New York, One Gay Date At A Time

Can't send Gmail

Thank you for your great response to my "The Modern restaurant" post. The out-pour has really helped me realize that this is just a very short term moment in my life. Things do happen and well I'll get over it. It's a minor annoying bump in the road, after all, it's the injustice that got to me. Now it seems a bit more right that more people know how unfair this restaurant is to it's employees and how just they truly claim to be.

Now, due to the response I've gotten and the amount of emails I've sent, I seem to have lost my ability to send emails (yet I can receive). I normally respond to each and every email that I receive, good-bad-or-indifferent. Now I just can't. So I will in a few days.

Thank you for reading and thank you for the love, it has truly cheered me up. Hugs to everyone. This too will pass as many of you have stated and I now agree.

The Land of Disposible People

It's official. I received the letter stating that I will not be getting unemployment anymore. I have been in damage control mode. The events of this past week have completely blindsided me. I feel violated yet again by an industry that I have devoted so much energy and time to. I know I'm not alone in my feelings, after all this is the society that we have created. We have created a land where people are disposable, I do not want to preach. I just think that humans caring for humans is an arcane thought. My generation is the generation of self-satisfied-young-ones who know simply, that they must watch their backs to survive and thrive.

Right now I sit here typing with much vodka in my system. I truly know that this moment in my life will lead to improvement in my craft. I chose to write with social themes in mind because we are truly a young society. To see who we are, that is my challenge. I usually don't write with my own voice, I have mastered the art of creating others to speak for me (in the literary sense). Now I am truly saddened, I write with the voice of a man, one hoping for the best, one that has long ago given up on truly believing in people. For these are the times of change, these are the times when men rise up. These are the times when we fall complacent. When one man gives up on democracy and thriving, we all loose a little. Such is society and we are all connected.

The managers that often hound me, the guests that have blamed me for their lives. I have peered into their lives before. I have seen them. I know them to be lonely and normally quiet.

I thought for a while. That I should bring suit against this company in small claims court, it would fit my mission statement as an artist. Yet this bold move would take much energy. To participate in our democracy in such a way would take the luxury of time. The Modern has clearly violated the law. Employees should get a break to at least eat. I don't have the means to stand up. For this I should be blamed. They have broken the law and violated Section 162 of the labor law stating that employees are required to have a break. Funny that they disobey the law each day, yet I have a challenge living and living my dream.

I have yet again been done in by a guest and the ever changing political structure of a restaurant. She wanted something for free and waiters are truly easy to blame, waiters can't talk back. People don't even know waiters are really around. People that have knowledge and true power, they do. They know that waiters are people. The challenge becomes when people with no power and no means to express their own existence, sit at a table, eat at a restaurant and chose to have miserable lives, then they become angered and perplexed and find things to blame. I have looked into their lives and they sit at home alone and mostly upset with the unfair world.

I wonder what the future of our young world is, yes we have created laws that protect people, more and more companies seem to work within these laws to control and saturate our American lives.

I told the unemployment case worker the following, apparently the representative that spoke to her from The Modern was far more eloquent then I was.

"On Wednesday February 1st at the end of my shift I was informed by Graceanne “I don’t want to waste your time. You do not fit in, your managers have been waiting for you to shape up and you just haven’t. We’re letting you go.” During the shift I made the honest mistake of ringing in a Veal Terrine when the guest wanted an Upside Down Tuna Tarte, also a very irate and bitter Restaurant Week guest was very upset that she found onions in her eggplant caviar. She was also distraught over the lack of vegetarian options on the Restaurant Week menu; after she had gleefully ordered and devoured the Sweet Georgia Shrimp. She succeeded in getting the dining room manager who handled the complaint to remove her restaurant week menu from the check. This had been the guest’s goal. I had overheard the conversation, yet the manger handling the complaint wouldn’t listen to me."

I have decided to share with you, my reader, the letters sent. You can make up your own mind.

Letter sent to Danny Meyer.
Download unemployment.termination.pdf

The letter I've received informing me of the cancellation of my unemployment.
Download unemployment.termination.pdf

I will try and appear before a judge to appeal this decision, yet in the mean time I must tend to such mundane matters as trying to pay my bills and eating, while trying to feel less vulnerable.

Hopefully I'll have this blog and my life soon in order maybe soon my upside down life will turn right again. Maybe, we will take care of each other and companies will not believe that people are disposable. I know it's wishful thinking.

Thank you for reading

AG

[Previous post. Trying to make Lemonade]
[The picture is of Robert Oppenheimer]
[Another has the same experience I've had]

Add to the only in New York section

So me and my best friend are in the same boat, we decided to pool our resources in our moment of poverty. Between the both of us we currently have $18.19.

We wanted to buy pizza tonight, yet realized that most of that money was on credit cards that are nearing over-limit status.

Basically I assessed the fridge and turned one tomato, a few days old ground pork, two eggs and some flour into -

Poached beef Wellington with plum tomatoes and sauce tomate.

I'm glad I went to gourmet cooking school. We should have taken a picture. I made it extra pretty. Yet it was devoured quickly.

Click On This

Entertain yourselves with the archives.

Okay, today I have a lead on a cute little bistro in the village, that has good food, doesn't abuse waitstaff and has no more then twenty tables. I'm looking forward to it. My friend works for them and really likes the place.

I don't know if the bistro will work out. Yet I need to find a source of income. I think the unemployment people are going to rule in The Moderns favor. So that means that I'll have had no income for the past few weeks and will be in serious limbo. I also feel bad because I can't work on my writing with the fervor I need so I can succeed.

UGH. I think it's so wrong, Just so wrong, that I could be fired over such stupidity. I just feel like there is this wrong thing, that I have to do something about and I don't know what that is.

The French Protests

Funny, the protests in France are over job security. Something that for me, is such a strange concept.

As a New York waiter I can't even begin to fathom the concept is being employed longer then eight months. French youth are fighting over the right of a young person to be terminated without cause (among other things). Sigh. I agree with them. Someone shouldn't be fired without cause. It's actually a mind boggling concept. At will termination. On a whim for any reason. It's strange that the protests in L.A. are also about Labor, our need to support ourselves. The right for a better and more stable life.

Yes there are other things at stake and other thoughts. The main concept, so simple, is our right for a better life. Some are better at fighting for it then others.

Officially a New Yorker

I think its the unspoken moment one graduates to true New Yorker status. When one meets people that they've worked with, in a decent restaurant,they  exchange pleasantries, don't want to talk to each other and politely ask the host for another table.

I was very stressed running from meeting to meeting and wanted a fabulous lunch (this was a few weeks ago, when I could afford such luxuries). I walked by Fleur de Sel a little upscale bistro I've always wanted to try.

I enter and got a table.  My boss, is right there. My old boss. Okay maybe not my boss at The Modern. Yet this person fained friendship, didn't stand by me and was in a position of leadership. Basically I hate her turncoat ass.

I was being sat at a table next to her. I tried not to scream on the outside, as I'm screaming on the inside. I pretend not to notice that I'm being sat next to her. We shake hands, do air kisses, she politely asks me to join her at the table next to her. I politely ask the host for a table across the room. I'm actually surprised how accommodating the host is and how unflinching she is. I guess this sort of thing happens all the time. It is a small restaurant and a small city non-the-less.

Regarding the restaurant, it was good, at three courses for 25 dollars. Totally a steal. The parsnip soup was lightly garnished with truffle oil and perfect as can be.  Hake, a light white fish, was excellent in its port wine reduction. The desert and service rocked. For the price this restaurant is offering for lunch, it's an amazing value.

Now I have to go on a tirade about sauce spoons. Restaurants are starting to provide guests with fish knives and sauce spoons. Yet both are completely unnecessary.  Maybe, it's possible this new culinary trend has to do with new and improved education.

The fish knife (yes I know the history behind a full range of cutlery) is shaped in such a way to take the bones of a fillet. Yet any restaurant really does take the bones off for you and I have to say, that in all the faults I find with restaurants, I've never actually found or served a fish bone in the fish. So it's sort of pointless, just sort of annoying to eat with.

Sauces spoons are another pet-peeve. Really, they are unnecessary. I've never seen someone actually make use of them. Besides the fact that one can't actually pick up the sauce with a sauce spoon and they're mostly meant for service: to artfully drizzle something onto a plate. I don't get it.

Next time I encounter such awkwardness. I'm actually going to request regular cutlery. Now there's an ethical consideration to this request. How badly do I want to get my server fired. Yes, when I've worked at hard to work at places. I've gotten this request. I wasn't able to fulfill it because I knew the management would get very upset with me for replacing the all important specialty silver with just boring old guest request silver. So yes, I would have to take that into consideration, do I really want to get my server in trouble because I can't really stand a fish knife and a sauce spoon.

Truly the things one has to put up with when eating out in this city is a gas (insert laughter here).

 

Check out pictures of the food.

 

Competing For a Man

A while ago, while mingling at a cotillion I met a boy. A really hot Aussie who had just come to the states and has been in New York for about six months. The only problem was, I wasn't the only one he met. He ... for some reason, wanted to build a group. I hung on, simply because, well I wanted to. He was cute, I thought like everyone else... that I'd have a chance. If not for something substantial at least to have some fun and make new friends.

The problem with this strategy was how truly oblivious he was, to the fact that men were hitting on him. He didn't deflect, encourage or seem to understand the flirting that was going on. I don't know how they do it ... in the land down under. Here in New York, the goal is to build a compatible group (friends, get your minds out of the gutter).

So as we bar hopped, we ended up picking up, in our dust-trail, an actor into leather (looking for work), one accountant from New Jersey and a sales-rep from Long Island. The hot Aussie and I were the only locals (he being a transplant, I being a local). The guy from Long Island also considered himself a local but I knew otherwise.

I didn't want too much, just to have fun. The circle of boys quickly seeing they had no chance with me. I've done all the dating off the island I'd ever care to. Never again will I get my ass on the PATH train to be picked up by a boy who might or might not be there, depending on his mood. Shudder the memories. Also actors into leather - not going there. These men could all be nice people and potential friends. The only problem being, that Aussie boy was batting eyes at all of them. All of them, all three vastly different men. Okay, all four of us. Yes I too wanted his attention much like a moth to an open flame.

My patience ran thin, quickly right when we got to a bar where they playing a cute little mail box game, everyone had a number on. The hot Aussie immediately had his box full and had no courtesy of actually returning any of the messages.

I quickly came to the conclusion; that this man was worse at ... then even I am at flirting. So yes. I said it. This is when I gently made my way to other endeavors such as ordering another drink. Realizing that I wanted to talk to no one else in the bar, I went home, not wishing to compete.

I didn't loss much, he did work in the insurance industry. I think that would've made him a rather dull boyfriend. I just wonder why he felt the need to gather so many incompatible men around him.

Trying to make Lemonade

I've had a strange little week, two unrelated, unscheduled events are making it really tough for me. First I feel like I'm trapped in the movie Garden State as I come off the Celexa, I've had headaches. For the past week or so I've been waking up at 8am on the dot, no matter what. Also I've been creating static, this is one side-effect I was totally unaware off.

I actually drained the juice out of my iPod. Spent a really long time wondering why this happened. Then after an all night crying spell, it dawned on me. I'm getting off a strong drug. Honestly, if the effects of the drug leaving my system are this strong. I don't think I'll be taking anti-depressants ever ever again. I mean really, a spark of static flew out of my body and drained my iPod, that is some serious stuff.

Also

My unemployment checks have also stopped, my employer is challenging, stating that they had cause for my termination. I can't get over the disciplinary action for eating bread. So I've included the official document, for all to see, I was thinking of framing this most ridicules of all things that have lead to my dismissal. The document will always baffle and anger me. The write up for eating bread.

I guess I should be grateful that they didn't cut off my hand in the old country, or make a musical about me on Broadway, that would truly be punishing. Yet I did loose my job and the only two official reasons given to me at the time were eating bread and having a wrinkled shirt at work.

Sorry the file is pretty big, click on the thumbnail to see the document.

I'm going to be sleeping for the rest of the day. Sigh.

Links to previous posts:
High Crimes and Misdemeanors 
The Modern, the MOMA Museum Restaurant
A tale of Two Restaurants

iPod in a Bar

For some reason I've noticed a trend, men with iPods in bars, yes as the music is playing. They mostly keep to the back of the room and watch. I wonder about then, sometimes they're very well dressed. I've noticed a man with an iPod in almost every bar I was at last week.

They could be following me, I could have a legion of Men-in-iPods following me, yet I doubt that this is the case. I'm not that popular, at least not now, maybe it's the Secret Service or the FBI and they don't want to contaminate themselves with gay pop music.

These Men-in-iPods always seem to be chilling in the back of the drinking establishment, trying to act very cool. I wonder if the white cords in their ears are meant to separate them from the rest of the bar. Or maybe they want to get noticed. I haven't talked to any of them, simply because I assume - that when someone is listening to music, they want to be left to their tunes. After all, maybe three year old Madonna isn't what they're into, which is quite understandable. Or maybe they want to listen to four year old Madonna, thinking they could somehow act like a virgin, innocent and quiet waiting for someone to hit on them.

There are lots of possibilities, after all the cult of iPod has now expanded to legions of followers in bars. I mean there isn't support or proven statistics, that there are legions. I just don't want to overlook the obvious or the simply odd.

So yes, I'm dumbfounded. Really why are men listing to iPods in a bars? Give me another vodka soda please.

The Need to Impress

I was bar hoping last night and found one of my characters. Every once in a while, I meet someone that I’ve actually created or am planning to create, this fascinates me. I’ll call it professional interest and I take interest in them for just that reason. 

I entered Pieces and the show was going on. The fifty dollar pyramid or some-such bar non-sense. He’s on stage wearing a kemp orange cereal shirt, it states KiXs in large green letters, his hand is playing with his tussled unkempt hair; he screams "I've had too much to drink".

This is when the drag queen asks him what he does, the other boys on stage are students at NYU or other colleges. One very sexy French boy teaches the audience how to say “I’m a whore.” In what I think is almost perfect Parisian. Okay maybe I'm tone deaf because he's cute. (Side note: I don't understand why men of his generation feel like they need to pluck their eyebrows, shrug)

The kid in the orange KiXs shirt lifts his hand, proudly states "I own my own business."
The drag queen asks "what business dearie", "a massage parlor, I'm a whore."
Drag Queen "Oh my, lets play the game."

After the game is done, the cute boys stage buddies have left, apparently to have a threesome. I find this out latter, from the sexy one. He's sort of teetering by the pool table and we're making eye contact. I talk to him, ask him what going on. We talk, he tells me he's 26. I don't think he's a day over 21 but my best friend chastises me for this later. I think he looks young yes, but what truly gives away his age, is how he puts his words together scattered trying to impress.

I confess "I'm a writer" he goes on to say. "People respect you for the money you make." This line immediately sealed it for me, I turned into a stalker, well not really ... cute boy just tells me, he's off to another party and I follow shortly. Meeting him there. We dance. We dance in a way that can only attract attention as we come closer to each other. He's very drunk at this point. I don't offer to buy him a drink. Yet he insists he wants more. He insists that he has his own money.

Dancing into the night, he starts hitting on other men, men that are only attractive when someone is really and truly drunk. I try to find out more about him and his business. All he can say, "I own a place on 34th Street" "I'm a whore."

With every word he smiles as he gets more and more fucked up. I have to leave, he follows me out. I try and kiss him. He takes out his phone but doesn't ask for my number, I think he wants me to ask for his, I'm not sure, he's lost the ability to string whole sentences together. Desperately, yes I'll admit it. "Do you want to come with me?" I ask, "I don't go home with someone I've just meet" he responds, I sigh and go home. I don't ask him to come home with me out of my desperation but from his desperation as he wanders.

He goes back to hitting on men that only look cute when you're very very drunk.