Tardes negras

The day has come, and I am in shock. Went to work tonight with Joe, just another Tuesday. Janet had told me earlier that she had taken a couple pictures of Edgar dancing with Greg's band last night, and frankly I'm glad she did, mostly because I can't imagine him participating in the festivities. He just isn't that kind of guy. Edgar was (foreshadowing) the kind of guy that would just sort of hang out by the window and do the least amount of work possible. Sometimes he would dance a little by the bar, but not as much as, say, Rafa or Roberto. So these pictures she had were something to behold (for me anyway).

But when I get to work tonight, most of the boys are downstairs having dinner, and I watched as they resurfaced: Jesus, Rafa, Roberto, Ever, Adrian... Dante shows up.... looking.... looking... hmmm. Where the heck is Edgar?

When there was still no sign of him by 9:30 or so, I asked Rafa, who was standing with me showing me pictures on his phone (I am not kidding, EVERYone has a better phone than me). He gave me the internationally known hand signal for "we fired his ass" - the hand slashing the throat gesture. ¡Que lastima!

Inside I felt my heart sink (seriously, I need motivation to do anything, all I am asking for is a little bit of scenery). We chatted about it, and I guess it happened last night at the end of the night. He just doesn't do anything, and his manner with customers isn't great, and he barks orders to Adrian, and the list goes on. It's been coming for some time, but of course it has to happen NOW, after I got to have a nice chit chat with him Sunday night (mind you, he should have been doing anything other than chit chatting with me at the time, but that's beside the point). I guess I should be happy I got at least that. Just look at the muscle tone on that boy (I know, I am the only one who sees it, but I know it's there). By the way, he's the one in the black shirt next to Greg in the chef's get up.



Hasta luego, Edgar. It was nice having you around. For me, anyway. (¡Que me duele!)



Okay, enough of that.

During our first break, while the band B4 was entertaining the 4 tables we had at 11pm (good Lord), Joe was sitting by the window, and I was sitting at the bar. There is a nice breeze there so it's a good place to dry off. Near the end of B4's set, I see Joe get out of his chair and walk toward me. Then he stopped and said, "Oh my God!" and shakes his head. I looked at him, like, what? He says, "I'm not even gonna tell you." And I said, "Well you HAVE to tell me now!" So he says, "A cockroach landed on your back, crawled up to your shoulder, and just as I was coming over to knock it off you, it took off flying across the room." I swear to God I thought he was kidding, hoped he was kidding, but he was not. Holy Mary, mother of God. He said it was big, 2.5 to 3 inches, and apparently he has never seen one fly before. His biggest concern seemed to be that it flew across the room and was in there still somewhere, as opposed to MY biggest concern, I HAD A BIG ASS COCKROACH ON MY BACK AND SHOULDER AND DID NOT EVEN KNOW IT. Who gives a shit where it WENT, it was ON me! Madre de Dios... After that you can bet I felt EVERYTHING, real or imagined.

I hope I can sleep tonight, it's been a pretty rough one....

...porque la vida duele
duele demasiado aqui sin ti...