Tag Archives: Los Angeles

On Becoming A Vampire

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In the food industry, there are a few things you just have to get used to.  When the world is celebrating holidays, you’re working.  When the 9-5ers are enjoying a martini at Happy Hour, you’re working.  When it’s a three day weekend and everyone’s at the beach, you’re probably working.

There is, however, a HUGE flipside.

When those same 9-5ers are waking up at the crack of dawn, we’re sleeping.  And when they’re sitting on 405, bumper to bumper in rush hour traffic, we’re not.  While they are all at work and the malls and grocery stores are empty and quiet and put together, that’s when we’re shopping.  Bad grocery store Muzak and organized, full shelves.  Ah…. Heaven.

It’s addicting, really.

There was a time not long ago that neither Brad or I hardly ever had to be at work before 4PM.  We would get home sometime between one and three in the morning from whichever restaurant and then we would make ourselves some dinner.

Yep.  Dinner.  At two o’clock in the morning.

And you know that we don’t ever skimp on dinner.  Not even at 2AM.  Oh no, it’d be Roasted Chicken or Pork Chops or Pasta or some other crazy invention.  It goes against everything any diet has ever told you, I know, but that was our nighttime routine.  Sometimes I felt sorry for our upstairs neighbors.  I’m sure they were having dreams of lavish feasts most nights, waking up to their bowl of cereal in the morning. One time, Brad made chocolate chip cookies after I’d fallen asleep early on the couch.  I dreamed of bakeries and sweets.  At least I got to wake up to the real thing.

Along with our eating schedules being out of the norm, we got onto a ridiculous sleeping schedule.  I mean, you can’t just come home from slinging drinks all night long and immediately fall asleep.  The brain is in smily, happy, customer service mode and it takes some time to unwind.  I would usually fall asleep around 4am.  Brad?  He would typically see the sunrise.

At one point, we were setting our alarms for two o’clock in the afternoon to make sure we’d wake up to make it to work on time.  And in Upstate New York in the winter, getting up at two only guarantees you about an hour and a half of daylight before the sun sets.  Not that there was ever a chance to get any sun whatsoever, but my Rollins girl, 365 days a year tan skin got freakishly pale.  And I wore all black to work every night.

I started feeling like a vampire.

Now when you’re in the restaurant industry, it feels semi-normal.  Most of your friends are also in that same routine so there isn’t much reason to change.  I tried to tell myself many times that we were just on “West Coast time” because we could usually catch our friends in San Francisco as we were getting out of work and they were getting ready for bed.

Now that we really ARE on West Coast time, its even worse.  If I don’t get up until noon on a morning after closing down the bar late, its already 3PM back home.  I’ve almost missed an entire day!  So much could have happened in the world that I just slept right through.  I often think about some crazy major event happening that the East Coast finds out about right when they wake up and then people have to wait to tell me until three that afternoon.  Torture!!  Being a vampire on the West Coast makes you DOUBLE behind!

Thankfully, things have changed a lot recently.  For a while I had the closest thing to a 9-5 job that I would let happen, and it was kind of strange.  My love of grocery shopping was quickly eliminated by the insane amount of people who all did their shopping on Saturday mornings.  I never went to the mall because on the weekends you have to park SO far away and the racks are just a freaking mess.  And I was on the exact opposite schedule from a lot of my friends and, worst of all, of Brad.  I never saw anyone unless I went to their restaurant to eat.

That obviously wasn’t the only reason I left the job, but now I’m back to my night-crawling, drink slinging ways.  Except I make myself get up at a reasonable hour (for a bartender, I think 10 is a very reasonable hour) and see a good amount of sunlight before heading into the dark bar.

Because even vampires in California have to be tan and blonde.  Duh.

It Never Rains In Southern California

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Just before I moved out west, my mom introduced me to a song by Albert Hammond called “It Never Rains In Southern California”.

At the time I thought nothing of it. I had just left Ithaca, NY where it had snowed every day for the last month. And I was sitting in Columbia, MD where February is typically grey and wet. Bring on the sunshine!

I mean, when the sky looks like this 99% of the time, its hard to complain…

But a year and a half of sunshine later, rain is the one thing I tell everyone that I miss most about the east coast. Yes, even more than crabs and Natty Boh. Even more than awards shows being live. Even more than eastern standard time.

I miss rain.

So after recovering from the weekend’s hangover and getting all of my work done on time for Monday, I heard that there was actually a little bit of rain in the weather forecast!! I just knew it was going to be a great week. I made mental lists of what is so great and so weird about rain in LA…

What do I love most about rain in LA?

  • A free car wash
  • Goodbye allergies
  • Humidity
  • Puddles
  • Rain clothes (boots, jackets, hoods)
  • My windshield wipers that are stuck on are finally appropriate!

What is kind of silly about rain in LA?

  • Weather warnings. For an inch of rain. Serious.
  • Drivers that don’t understand what is falling from the sky. Panic!
  • My car’s trunk still leaks. Can’t use it when it’s raining out.
  • I’m short. The ends of my pants ALWAYS get soaked.

So I got all excited about the upcoming rain and went to bed Monday night feeling good.

Wouldn’t you know it, Tuesday I woke up with a sore throat. Brad woke up with a stuffy nose.

I’ll admit that I am pretty miserable when I am sick, but nothing can compare to Brad’s level of miserable when he is sick. And both of us together with double miserable going on? It wasn’t pretty… We didn’t talk much that day. I sat outside because it was NOT raining and brad laid on the couch. I went to work and toughed it out.

And wouldn’t you know it, Wednesday morning I woke up super early, and it was pouring. Normally I’d curl up under the covers next to Brad and listen to the pitter patter against the pavement. I’d listen for cars splashing through puddles. I’d take Gibson out for her walk and smell that fresh rain smell and watch all of the people hurrying around under their umbrellas. I’d make hot cocoa and read a book on the couch and just love every second….

But I was completely stuffed up and completely cranky. I couldn’t smell any rain smell. The sound was actually giving me a headache. I took Gibson out because Brad was way sicker than I was and I cursed every minute of my pants getting soaked and cars splashing up water onto the sidewalk. And what was worse? I had to go into work all day. I couldn’t even take a rain nap. This was not working out the way I had planned.

Brad and I are both almost recovered from our nasty colds, and definitely back on speaking terms. It took a little R&R and a lot of Momma Bylsma’s chicken noodle soup recipe, but I expect us to make a full recovery. And fall here is the “rainy” season, so I’m expecting a storm I can really enjoy sometime soon.

As for my car? My windshield wipers are totally inappropriate again and my trunk is drying out, but it sure is hard to recognize in a parking lot because it is so freaking white! :). Even though I didn’t really get to enjoy the rainstorm, I still got my free carwash out of it!

 

Now just waiting for the next one…