of the guys the story that my mom thinks I work at an Asian cafe, and let's just say that ended up biting me back on the ass. He kept using it against me saying that, "You shouldn't worry about how much or what you drink. You don't have morals. You work at an Asian cafe, remember?"

Alright gay guy, simmer down. Stop gettin' sassy with me.

Then, I got hungry. I decided to be brave and go to Zeitgeist right down the street to get something to eat. I knew that everyone else was having a good time, so I went by myself. I used to love this place...until this night. I've heard things before that the folks who work in the kitchen are sexist towards men. Well, let me add to that list. They're slightly racist too. I was standing in line reading the menu and it was shit loud in the joint. By the time I was ready to order the guy put out a sign right in front of my face saying that it was my fault that the kitchen isn't closing yet EVEN though the signwas just put out. WTF? C'mon guy. Drop the ego real fast, and stop trying to play God because you're feeding me. Mind you, I'm technically feeding you because my business pays your fuckin' bills. Why you gotta be so rude? He basically told me that if I stiff him on the tip he'll never serve me again. No problemo, asshole. I'm not coming back. The burger was worth it. Right after I ordered my burger some girl behind me asked if I could order her Gardenburger so that she doesn't get yelled at, too. I figured I may as well spare someone else the emotional damage that this guy can cause and help her out. We were standing while we were waiting for our orders and she asked if I'd like to join them. So, I did. I mean, I was by myself. I stood out like a soar thumb because I was dressed in a short dress, boots and I am colored...damn, that seems to be a common theme nowadays for me. Wendy was a nice gal. She was totally a Wendy...more like Dave Thomas' grown-up Wendy. She was a white girl with short, red, curly hair. We were talkin' shit for a good while about how much of assholes the people who work at Zeitgeist are. Turns out she's a pretty smart chick who's in nursing school and was celebrating some sort of academic achievement with her colleagues. She was originally from some state in the midwest. I asked her, "So, why do you like San Francisco so much to have left your entire familiy?"

"Because I'm a lesbian."

**AWKWARD**

I chew down the last few bits of my burger, shake her hand, and wish her well. She was a sweet gal and everything, but I was drunk and who knows what kinds of irresponsible actions I can participate in. I can't even handle the boys, so what makes me think I can continue to string this woman on.

I leave. Good bye, Zeitgeist. I think I'll find another dive bar to go to and spend my money. Yes, it's awesome to be able to bring my bicycle right on in with me and have a beer on your back patio, but don't treat me like shit. The guys that work there were almost as big of assholes as the guys who run Top Dog in Berkeley. Except, at Top Dog you can actually see them make your food. So, the guy at Zeitgeist could have thrown my burger patty on the ground, picked ot up and served it to me without even knowing.

I head back to Martuni's to meet with the group. I really don't know what it is about hanging out with gay guys, but damn it's always a good time. One of them started doing cartwheels on the sidewalk as we were walking up on Market towards the Castro and literally tore a 12 inch hole down the middle of his right pantleg. I guess his cartwheels were too fabulous to be contained in his pantalones. So, one of the other faghags in the group stopped at a corner store to buy an entire box of safety pins to put it back together. And what does this boy do? He gets bold and does another cartwheel to ONLY rip an even bigger hole on the same pantleg. Ugh, pop a cherry once, you only crave to do it again.

What I loved most about this group is that the language was extra vulgar and the women referred to the gay men as other women. I used to be extremely adament about getting people's preferred pronouns right, but this particulary lady was just calling everybody 'she'. Example:

"Did you hear Jerry is with Adam right now?"

"Yeah, that bitch would. She's totally dickwhooped right now."

Hahah, everyone was a she. I loved it. The other faghag threatened that she would tear a bitch up if another faghag were to try to infiltrate the group. Yes, this was a real conversation. And, I completely felt like an outsider. It was awesome. All of these folks work/worked at Starbucks together. An entirely different side of the service industry. It was just really funny to observe how one group of friends interact with each other. I'm sure the dynamics of their relationships with one another was extremely different because of their identities. It was really great to just hang out with people who are half-in and half-out the hospitality industry. I think Starbucks functions like a restaurant on crack. They're a little more straight forward with their services. Gimme yo money, leave your change in my tip bucket, get yo coffee and get the fuck out.

I say it was a successful night because I made it out alive. I was able to drive myself home and make it to work the next day. My cousin on the other hand...let's just say he may have stayed behind at the 'Hand Job'...minus the female Asian cafe workers...sub 21 year old white boy.

Old People...

...why do you have to be so grumpy?


Like, on the real. It's either they're really grumpy or they are just adorably sweet. I hope I don't grow up to be a grumpy, old person.


Tonight, I assigned a party of four in our mid-sized dining room because they requested for the quietest place to sit and talk. Our smallest room was reserved for a private event, so this was probably the next best place to take them. As I'm watching my boss take them back to their table, they just stare at the table like there's something completely wrong. As if there was a dead piece of road kill on it. My boss then guides them to our outside patio. Then, guides them back to the original table. The man lets his wife sit down and comes to my desk...and FULL OUT yells at me. He makes me recite to him the note that was left on the reservation. I say, "quietest table available. Preferably the back room".

He then says, "Exactly. You did not follow directions. If the restaurant was going to be noisy, you should have called me beforehand to tell me that it was going to be loud. I cannot communicate with my family if it's going to be this loud. You ruined my dinner and you don't know how to do your job."

ASSHOLE! Give me a fuckin' break. You're at a trendy restaurant and you want everyone else who dines here to whisper to each other for your sake? I don't think so. Not happening.

I obviously apologize for the inconvenience. There's really nothing that I can do about that. I don't know who the fuck he thinks he is to tell me that I don't know how to do my job. Hey Mister! Go shave the fuckin' hair out of your ear and maybe you'd be able to hear your family talk to you.

He then says, "the food here is great. The service on the other hand, you all need to learn how to do your jobs correctly. Make a note of this and pass it on to your manager."

I say, "Sure, I'll pass the information on to them".

Then he says, "No, write it down right now. I want to see you write it".

I don't write it down. Fuck that. I tell him that I'll let my manager know.

Turns out he already yelled at my manager. I'm flattered to think that he thought I was someone with authority. But, really. It is necessary to be grumpy like that to people? Especially me. I'm a pretty respectful person when it comes to my job, and life in general. I really don't appreciate being treated like some lowly person in the service sector. I don't give a shit if you're a celebrity, doctor, lawyer or you have nose hair sticking out of your nostrils as a symbol that you are over the hill are-- plain and simple, be nice.

On a lighter note, I have been offered a promotion. I am currently training to be the banquet/private event coordinator =] Exciting especially since the holidays are fast approaching and companies are going to start booking for their holiday parties. I have big plans for this place, and hopefully I'll be able to implement all of my ideas.

Also, last night I found out my roommate got a job with AmeriCorps. Awesome! So, right when she told me the news I said that I would be down to celebrate with her over dinner. So, I made my way out to San Francisco and ate at Picaro's on 16th and Valencia. The simple act of driving out there and trying to find parking made me miss the city life. I saw a ton of people on bicycles, countless bums hauling their recyclables and oddly-dressed people. I do have to admit, I miss that street funk, too. Gross, I know. I passed by the Victoria Theater on 16th and Mission where they premiered Macaframa last year. WHICH, I'm proud of myself for because I biked from there all the way to Balboa Bart. The only chick, and I was hella schoolin' the boys I was with. Anyway, Picaro's was awesome. I don't think you can ever go wrong with tapas. We ordered five plates and we were FULL. Everything was mighty tasty. To tell you the honest truth, I think it was better than Cha Cha Cha's. That's a big statement coming from me because I am a devoted Cha Cha Cha's fan. I used to go there after my bikram yoga classes at Funky Door Yoga in the Haight...mmm, jamaican jerk chicken and sauteed shrimp...I think I just got the chills thinking about it.


Alright, well hopefully I get my swag back into some humorous writing. What's wrong with me? I guess it doesn't help that I can't fuck around at my current job because now I have actual responsibilities. No titty flashings or drunk escapades at this place. I gotta act like a grown-up now. How sad.

Chill Weekend

Life after college goes by so quickly. Either that or times flies when you're having fun.

The Bokeh event went well. I don't feel I contributed as much as I would have liked to, but it's definitely a 'live & learn' experience. I mean, it isn't my gallery and it wasn't my event. So, it's hard to feel obliged to put any real hard work into something that doesn't even belong to me. However, I now know how things should be run if ever the opportunity presents itself that I'm in charge of the entire event.

The set-up was pretty dope, though. The concept was really tight. It's just the main component that was missing was its marketing. Chef totally threw it down. I'm silly and forgot to take pictures of the food, AGAIN! I'm so fired. He made a melon salad with tomatoes, flank steak skewers with chimichurri sauce, duck skewers with shallots, chicken sausages, and a chocolate croissant bread pudding with bananas in brown sugar and caramel sauce...which I currently have the leftovers in my fridge to fulfill all of my sweettooth needs =] I'm a sucker for bread pudding.

Here are some photos of the gallery from my point-and-shoot. I ain't cool enough to have one of those expensive cameras. I'm broke.




On Sunday I went to eat at Marzano's in Oakland. It really amazes me that people show me new things in an area that I lived in for five years that I never knew existed. I was pretty sheltered throughout college a.k.a. devoted too much time to boys. I didn't get Rule #32: Enjoy the little things. On Sunday's, you can choose from a preselected menu that offers pizzas for $10! Yummy pizzas at that. They also have about 5 cocktails that go for $6 each, which we opted out of because the extended cocktail list just sounded way better. As I sipped on my Pink Lemonade served up, we enjoyed the calzone pizza...so tasty. Just the right amount of spice to it.

Side note: I ate at Pizza Antica on Santana Row (Santa Clara, CA) a little while back, and I was so disappointed. I ordered the Spicy fennel sausage, portobello mushroom and roasted onion. Doesn't that sound delish? Ha. Not so much. For a good pizza in the South Bay, I say try out Piatti Ristorante & Bar at the Rivermark (Santa Clara, CA). Ughhh, a Margherita pizza sounds fantastic right now. Maybe I'll go there tomorrow after work. Yeah, probably.

Instead of getting dessert at Marzano's, I suggested that we got o Ici on College and Ashby in Berkeley. This ice cream spot is a Berkeley treasure. On a nice warm night, the line is easy out the door and makes its way three stores down. It's owner is the former pastry chef at Chez Pannise, Berkeley. Every time I go to Ici, I have to be sure to get the max amount of samples possible because in all honesty, I just have to sneak in as many licks of ice cream as possible. I mean, how often are you going to go to an ice cream parlor where the flavors change daily because they're all house-made? Why not induldge a little bit. After we got our scoops of ice cream we sat at the bench in front of the shop just watching the foot and mobile passerby. Good way to spend a Sunday.

Just to remind you, you better jump on that Restaurant Week deal throughout the South Bay because it's goin' to end on Wednesday. I wish I had the chance to make it somewhere, but whateve.

Umm, oh yeah! One last thing. Check out the new Michelin Guide, SF Bay Area. I feel so cool to have ate at three of those places. You're right, Ninja, it is cool to say that I've been to a dope spot before everyone jumps on the hype. Chyeahhhhh.

There are also a TON of good restaurants that are noteworthy enough that Michelin has a category for those who are ballin' on a budget. Literally. It's called, Bib Gourmand. The restaurants listed here are worth goin' to even if their entrees are under $30 each. Not bad if you ask me...and I'm not just saying that because my restaurant is on there. =]
Off of this list, I would definitely check out Delfina which is right next to Dolores Park in San Francisco. Totally romantic with its big windows facing the street. It's been a while since I've ate there but, regardless, it's really good. I was able to taste the roasted chicken and the oxtail ravioli, the special for the evening. Both were really good. And, they probably have the best biscotti you will ever taste in your life. The older man who was sitting next to me was dipping his biscotti in red wine. I copied him when he left. Wise old man. That was definitely yum. Bib Gourmand is totally right with this place. Light on the pocket with a lot of good food.

I'm sorry I've been really boring lately. Life has just slowed down a little bit and I'm really trying to enjoy this pace. I'm happy with where I'm at, and it's hard to be my goofy-self when I just want to absorb how life can be so great. It's hard to learn and pass it on, when you hardly give yourself time to live. Si o no?

If Dirty Table Had A Twitter...Pt. II

it would say:

I am pretty much awesome, and I have some VERY important friends =] Thank goodness to my very good friend, Krystle I, a radio personality on Wild 94.9's JV morning show. Check the link: http://jv.wild949.com/pages/personality_krystle.html

She posted the event flyer for 'Bokeh' earlier today. This event WILL be dope. Did I not already mention that? Well, plan on being there 'cause if not, you will have missed out on an up and coming spot that the Vallejo area has been waiting for.

Ahh, I love my friends. I'm really blessed to have intelligent, self-driven women as an integral part of my life. Without them I would be no one. And, as my life continues on to bigger and better things, I hope that I can provide them with as much love and support as they have/do for me.

Thank You, Miss Krystle I!

Oh Gah.

Apparently the joke about me working in an Asian Cafe is spreading fast. My cousin, Ryan, thought that it'd be funny to text me this. Again, inappropriate, yet hilarious.


Thanks Ryan. You have officially made my blog. I'm flattered to know that it's images like this that remind you of me...eww.

Ma, You Silly.

I haven't told my parents that I have a job. I didn't want to tell them because they were supposed to fund my move to LA this past September, and backed out literally a week before. Once they gave me the horrible news, I immediately went on a serious job hunt so that I can support the move to LA myself.

Anyway, here is my status update from last night...and the comments that follow. My friends are so inappropriate.

Since I haven't told my parents where I work, dress kinda cute when I leave the house and always come home with Asian food, my mom has come to the conclusion that I work at an Asian cafe. Y'know, one of those cafes. Ma, you silly.

• Debbie and Lam like this.
• Dave: Addy please
• Lam: Hahahah
• Ryan: Be like yeah, mom...an Asian spa and salon...with hidden rooms behind the walls
• Marcus: Lol...you are not a Cafe Girl right??????
• Marcus: I'm sure you'd be amazing by the way ;) lololol >.<
• Me: I'm sure the 100 dollar bills on my desk doesn't help either. No joke. I forreal have that many.

I'm sure my mom thinks that she has me all figured out. I mean, I'm a brave woman, but I don't think I'm brave enough to go wearing lingerie to work just to make some money. However, I am flattered to know that she thinks I'm brave enough to do that line of work. And, she must think that my body is at a reasonable size, because otherwise she would have told me not to do it because I'm chubby, right? Anyway, I'm self-conscious about my body type AND I respect myself a little more than that. I remember I used to go to those kinds of cafes with friends just to play those overly-priced video games. $5 for a Bitnameeh coffee and to see some tig-o-bitties. Fuck that. Those bitches prolly work there because they're paying back their medical bills for the boob job. I'm fine with my 32Bs, thank you. It's called the padding in a WonderBra. Those things do me a lot of justice.

Hey Broke Ass!

This one's for you. Yeah, you. You penny pinchin', 10% tippin' P.O.S.


I kid. Nah, this one's for any of you who want to have a nice meal at the convenient price of $35. San Jose's Metro Magazine sponsors "Silicon Valley Restaurant Week", and it's happening RIGHT NOW! Take advantage of it. Selected restaurants are providing a three course meal with items from their pre-selected menu. This is perfect for those of you who are feeling the full brunt of the recession. I highly advise that you take advantage of this...and if you're lucky maybe you'll bump into me at my restaurant =]

If Dirty Table Had A Twitter...

it would have said:

A customer asked where the restroom was. I guided them back to the hallway and said, "follow the wall display and it will be on your right hand side. Enjoy".

Whoopsie! I wished the person to enjoy their trip to the bathroom. I laughed at myself as I walked back to my desk. It's all route. When I seat guests I usually say 'enjoy' or 'enjoy your meal'. So, wishing them to 'enjoy' their trip to the restroom seemed right at the moment. Except, in this case, did I just wish they to enjoy what they were doin' in the restroom...or eat shit? Thank goodness I didn't say 'enjoy your meal'. That would've been rude. I wonder if they caught that...

Not So Food Related

If there was anyone who did anything big post graduation, it's my roommate-- Randy. He was lucky enough to join a volunteer program whose initiative is to provide clean, flowing water to a village in Tanzania, Africa.
I sparked his interest in bicycles, and once we moved in together he bought one after her realized how much fun I was having with mine =]

Anyway, summer time in downtown Sunnyvale is really nice. Every Wednesday evening there is free live music on the historic Murphy Street. So, Randy and I were able to catch some nice patio seating, happy hour food and drinks at Fibbar MaGee's Pub. Randy is currently in Rio de Janiero, Brazil. He makes my life look pathetic. And, I just miss him. Anyway, just a couple pictures.



I honestly believe this is the guy who may have invented this contraption. He was literaly weaving through all of the foot traffic during the live concert. Some people who were sitting on the patio with us were so drunk that they got up to ask the guy permission to try it out for themselves. I think this thing is a sorry excuse for people who can't ride a normal scooter. I guess it's a good workout for the hips. Old people need that shit.


This is Randy's vision of me after about...5 drinks. And that's me debating if he's worth swoopin' up the bill on.

I can't wait until downtown Sunnyvale is fully revamped. Apparently it's going to be the next Santana Row. Otherwise, there's nothing else to do in Sunnyvale besides get drunk and go to downelink.com's monthly parties at...what's that place called now? Abyss?

Mmm...food.

Damn, are we in the work week already? I must say that I'm pretty blessed to have the weekend off. It is slightly odd that someone in the service industry, like myself, has their weekends off. In lieu of that, I've been eating out a lot lately. And, I thought it'd be nice to share, and slightly brag, the list of places that I've been to over the past few weeks.

Trust me, I wouldn't list these places if they weren't noteworthy. So, if you ever feel so inclined to spend a pretty penny, I do highly recommend any of these.

I ate at Commis last night =] Definitely affordable for those with the college-burdened/Sallie Mae-owing wallet. Cute little spot tucked away on Piedmont Avenue in Oakland. I personally think we sat at the best table in the house...the two top at the front of the house overlooking the street. Naturally, the pretty lady gets to see the street *points to self*, while my other half got a good view of the open kitchen. Let's just say we both got to look at what we wanted to look at. We were to choose one dish from each course, total of three, and we got the wine pairings. All-in-all, the two-top probably runs around $180. Not bad considering how delightfully tasty everything was. I gotta say, I felt like I was Goldliocks...everything was juuuuuust right.

A couple weeks back I ate at the Bouchon Bistro in the Napa Valley, which is a product of French Laundry (haven't been there yet, and I'm not sure if I'm up for it), also in the Napa Valley. Oh! Oh! Fun Fact: The movie Ratatouille is loosely based off of Executive Chef Thomas Keller's kitchen at the French Laundry. I don't lie. Watch the behind the scenes, duh! Anyway, Bouchon was good. I wish that I could give a real critique on the food, but tastes are just as new to me as the next guy. What I will say, though, is that it was a perfect late lunch food for four people who had been drinking wine all day. My friends and I shared a few apps and two entrees. Since we pretty much shared everything, the tab didn't do too much damage.

I also did some wine tasting. I honestly didn't know that wine tasting in Napa was so cheap! At Domaine Chandon (Yountville, CA), it was only $25 per person which includes 4 half glasses. I didn't eat anything before I went here...so four half glasses was more than enough. Check out their commercial. Pretty clever if you ask me.

Side note: Why do companies that distribute alcohol make people enter their birthday's before they are granted full access to the website? I mean, seriously, that's just stupid for two reasons:

1. how the fuck are you going to know if the person who is trying to gain access is really over 21? You gonna make them hold up their ID to their webcam so you can check it yourself? Puhhhhlease. And...
2. not even porn sites ask for birthdays...not that I know anything about that. *Pause* Maybe. *Looks Away* Whatever. That's besides the point. What the hell are we trying to teach our youth nowadays? You can't look at stupid websites that display alcohol that children probably don't have access to, but you can have sex...or at least live vicariously through whoever is givin' or gettin' it on the porn. I'm just sayin'. Am I the only one who has issues with that?

Moving along...

V. Sattui Winery, Napa, CA. We went here after we went to Domaine Chandon. I don't think it was a good idea for any of us to have gone here because we were drinking on empty stomachs. This inevitably meant that Jenny got the rosiest cheeks ever...AKA Asian glow. I really hate that term, but it's the only real way to describe it. Walking into this place I seriously felt out of place. It was weird because it looked wayyyyyy more laid back than Chandon, but no one wanted to help us. We were barely even greeted. I really resent the fact that judgment is passed right away when a group of young minorities walk into a place that they're not typically found in. I mean, we all have the right to be there and have a good time like everybody else. You don't gotta be shady or act like you don't want my business. Only I'm allowed to be mean to Asian people. But that's because I am Asian and we're probably related. Just keeeeding. Anyway, each of us were able to taste 8 different wines for about $10 per person. Pretttttttty good. They have a bottle called, Madera. I recommend it. It has a little bit of brandy in it. When I took my first sniff at it I felt like I was slapped on the face, but the taste was really surprising sweeter than how it smelled. That's a weird word to look at, smelled.

Last but not least, the Boon Fly Cafe, Napa Valley, CA. Probably the best burger I've had in a long time. Our server wasn't really that experienced because he had to keep going back to ask his superior the questions that we were asking. I forgive him, I remember what it was like cocktailing and serving for the first time. Customers always seem to ask the most off the wall questions the first time you serve. Like, fuhhh, I don't know. So, I can understand why he was so jumpy. It was pretty expensive for a shared dinner and apps, $140 for a four top. Nonetheless, it was still tasty and I was accompanied by good people. Half of the enjoyment of a good dinner is to be there with good people. So, I consider myself lucky because I don't know anyone who isn't worth having sit across from me as we eat. Check out the virtual tour, though. Go in all directions: up, down, right, left. Kinda makes me feel like I'm in outter space.


Well, that's all folks. I don't know if I'm eating out next week...or if I plan to. But there's something that I do plan on attending that has some food there...
Ninja will be doing a cooking demo and providing samples. It's gonna be dope...and it would be really nice to see some familiar faces. I don't know folks from the hood. I'm afraid of the hood. Hit me up. I'd love for you to join me.


All photos taken from the respective venue.

And the award goes to...

I love working private parties. No, not those kinds of private parties you sicko. I'm talking about the birthday, company, weddings and film festival celebrations. These are always fun because you know there has to be at least one person in the batch of people who's going to cross the line. And the Academy goes to...


Best Maid of Honor Speech
"Do you know how Jessica and Tim met?" People reluctantly nod their heads. "For those of you who aren't aware they met on a website about 11 months back. Have you ever heard of myspace.com"? My coworkers and I all cringe. Instead of witnessing the typical tear-jerking testimonial, we all walked back to the kitchen to either laugh or gossip about how idiotic the Maid of Honor was. What was even better about this particular speech is...well...it didn't get any better. And, on top of that, there was a camera crew to document the entire thing. That poor bride. The last thing I would want is for that speech to be put onto a video that I can watch to remind me of how stupid my best friend is. I would seriously consider poppin' a cap on the person who made me feel stupid at my own wedding.

Best Man Speech Winner
"Jack and I were college roommates and I promised his parents that I could always keep my eye on him. So, when he was too lazy to get out of bed to go to class I did exactly what I promised. I stayed in bed, too"


Cutest Old Woman Award

Honestly, this woman was seriously the cutest thing. I was her server one evening when the City of San Jose invited her to celebrate the anniversary of this famous photo being taken. Yep, that's her. I met her and she was absolutely charming. She usually attends San Jose's Remember the 40's event during the summer at Kelley Park.

Best Wannabe Coyote Ugly Dancer
I was working the Cinequest Premier party in which all the filmmakers, crew and actors were to celebrate the beginning of an eventful week. So, my restaurant hosted a DJ, appetizers and various drinks to our very special guests. Apparently, there was a wanna be Slumdog Millionaire boy in the crowd. He didn't blend in with everyone else because he was young...and flamboyantly gay. It's ok, I love gender diversity. Anyway, I was doing my normal cocktail gig and this boy approaches me. He had puny little arms, overly-emo hair (the sideswipe), and wore extremely tight clothing. I swear, if there were any sizes smaller than what he was already wearing it probably would have been a XXXS and he still would have looked freakishly skinny. He comes up to me one hand on his hip and the other doin' that wrist action shit.

"Excuse me." I look up and smile. I try to make my smile look genuine. C'mon boy, you're killin'me.

"Yes", I reply.

"I really love this music right now, and I was wondering if I can dance on the table." He winces.

"Umm, sorry I don't think that's safe."

"Really? Not even that one over there?" He points to a round cocktail table. I mean, the tabletop itself was only 2ft in diameter and it stands about chest high.

"I'm sorry, but that's just not safe."

He walks away and swear to Geebus he flipped his hair at me. WTF? Hahah. He goes back and dances with his little friends. All that boy needed was a nice purse to have dangle from his little arm and he would've been set. As much as I would have loved to see him dance on top of that cocktail table, I had to resist and made sure no one got killed. My restaurant couldn't afford a lawsuit because I need a job.

Best Comedian
Michael McDonald came in once after he performed at the Improv. Nothin' particularly exciting happened except that I got to serve him and his friends a bottle of wine, but I'm just gonna throw him on here for good measure. He's a fuckin' hilarious man. Damn, thank you Mad TV.

I will say though that, in person, his eyes are remarkably gorgeous. They're like a heaven-blue color.


Party for 2 Award
Alright, so for some odd reason I had some weird shit goin' on at one restaurant. This particular place was chosen for singles to come and meet up with each other on blind dates. Party for 2 is actually a dating service company that matches hopeful singles with one another. Jim walks in. He's a man whose probably in his late 50s and hasn't got much action in his lifetime. His comb-over hair looked as though he had just had it dyed for this special occasion. I greet him as he comes in and offer him a cocktail table to wait at. For the most part he was kind, but he looked like he was sweating bullets. Teri, his date, walks in. She's a very good looking woman who's wearing a business casual outfit, high heels and dark sunglasses. She hides between the corner of my desk and the wall. She asks, "I'm here for Party for 2. Has Jim checked in."

"Yes, he has. He's sitting right over there. Would you like me to introduce you?"

She looks over at him. "Shit, I knew his picture isn't who he says he is. I'm going to call the restaurant and you're going to pick up the phone. Just tell him I had a family emergency and I couldn't make it."

"Sure", I say.

She dashes out of the restaurant in a hurry. The phone rings and I do exactly as instructed to do. I approach Jim and tell him the horrible news. I won't lie, I felt terrible. He ordered a glass of wine. Paid. Then, left. Poor Jim.

Best Russian Coworker
I know this is supposed to be for guests, but this one has to go in the books. I had a coworker named, Daniela. She was from Russia. He husband was significantly older than her, and she met him here while she was on a Student Visa. Something fishy? Maybe, but she was sweet so it doesn't matter. Daniela spoke very good English, but there were times that she got caught up. One day she came in with a cold sore on her lip. No big deal. It's just a cold sore. It's not like it was a boil or anything. Anyway, we were talking about how the cold weather is starting to slow down business and people are starting to stay in because they don't want to get sick. Daniela says, "I don't want to serve tables today because I'm getting sick. And, I want this herpe to go away."

"What?! Omg, Daniela, don't say that aloud! People don't want to hear that. And, it's not even a herpe. You have a cold-sore."

"What's it called," she asks.

"A cold-sore", I say. I turn to walk away, and she grabs my ass. WTF? Damn, maybe she is one freaky little thang after all.



The Hella Moded Award
At this time, I was a host. And we use this service called Open Table. This particular person requested for the most romantic table in the restaurant because he was going to propose to his girlfriend. Naturally, that's what we do. They arrive and it looks like its going great. The other servers and I just stand around as we usually do. Their server, Oliver, wasn't excited about this couple because every dinner that he's served where one of the guests proposes to each other has been rejected.

Third times a charm? Nope, maybe Oliver is bad luck. The girlfriend is obviously very upset and leaves. The guy sits by himself, pays the bill, and leaves the restaurant. Yikes, I guess we're not seeing him any time soon.

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Bokeh Oct. 17th

This is the event I'm helping with. Save the date and circulate the flyer if you feel so inclined. It's gonna be dope, and it would be a shame if you missed out.

My 21st Birthday.

For a good year or so I was considered the baby at my restaurant. You know that under-aged hostess in the movie 'Waiting'. That was me. I tried to get sassy with the guys in the front of the house. I think after a week of working at this particular restaurant one of the bartenders had slipped me his phone number. Kinda awkward because I was...19? He was definitely in his late 20's. Flattering, yes. If anything, I'm sure he was interested because 1) I was young which equals naive and 2) these guys seemed to have the hots for the Asian girls...if I can even include myself in that category.

My 21st birthday was fast approaching, and everyone knew I was really excited. Mostly because about 7 months before I got drunk at work and passed out in the bathroom...which is a story that I'd be happy to tell when I muster up the courage to do so. My birthday landed on a Monday, so my boss told me to come into the restaurant on Sunday night at 10pm so we can celebrate it midnight. Shit, alright. Cool.

I decided that I'd bring a good friend-- Manang Krys. This girl knows how to get down, and she was always the one who promoted under-age drinking. We go into the restaurant and I indulged in my first cocktail...Ferrari Martini. Blueberry infused vodka, splash of triple sec and a squeeze of lemon. Yum. Ok, to tell you the truth I probably had about 3 of those before midnight rolled around. Once all of my coworkers were clocked out we walked over to their default kick it spot: Dive Bar. That's actually it's name. Clever, huh? Apparently my coworkers knew the folks behind the bar there and we had jagger shots galore. Anything I wanted I got it. And so did Krystle. She sure got enough out of my coworker who had been trying to hit on me the past year. Jealous? Of course not.

After having about 3 shots of jagger at Dive, I can honestly tell you that my memory is all in and out from here. Not really the best story I've ever told, but I guess this is just me openly admitting that I have no recollection of what happened. When 1:30 hit, we all walked over to our friends apartment off of Santa Clara and Fifth. I had never seen my coworkers so...unprofessional. There they are hot boxing the bathroom, chugging beers, doing lines, and making out with each other. My view on life and the restaurant industry has officially become tainted. After all the ass kissing they've just done, they gotta have some fun on their own. Choose your poison wisely.

I woke up the next morning on a bed. My back was faced toward whoever was on the bed next to me and directly in front of me was a window. I remember that the breeze that was blowing through was what woke me up. The first thing I did was patted my hands over my boobs, stomach and pants just to make sure that I wasn't naked. People make mistakes when they're completely plastered, and let me tell you I am a brave one when I got the courage juice in me. I turned around and there is my guy coworker...and a woman on the other side. Fully dressed? For the most part. I hope my drunk ass didn't do any major cock blocking. I hop out of bed, woke up Krys who wass spooning on the couch with my other coworker, and we do the walk of shame back to the restaurant to get our cars. A memorable 21st birthday and introduction to legal insobriety. Or, something like that.