Shock: But is it the good kind?
Little bit about me. I work in a restaurant called “The Church Key” in West Hollywood. It is of an upscale, all-American variety. They have great food and I make appetizers there. And…
Hold on… My phone’s ringing…
Well. Slap my ass and call me a “bitch.” I guess I better change everything to it’s past tense because I just got laid off.
Who knew the Summer would be so slow?
Apparently, the management did. One of my chefs reported to me that unfortunately the hottest months of the year in Southern California don’t get the restaurant much business.
Now, before I go on with this weird buzz in my head, let me clarify something.
I am not mad at the good folk at The Church Key, whom have instilled a sense of responsibility and discipline in my during my harsh times.
Actually, to be perfectly honest, I may be quite glad. As I did not want to mess up so badly to where they would fire me… But, I did feel like although it was all intensive for research purposes, regarding a television show I wanted to write about working in the restaurant business through the eyes of moody nostalgics, pining for something more.
For a while, I have been feeling stressed out because I didn’t know how to balance my work and my work. (The latter being writing, drawing, filmmaking and other creative ventures.)
But as I’ve repeated consistently to my family before, this would be my last “foodie job.” Which is ironic because it was my first endeavor into the back-of-house world.
When I got the call, I was sadly listening to Mac DeMarco, Phish and accounts of “You Must Remember This’s” Dead Hollywood Blondes. And I was afraid that I would fall into the same cycle as always in spite of going through a very different breed of break-up. But now, finally, I feel some calling that tells me by the end of two weeks, I should have these twelve teleplays of my ambitious idea to come forth as I want these characters I have been around so constantly to come forth with the most lively sarcastic wit and hilarious brevity that I have ever experienced.
Also, I was looking at writing jobs anyway so this works well indeed.
Like if the break-up didn’t give me enough room, this certainly does.
The only danger in not having a steady income now, is that I will have to be quite the penny-pincher.
Which sucks, because I have clothes to wash.
But if there’s anyway I can repay my employers, it’ll be by way of writing the most true tributes I can of their existence, reformed in a storyteller’s mode.
And I think I have to be serious about it this time.
I know it may be a bit jumping the shark but writing this series is a career “make-or-break” in my eyes.
At least I can get it down on paper, even if it’s not so great. Right, one person reading this?