Tag Archives: Seinfeld

An afternoon to remember.

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I had an awesome afternoon yesterday.  In fact, I can confidently declare it was the most awesome afternoon of the summer.  I realize it was September 18th, but hey, fall doesn’t technically commence until September 22nd, so my awesome day still falls within the summer parameters.  And when the afternoon boasts a temperature of 90 degrees F your mind doesn’t stray far from summer mode.  

The scene:  an afternoon beach trip.  

The partners-in-crime:  Mom, sister, San Diego and Fak.  

My afternoon started after my jail shift work shift with a fabulous dip in the nearby beach of Plaka.  Plaka in Greek means “a large plate,” and so in Plaka the pebble-covered beach has these large rocky plates in the water – a geological aberration that is not really a hassle, but they is just enough of a deterrent to keep most of the tourists away – or at least the tourists that you don’t want to deal with.  

Behold the beauty of the Argolid coastline:  

A sloth invades the view!

 

Let’s try this one more time without the unwanted intruders…  

Blue skies, blue sea, blue perfection.

 

Marvelous, fantastic, refreshing, gorgeous, perfection.

 

I can't really explain just how great this feels.

 

The sea water was so clear, you just wanted to drink it all in.   Or simply stay in the water until your skin was as wrinkled as a raisin.  It was simply marvelous.  And after our swim it was time for sustenance.  

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The psychopath cometh.

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You’re damned if you do, and you’re damned if you don’t.  I’m coming to terms with the fact that when a person can be described as a “sandwich short of a picnic basket”, there is nothing really you can say to reason with them.

I’m lucky enough to work at a lovely seaside hotel during summer season.  I’m lucky to be paid very well to work at the front desk.  After two years of doing this job, I’ve come to realize why the owner pays so well:  because I have to work with a psychopath who whines like a little baby over every little thing.  He has to help with room service?  “WAH!!  I have to shine the spoons in the breakfast room!”  It’s the world against him.  It’s us against him.  Of course he knows  how to do EVERYTHING perfectly.  He can do no wrong in his mind.   We are but fools running around and shaming him.

What he reminds me of is that old Seinfeld episode – “The Understudy.”  He is Jerry’s girlfriend, the understudy to Bette Midler in Rochelle, Rochelle.  Crying over every little thing.  Her frankfurter falls out of the hot dog bun and the tears turn on:  “Oh my god, my frankfurter.  It was so good, why? Why did it have to fall?”  Because you effing suck, that’s why.

I could sneak some sort of downer medication in his coffee to mellow him out. But what I’d really like to do is tie him to a chair and have a nice face-punching session with him. That’ll give him something to cry about.   That’s a dream worth dreaming…