It was the first visit to that location now that CG was there. Luckily (I suppose) I was immediately trundled in front of the GM of the location, who is...well, my mother would call him a pistol. Very gregarious, very self important, of a spanish descent. He was exceedingly complimentary to me, so much so that once again, it struck me that no one eats this food, they all just look at it. Whatever, though, if he wants to blow smoke up my skirt, then so be it. CG was tucked away in a corner, back to me, butchering out fish, totally working with the intensity I remember - or appearing to. He looked over his shoulder, I met his eye, nodded, and he glared.
Yeah, just like the old days. So, then I camped out at the cafe counter and waited for Suze while watching them all go through their paces. I chatted with a server who had transferred there from 101 (my location) and then with the Chef de Cuisine, who totally blew me off initially (when he reached past me to get a straw, I was about to say hi, but he stared through me so I kept mum), then later, after seeing everyone else greet and talk to me, at least manned up and made a point to say hi. Which was cool, though I couldn't help but rub a little salt in his wound and give him a hard time when he admitted he hadn't recognized me at first. Clearly though, everyone seemed really over the moon with me. Which is weird, since I'm about 2 weeks from jumping ship. Ultimately, CG did come out of the kitchen to say hi, he stood by (I remained seated) we chatted briefly, small talk, and then he returned to his work.
It's odd, and yet somewhat comforting to not have it have be crazy at all - since I know not everyone gets to end relationships being friends or even civil. So, if this is how it ends up, then I'm fine with it. True, I miss working in the kitchen with him, but it's his level of commitment, his skill and intensity, and not the fucking headcase stuff that I miss.
The reality of the situation, for me, is that I don't get the one without the other. So. Yeah. Then, Suse and I went to Macy's to see an old coworker of hers, who now owns her own chocolate company, do a demo making Brazillian truffles. It was kind of dull, but good from a networking standpoint - or would have been if I didn't have plans to leave town shortly. It's amazing to me how frigging social Suze is though - it's a skill I'm just not practiced in, though supposedly it runs in my veins (personally, I believe my brother M got the lion's share of that DNA, but whatever) as my father was quite the crowd pleaser.
Anyway, Macy's is in the part of SF that I never, ever, traverse: the shopping zone. With Cartier, Neiman-Marcus, Prada stores, all that. That frigging Macy's and the thousands of people milling about - it was like a crazy anthill. Like one of those weird '50's industrial movies come to life. I got really, really tense in there. I'm not a fan of shopping in general, and feel very out of place in swanky locations like that, and this one, because it's downtown was crawling not just with high-maintenance trophy wives, but international tourists, students with trust funds, and the bridge and tunnel locals. Ack. Could not get out of there quick enough, I literally felt dizzy.I talked Suze out of some crazy idea to go to the Cheesecake Factory (located somewhere within Macy's WTF?) because apparently the driver she has a crush on's brother works there...noooooo. So, off we headed to North Beach (the original plan had been to go to the Mission and visit Tom's cart, but apparently he is in Vegas this week, so no dice) to do a little drinking and noshing. We went to Vesuvio's first, which is just across from the legendary bookstore City Lights (where I usually stop after watching Arsenal matches at Maggie's which is a few blocks up the hill) - and while it was a dive, it was insanely expensive and the staff was pretty cranky.So, not "dive" in a good way, at all.
Now, I get it: working in North Beach is like working in Georgetown, or Pioneer Square, or Times Square, you are gonna get tourists and not a lot of regulars, but damn, that's no reason to be outright jerks. I have had some of the rudest bartenders in my life in this city, and it's really amazing what they get away with. I am not newbie, and yet time and time again, I find myself wondering what the fuck is wrong with me asking for a Jack and diet, or when I can't understand them when they spit out the tab total.
The bar itself was awesome, lots of restored turn of the century fixtures and the wood bar itself with the old ice-box pull handles, reminded me of the Merchant Cafe in Pioneer Square where Jesse was the bartender for so many years. The Merchant's bar was physically actually even bigger, but still, that same time period, and the Comstock was definitely in better shape We started with a happy hour beer and shot of bourbon, then each had a sarzerac - that had absinthe in it. Then, as we were getting along so well with jared, our bartender, he gave us a mixed drink that I believe he called "Dirty Sand" or something like that - bourbon, citrus, and god knows what else Tasty though. We needed food, so we ordered the house fresh pretzel which was huge, warm, really good (even Suze, who is German and knows of these things, commented on how good it was) and was welcome filler. Most of the conversation seemed to keep coming back to her trying to find out what it would take to get me to stay at the Organic cafe. Yeah. The thing is, as much as I appreciate how much they "love" me, it's not even about that really. I reiterated that I was disappointed in Shaggy being unable to even tell me not only how much my raise would be (she says it'll be to 35k) or when, and that there just was no concrete timeline for ever getting out of that rabbit hole of production baking.
So yeah. We also talked a lot about her and the driver same old stuff. I got a little fidgety. We decided to get a burger, and went to Sam's on Broadway, a complete dump of a spot, which I even said "I dunno, looks kind of sketchy" as she was locking up her bike - and it turned out the cook was outside having a smoke as we were doing that. However, once we got inside - it turned out Anthony Bourdain had put the place on the map last year in his new show "Layovers" or whatever - so a burger and fries with a coke was $9, but I have to say, it was a good burger. And the guy working, seemed really familiar, almost like a character out of a movie, and as Suze chatted with him, we found out he was from Palestine.He was really easygoing, which in that neighborhood has got to be tough, though certainly easier than any job in his homeland. He cheerfully refilled our cokes andeven put Suze's fries back in the fryer after overhearing her tell me she preferred hers more crispy, which was a nice gesture.
All, in all, a nice little jaunt, though it was rough having Suze try and get me to stay I...I just don't want to keep treading water, and something has to change; other than offering me a minimal pay increase they can't promise anything else. Suze wants to visit Germany in May, and asked if maybe I couldn't stay around a little longer to work at P3 in her place.
Yeah, that'd be just what I need to do.
