I’m drinking my second Cappuccino coffee (a.k.a. French vanilla for the Tim Horton’s Canadian coffee standard). I feel hangover. In fact, I AM. Since I’ve been training, dieting and on top of that, drinking my protein shake after my workout at gym, coffee is out of question…but today is a big exception. I must say the shakes are working. Every glass contains like 60gr of pure protein, I can feel energy and improvement on the treadmill. Also, when you drink that, basically you don’t feel hungry, the liquid stays in your stomach and you got more time to do other things.
But since this week, specially at work, things aren’t going well with me. At work, I’m replacing somebody who took vacations, I’m doing other kind of “new” things . The boss of that section is a fake, chubby, square blond head. Do I hate her? Not yet, but if she dies tomorrow, I won’t cry for her. So, I can quote one of Morrissey’s song “why do I give valuable time to people who don’t care if I live or die?”. That’s my new philosophy. Last Tuesday she sent an email to me and my real boss asking to meet her. So, this is not good. I thought she wanted to complain about my work. I knew she was a bit crazy and obsessive. ok, ok, a real control freak. I work in Finance, so controls and verifications are part of my daily life, but when somebody tries to control ME, that’s different. I’m not an invoice or a fake cheque. I’m not a fishy transaction, I’m kind of transparent. She started saying “I got the impression you hate me”. What? My face was puzzled. “I know you never wanted to come here to work at Section 33, but I noticed in your emails that you don’t feel comfortable here”. OMG. Well, it was true that I never wanted to go there, but I don’t hate her. Once, I went for New Year’s party at the Casino with her. I think I wrote that in my blog like 3 years ago. She is a average Quebecquer, party, traveling to Cuba, resorts, drinking and narrow minded. I didn’t like that time being with her and listening her derogatory comments about gay people at work. Also, her opinions about people from the third world, “indians” as she says…pejorative adjective for us. So…I put big distance between her and me. A healthy distance. I didn’t know she was a boss of Section 33 at the time. But left me a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth…it’s better banning a person like that of your life…but you cannot do that at work. In her micro speech I feel more like her words reflected discomfort with not being obeyed as she liked, it means “What I said must be done the way I say…and my word is law”. Once she told me she was dating a guy who after a while he was stocking her…then she had to put cameras at her place. Also, she told me she had troubles with a big boss I get along. She told she had a grievance…the union was involved too. When I was listening her words in slow motion my mind were on those souvenirs…who was saying the true? who is the real control freak? a person who cannot control anything? a person who needs authority to feel superior? a person with no moral authority but has in fact, authority at work?…for a moment, as you who read this, you realize SHE is not right…nor in what she’s saying neither in her head. So I was there listening….she was psycho but I let it go…no choice, I’m just a clerk, immigrant clerk, so no authority for me, no power for me…no nothing…I tried to comfort her telling her when I work with somebody I took distance (with her is much better, no?) and that was her perception. But know that I’m thinking of that…after that meeting…I think I got reasonable justification to hate her…but I don’t..not yet.
I had my results of my accounting exam. I got 13 of 20, not that bad, not too good either, but is fine. After a tough week I decided a needed a gay break. So, I was thinking to go to a gay drag queen show. So, I contacted a friend of mine and I told him about this idea. He invited me to the restaurant where he works as waiter. He is over 40 and would like to go to school this Fall. He is gay and a nice person. So, I said “why not?” and around 8.30pm I showed up at Navarra restaurant in downtown Ottawa. It’s a little restaurant, cozy and of course, fancy. Prices are….bring your golden credit card. I mean, isn’t cheap but is quality and the presentation is more like painting than cooking. Art. I’m not a person who goes from restaurant from restaurant judging taste and ingredients, I eat because I need to live, I don’t live for eating. Eating for me is an obligation not a pleasure. If I went there was for a glass of wine and….Marion….a hot, afro, jazz singer….OMG, in a little space like that her diva voice was….delightful….I was drinking a glass of white wine…the more alcohol was in my veins…the more I was looking at her body…her breast…her legs…her hair…her lips…ok, ok, ok, hormones quiet, quiet…My friend found me a little red round table…I was just 43 mts away from her. I wasn’t feeling miserable but happy, I wasn’t feeling alone but alive…I was feeling love being single…I was happy with that paradox…I was enjoying that moment…looking at the table in front of me, a French couple trying main dish, desert, wine and more, I was looking another table with a family celebrating a birthday than then, 2 fashion young gays took over later…very fashion and handsome. The other table was taken by 3 Montrealers women…so, they were judging Ottawa and food in a criminal way…judging live to this death to that…it wasn’t pleasant but funny…I was in my wine universe, half here, half…elsewhere….in a long term bracket of happiness….
It was nice to float in that cloud…must be the Spanish wine…it could have been Marion’s voice…it could have been the people around myself…all of then in their respective universes, sharing, talking, laughing and judging…there were so many people, I even saw two men in a perfect date. My waiter friend was making jokes and we were laughing…we’ll do yoga tomorrow Saturday. I asked him if Marion could sing “Fever”, she couldn’t because the pianist didn’t know that one, so I asked for “Summer time”…and when she sang it she blinked her eye at me….awwwww….my happy heart and my glass of wine were delighted with that gesture…
Since my diet has been liquid, full of proteins I decided to try the food there. So, I asked a dessert. I saw some people eating chocolate mousse…I wanted something different. In fact, I didn’t know what I chose. I couldn’t hear what my friend said about it so I asked Queso Manchego (Manchego cheese). It was a piece of Manchego cheese (that after google it I saw it was made of sheep milk, assuming it was the real thing), Quince confit, pear chutney, candied pistachios, olive oil crostini. This is very Mediterranean well, the restaurant is a fusion of Spanish-Mexican cuisine…I thought it would cost me a fortune…after my crappy week I think I deserved a big break…my bill was 23$ but since my friend was the waiter…with tip it went to 27$ a bit expensive but…it was just a desert and wine…but full of love.
No drag queens that night, just the best performance of an afro diva, a Manchego cheese disguised for a gastronomical date with me and my beloved waiter that made that night just….full of love…a bracket of love.