Hal-isms, Vol. 60

"She's watching Traveling With Angels or Ten Wives in Atlanta."

"If I click there I'm liable to find pornographic content."

"You should be watchin' Blue Bloods. There's three things going on at once!"

"When you change things it changes things."

"I just wanna say to you that when we disagree...I still love you."

That's like 15 gallons

Sunday Favorites: Wait, You Can't Microwave Metal?

New to A Lady Reveals Nothing? You've missed SO MUCH. Not to worry. Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite. Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day. Enjoy! This story originally appeared when I was waiting tables in International Falls way back on July 24, 2010:




A couple nights a week I wait tables and bartend at a local resort lodge.  I used to think I was a smart cookie, back when I worked in an office cubicle.  But that's because we didn't have to know things like: 

1. It's not OK to pick up the 468 degree dishes out of the dishwasher with a towel, so as not to burn your hand. Unsanitary.
2. Bars close at 1AM. It's not OK to stay open after that, even if your customers insist.
3. People under 21 are not allowed to drink, and so you should really confirm people's age by asking to see their identification.
4. You really can't carry that much stuff in your arms or you're going to drop it in front of everybody.
1. It's easier to bring a tub and clear the table than it is to clear it one dish at a time.
5. You not only have to clock in when you get to work, you have to clock out when you're done.
6. Pork tenderloin comes with cream sauce, and if the cook forgets the sauce, you should remind him to put it on there because people notice missing sauce.
7. Don't walkie talkie the owner to come here, without telling him why.

See what I mean? Lots to know. Don't get me started on the use of the register.

Tonight, a table of two arrived before I was completely ready for them, and I noticed that the buns in the warmer were still frozen. WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO??? Oh right, we have a microwave. Crisis averted. The more experienced waitress told me to just throw the whole ziplock baggie (filled with six dinner rolls) into the microwave for like 20 seconds.  But, she didn't realize that I won't microwave plastic, and also I really only needed two rolls. So I took the bread basket, wrapped up the two necessary rolls in the cloth napkin that goes in the bread basket, and chucked the whole thing in the microwave and patted myself on the back for being so SMART. These buns would be ready to bring to the table when the 20 seconds were up.

As I stood there in front of the microwave, I rolled my eyes at the faulty equipment. Lights were flashing on and off inside. Sparking, almost. "Crappy microwave," I muttered under my breath. Then I saw a flame.  

And then it dawned on me. Apparently there is metal in the bread basket. I almost burned down the Lodge, folks.

This right here is a member of Mensa

The House, Vol. 9

Framing the upstairs went so quickly I couldn't believe it! Here it is from the back and side:

The House, Vol. 8

Here's me, in my new kitchen, under my new bedroom and the new second floor loft floor where there used to be no roof and before that it was a dining room: (got that?)

Minnesota March Moron

We have had some uncommonly warm weather here in Minnesota this month. I don't know how I got so lucky but we had a couple of weeks of t-shirt weather for my project.

My future bedroom

You know what? I couldn't wait. I had to sleep under the stars in my future bedroom. Here's me wakin' up at some ungodly hour because it was only nice and warm during the day apparently and I was f-f-f-f-f-f-f-reezing in March sleeping outside. But I did it!

The House, Vol. 7

...and then where there was no roof, we made a loft floor:

Douglas fir beams and joists

Beata, my hammer-wielding friend

I don't know why my brother-in-law trusts me to use power tools, but he does and so sometimes I'm air-nailing and sometimes I'm making cuts on a table cutter thingee. I cut all of these wall studs:

Just look at these perfect cuts! Forty studs, all precisely measured at 65 3/8" or something like that. I can't remember. The important thing is that day I did remember and I cut them and so technically I built this whole house by myself.

My future bedroom

Barn Door Slider

Here's the old pile of boards that were torn off from my old roof. Beata's going to help me repurpose them into a new barn door slider for my main-floor bathroom and also for paneling for my half-wall in the loft. 

Stay tuned on that project...

Example of a barn door slider. Stolen from Hgtv.com

Chewing Gum

The resort where we stayed in Cancun had a fancy Italian restaurant where we ate most nights. After a long day of reading books and doing nothing on the beach, we'd all head up to our rooms, shower and meet back downstairs for a delicious meal and drinks. There were eleven of us, and so we had to be split up at two tables.

We wore our best dresses and drank wine and were very, very fancy.

Look how fancy!

After dinner the first night, I stood up to go and chat with the other table. We discussed what they ate and how good it was. An older man who worked at the restaurant came up to me and grabbed my arm and dragged me back to the table where I was sitting, to the spot where I was eating. He seemed very agitated when he said to me, "PLEASE DO NOT PUT YOUR GUM UNDER THE TABLE CLOTH." 

The staff were changing out the linens and sure enough, at my spot, under the table cloth was a piece of gum.

YOU GUYS. It was NOT MINE.

We were eating fancy! I would never put my gum under the tablecloth! It was seriously way up underneath, so whoever did it had to pull up three yards of fabric and shove it up under there, on the pad underneath. 

I said, "Sir, that's not mine."

He poked it and said, "FRESH."

I poked it. 

It was fresh. 

But you guys!!! It was NOT. MINE. I repeated myself. "Sir, I am telling you that gum is NOT MINE."

He was so disgusted with me and so finally I just shrugged my shoulders and walked away.

Does this look like somebody who just shoved GUM under her fancy tablecloth?

The story doesn't end here, unfortunately.

The next night, I was nervous to go back there, but I decided to get over myself and just do it. I sat down and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the man. Out of the corner of my other eye, I noticed one of my friends putting her gum on a little plate next to her dinner plate. I didn't have any time to warn her.

Here comes the waiter (not the same man, but he came straight from talking to the man). He handed her a paper napkin and said, "please put your gum in this paper napkin. And anyone else at this table *here he looked STRAIGHT AT ME* needs to put their gum in a paper napkin right now."

ENOUGH!

I threw my cloth napkin down on the table and half stood up to say to that poor innocent waiter, "OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! I DID NOT PUT MY GUM IN THE TABLECLOTH! YOU TELL THAT MAN I DIDN'T DO IT! AND WILL YOU PLEASE ALSO TELL HIM I AM 37 YEARS OLD!!!!!"

He looked really hurt and said, "yes, I will tell him". 

And then he came back later to take our order and I said, "I'll have the seared tuna. With extra gum."

And then the poor innocent waiter said, "please. I am on your side."

And then I really felt bad. 

But for Pete's sake, can you imagine being accused of a heinous crime? Twice? When you were 100% innocent of it? Now I know how Cameron Todd Willingham felt.