Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Things could be a whole lot better
Jack: Hi, Lloyd. A little slow tonight, isn't it? (Jack emanates a belly laugh)
Lloyd: Yes it is, Mr. Torrance. What'll it be?
Jack: I'm awfully glad you asked me that, Lloyd. Because I just happen to have two twenties and two tens right here in my wallet. I was afraid they were gonna be there until next April. So here's what. You slip me a bottle of bourbon, a little glass, and some ice. You can do that, can't you Lloyd? You're not too busy, are ya?
Lloyd: No sir, I'm not busy at all.
Jack: Good man. You set 'em up and I'll knock 'em back, Lloyd, one by one. White man's burden, Lloyd, white man's burden. (Jack opens his wallet and finds it empty) Say Lloyd, it seems I'm temporarily light. How's my credit in this joint, anyway?
Lloyd: Your credit's fine, Mr. Torrance.
Jack: That's swell. I like ya, Lloyd. I always liked ya. You were always the best of 'em. Best god-damn bartender from Timbuktu to Portland, Maine - or Portland, Oregon for that matter.
Lloyd: Thank you for saying so.
Jack: Here's to five miserable months on the wagon and all the irreparable harm that it's caused me.
Lloyd: How are things going, Mr. Torrance?
Jack: Things could be better, Lloyd. Things could be a whole lot better.
Lloyd: I hope it's nothing serious.
Jack: No. (He taps the bar for a second drink) Nothing serious. Just a little problem with the, uh, ol' sperm bank upstairs. Nothing I can't handle, though Lloyd, thanks.
Lloyd: Women. Can't live with 'em. Can't live without 'em.
Jack: Words of wisdom, Lloyd. Words of wisdom. I never laid a hand on him, god-damn it. I didn't. I wouldn't touch one hair on his god-damned little head. I love the little son-of-a-bitch. I'd do anything for him. Any f--kin' thing for him. That bitch! As long as I live, she'll never let me forget what happened. I did hurt him once, OK? But it was an accident, completely unintentional. Could have happened to anybody. And it was three god-damned years ago. The little f--ker had thrown all my papers all over the floor. All I tried to do was pull him up - a momentary loss of muscular coordination. A few extra foot-pounds of energy per second, per second.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Friday, December 23, 2011
Day 11 stats by Trent Eman
Day 11, City Streets Cafe, Hightstown NJ
So as my first time writing stats, and probably not my last, I am both nervous and excited. I’m still unsure as to my motives for doing these shenanigans, but everyone seemed to be really excited that I was doing it. I still think they are just too lazy and didn’t want to do it themselves. Maybe I’m just excited that the old rents are going to let me stay up later tonight, or maybe this Christmas cheer is rubbing off on me. I’m uncertain whether my English teacher would be proud that I am writing over my Christmas break or if he would be ashamed that I’m writing about drinking.
When I was told I was writing stats, I had no idea what to do. Su and Gman told me to just lie or I could tell people about TDDoC from a teenager’s perspective. I chose to remain honest. So Twelve Drinking Days of Christmas in my perspective it was. Maybe I’m not the coolest teenager roaming the streets these days, but I’ve come to like the old hags I see every night (don’t take offense anyone who is over 25 is basically an old hag to me). I enjoy eating as much of Su’s meal as she does, and saying about 5 words to each person there. I like every minute of twelve days no matter how bored and sad I might look sitting over in the corner.
So day 11: City Streets. This used to be my favorite place because the quesadillas were world’s greatest, but it is slowly going down the drain. Happy hours with $2.99 appetizers sounds nice, but when the nachos have Kraft singles quality cheese you start to wonder if it was even worth that. We were also blessed to have a live performance for the first time I can remember in TDDoC history. I thought I was going to go deaf. His rendition of Free Fallin by Tom Petty went pretty well, but the rest of the show was definitely not up to par. Maybe he could start by playing songs that were produced past the late 70s, or just turn down the volume so I can hear myself think.
These factors, and others, led Gman to finally believe we should not come back. “If I say we should come back to this place next year, hit me over the head with a hammer” was exclaimed at one point by him. I think we should have filmed him saying this because there is a high chance we will be back again.
After all my complaining, I enjoyed my time at City Streets. I suppose there’s a certain charm to it all. But after its shortcomings this year, I don’t expect it to be on the 2012 TDDoC list.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Day 10 Stats -- The Big Fish Bistro
Day 11 Location: City Streets Cafe
510 Route 130 South, East Windsor, NJ 08520 609-426-9400
Day 10 Stats, The Big Fish Bistro
There seems to be a love-hate relationship with this place. You love to go, but hate waiting for your drink to be served, or at least I have been told. Or maybe if you are Eman you just love to hate the place.
Concerning the waiting times, we are talking about a restaurant with seating for 130 people and a bar area which can easily hold (and apparently was holding) another 75. The bar wait staff, while being extremely efficient, numbers two people until about 7:00 PM which then drops to single coverage. But that is OK, because the dining room now only has 75 people in it. So while most people love to hate the BF, I hate liking it.
I arrived at the place about 6:20 PM, and while walking from my car a passes by me on the access road with the driver yelling at me "SUUUUUUUUUUCK!" I am unfazed by this because it happens to me all the time to me in Robbinsville as I am a known local agitator (call the mayor's office to verify). I am informed later this was Eman and he was not yelling at me, but at the building that the houses the BF which he hates so much.
After walking in I am greeted by an already good-sized TDDoC crowd including one enthusiast demanding to know why I am "late". I'm thinking, "Late? it's not even 6:30." The barrage continues, "Uji was here at four o'clock!" Now thinking, "Uji is a trooper, we are lucky to have him." "Where have you been!?" At this point, my mind is racing, "That drink I ordered you in 1997 is still sitting on the bar. Don't give me this "you're late" crap. Come talk to me in 2018 when you life-time point total is some reasonable fraction of mine." Tamp mediates the altercation after seeing my obvious incredulity.
There are some new faces. Allie makes her first appearance. Kean is spotted drinking wine while Scugi shows him photos of Porsches and various central NJ bartenders. CSI Stu! And the more usual crowd: Mertz offers a correction to the point tallies on a napkin somehow emailed to Eman and then goes on about the evils of bowel movement discussions in the public forum. Grace makes a second appearance and flirts with regular status. The return of Goettle (and Yvette!).
I talk to Joe Chubb for the first time and the typical mutual Joe friendship develops. If we could get Joe Biden and Joe the Plumber up in here, who knows?
Crowd thins. I inform everyone that Danielle, the bartender, is the only person in the room that I actually like. This thins the crowd a little more. But now with Goettle available, the BF does not close easily. Goettle somehow get the discussion moved to Galois Fields and how they aren't fields in the sense of say a scalar or vector field. It is pointed out that since the del operator is a vector operator, the gradient of a scalar field is by definition a vector field. Then someone says that it is possible to calculate the curl of the vector field and in the case of the original scalar field we weren't sure what this means. Consider, any scalar field, F, then with the del operator, del F is the gradient of the field F. The curl is easily(?) calculated using a vector cross-product as del X del F, but the physical significance is not clear to us. At this point Goettle and I realize no one in the whole bar wants to talk with us anymore. This was understandable, but if anyone can give us some insight on the curl of the gradient of a scalar field we would be most grateful.
Danielle calls last call. Holy crap Uji is still here! Granted, the BF last call is much earlier then the NJ de facto 2AM standard, but he is still here. The chairs are going up around us. Everyone leaves, except Goettle, and poor Yvette, who has to put up with Goettle and his refusal to leave the BF. I leave and just outside on the same sidewalk as earlier am accosted by a group of Eagles and Jets fans who are employees of the Big Fish corporation and have formed some perverse Green Alliance for this weekend and taunt me on my allegiance to Big Blue.
I do like this place and I really hate that.
For reference, the del operator in cartesian coordinates, using the "inverted delta":
510 Route 130 South, East Windsor, NJ 08520 609-426-9400
Day 10 Stats, The Big Fish Bistro
There seems to be a love-hate relationship with this place. You love to go, but hate waiting for your drink to be served, or at least I have been told. Or maybe if you are Eman you just love to hate the place.
Concerning the waiting times, we are talking about a restaurant with seating for 130 people and a bar area which can easily hold (and apparently was holding) another 75. The bar wait staff, while being extremely efficient, numbers two people until about 7:00 PM which then drops to single coverage. But that is OK, because the dining room now only has 75 people in it. So while most people love to hate the BF, I hate liking it.
I arrived at the place about 6:20 PM, and while walking from my car a passes by me on the access road with the driver yelling at me "SUUUUUUUUUUCK!" I am unfazed by this because it happens to me all the time to me in Robbinsville as I am a known local agitator (call the mayor's office to verify). I am informed later this was Eman and he was not yelling at me, but at the building that the houses the BF which he hates so much.
After walking in I am greeted by an already good-sized TDDoC crowd including one enthusiast demanding to know why I am "late". I'm thinking, "Late? it's not even 6:30." The barrage continues, "Uji was here at four o'clock!" Now thinking, "Uji is a trooper, we are lucky to have him." "Where have you been!?" At this point, my mind is racing, "That drink I ordered you in 1997 is still sitting on the bar. Don't give me this "you're late" crap. Come talk to me in 2018 when you life-time point total is some reasonable fraction of mine." Tamp mediates the altercation after seeing my obvious incredulity.
There are some new faces. Allie makes her first appearance. Kean is spotted drinking wine while Scugi shows him photos of Porsches and various central NJ bartenders. CSI Stu! And the more usual crowd: Mertz offers a correction to the point tallies on a napkin somehow emailed to Eman and then goes on about the evils of bowel movement discussions in the public forum. Grace makes a second appearance and flirts with regular status. The return of Goettle (and Yvette!).
I talk to Joe Chubb for the first time and the typical mutual Joe friendship develops. If we could get Joe Biden and Joe the Plumber up in here, who knows?
Crowd thins. I inform everyone that Danielle, the bartender, is the only person in the room that I actually like. This thins the crowd a little more. But now with Goettle available, the BF does not close easily. Goettle somehow get the discussion moved to Galois Fields and how they aren't fields in the sense of say a scalar or vector field. It is pointed out that since the del operator is a vector operator, the gradient of a scalar field is by definition a vector field. Then someone says that it is possible to calculate the curl of the vector field and in the case of the original scalar field we weren't sure what this means. Consider, any scalar field, F, then with the del operator, del F is the gradient of the field F. The curl is easily(?) calculated using a vector cross-product as del X del F, but the physical significance is not clear to us. At this point Goettle and I realize no one in the whole bar wants to talk with us anymore. This was understandable, but if anyone can give us some insight on the curl of the gradient of a scalar field we would be most grateful.
Danielle calls last call. Holy crap Uji is still here! Granted, the BF last call is much earlier then the NJ de facto 2AM standard, but he is still here. The chairs are going up around us. Everyone leaves, except Goettle, and poor Yvette, who has to put up with Goettle and his refusal to leave the BF. I leave and just outside on the same sidewalk as earlier am accosted by a group of Eagles and Jets fans who are employees of the Big Fish corporation and have formed some perverse Green Alliance for this weekend and taunt me on my allegiance to Big Blue.
I do like this place and I really hate that.
For reference, the del operator in cartesian coordinates, using the "inverted delta":
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
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