Work Issues

The school board's Spring Break started today.

Which means that my store is filling up with bored kids who decide to use my location as a place to hang out and play video games.

Oh, and also, because they're bored, they try to shoplift a lot more.

Of course, I'm scheduled to open every day I work this week. By myself.

So, today, a trio of teenaged boys come in. Two of them make a beeline for the video games cabinets at the back of the store. The third tries to distract me.

"Um, can I see the Sony discman in the shelf?"

I'm busy watching the other two like a hawk. I don't quite hear him.

"Pardon?" I ask.

"Can I see this Sony discman?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." I take him to the discman cabinet, just keeping an eye on the other two at the back. I make sure that the third is not distracting me.

While the third is looking at the walkman, one of the kids starts trying to pick the lock on the Nintendo cabinet.

I decide enough is enough. Time to kick these kids out. Still at the discmen, I yell, at the top of my lungs, "Hey! Would you mind not trying to break into my Nintendo cabinet?"

Realizing that he was caught, he decides to try to bluff me, and starts yelling at me.

"I was just looking at the memory cards."

I snatch the Sony back from the third and lock it back up.

"So why were you trying to pick the lock?"

"With what?" the kid yells.

"You tell me. Out of the store. Now."

The three leave, yelling and trying to knock over displays, because they were so rudely treated when they were only trying to look around and buy things.

"See if we ever come back here again!" the first yells while leaving the store.

I just HAD to laugh at that one...

* * *

Just got the news. I passed my assistant manager testing, and am now getting a $1000 a year raise. Yay me!

That's a goodly $40 or so per paycheck more.

In other store news, Tom is leaving the store next month and going back to Calgary to manage a store there.

If the rumours are true about who's taking over the store, I'll be asking for a transfer mighty quickly.

If it's Stock, a guy who used to manage up here before going down south a year ago, I want a move.

The managers in the district are already grumbling about Stock coming back up.

And I know some guys he's worked with well. And I don't get along with them. Therefore, if he works well with guys I despise, I'm willing to see him as someone I couldn't be in the same store with.

So, if given the choice, I'd lobby for the Southgate posting. Still close to where I am, bigger store, new looking store, not the rundown mess that is the BD location.

And a manager who I can work with. Otherwise, I'd consider either West Ed, KGM, or Ed Centre...

On humour...

When talking to MFJ this morning about her seeing Henry Rollins with Dev:

MFJ: I laughed a lot.

MFJ: Especially at the William Shatner parts.

MFJ: But not the masturbating parts.

At while point, I had a devilish grin, and my fingers started flying on the keyboard. Oh, ho ho! Was I going to have a rejoinder for that...

MFJ: (NOT about William Shatner)

Me, at my desk: "Damn." And hit the delete button.

I commented on how easily she was able to see what I was going to say, and maybe it was time to switch up my style of humour.

I was thinking about it, and, yes, I do have a pretty unique sense of humour. I mean, granted, I tend to share it with a few people, but for some reason, I will find things funny that no one else really does.

For example, a few years back (about 1998), back when I was living in Moose Jaw, my friends and I were watching Top Gun.

My friend Tara-Lynn was pointing out all the younger actors who went on to bigger and better. ("Look! It's Anthony Edwards! He's on ER now!")

After a few of these, I, of course, had to get a shot in. So I'm thinking, "Okay, other '80s actors..."

I point to a section of the screen. "LOOK! It's ALF!"

At which Tara-Lynn asks "Where?"

(Okay, this was funny enough as it was, Tara-Lynn taking my word as gospel and actually believing ALF had a cameo on Top Gun. But then my friend Kaz pipes in...)

"He's over behind that plane. He's saying 'Yo!'"

At which point, I'm crying I'm laughing so hard...

And, of course, my night of infamy during the Carnival of Shrieking Youth a few years ago with Kow, where D! ambushed me as Spider-Man.

It wasn't just the fact that it was just D! with a Spider-Man mask on, but still wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

It wasn't just that Spider-Man had somehow lost his swimmer's build.

It wasn't just that D! was giving me an unending barrage of web fluid.

It was that when all was said and done, when I was on the floor crying, D! looms over me and yells "Spider-Man looks out for one man, and one man only. And that's Spider-Man!"

Well, I lost it. The sheer absurdity of a dick Spider-Man made me non-functioning for about five minutes.

When D! came back onstage and started asking what he missed, I dragged myself off stage and was clutching onto a couch in the wings for my dear life, trying to make my ribs stop hurting.

So, yes. There's nothing that makes me laugh harder than absurdist humour. Canton, D!, Dev...we usually go on tangents that can go on for hours, referencing everything and anything.

My best trick is to usually juxtapose two things that have no business being linked. There's something intrinsically funny about surrealism for me, where talking about something that shouldn't be happening really makes me laugh.

While watching Smackdown a few hours ago, D! and I came upon the following scene: (Okay, just bear with me here. Without the benefit of knowing storylines, it comes off as odd.)

Booker T was traded to Smackdown from Raw, and wasn't happy about it. He was calling Smackdown the 'minor league' as far as he was concerned.

So he was off to face Eddie Guerrero, the Smackdown champion, to win the 'minor league' belt.

Backstage, he was confronted by Hardcore Holly, one of the toughest (and therefore, most thoughtless) wrestlers on earth, and not one of my favourites.

Holly: Just so you know, Booker, there's a lot of people here who will be lining up to face you after your title match tonight.

Me (talking to the screen): Yeah. See, Booker? We've got a list.

D!: Uh, Hardcore, you DO know there's two Ls in Holly, right?

Me: And only one O.

At which point, D! and I, both thinking about an illiterate wrestler who refers to himself as Hardcore Hoolie, die laughing.

Which brings us further off on a tangent.

D!: You know, they should have a storyline where Hardcore can't read, and approaches Paul London, saying "Hey! London! Tell you what: You teach me how to read, and I'll teach you how to wrestle."

Me: "But I already KNOW how to wrestle..."

D!: "That's great. We'll start now..."

We were giggling our asses off for the remainder of the evening...

So, yeah. A short synopsis (believe me, I could have elaborated for a looong time...) of what I find funny.

Should my hands be smelling like grapes?

Final set of posts from the Victoria trip.

* * *

On Sunday night, the Jukes family, Kingston's mom's side, went out for dinner at Spinnaker's, billed as Canada's oldest brew pub.

The waitress there was my archetype, that being short, black hair, and intelligent.

At the end of the meal, when I was paying for my share, she gave me a look that made me think, "Damn. If only I was staying for a few more days. And if only I lived a lot closer to Victoria than 13 hours."

Kingston took me on a driving tour in a mostly black city. Pretty nice nonetheless.

* * *

I took a WestJet flight on the way home. While packing, I was about to put my homemade wine in my luggage.

Kingston said, "You know, you should probably put that into your carry on, just so it doesn't get broken."

He also gave me a bottle for Heath.

I wasn't going to get in the trap of them finding nail clippers again, so I took those out of my backpack.

I shoved most of my stuff into my duffle bag to make room for the two bottles of wine.

While driving to the airport, we heard about a bomb threat the night before. Great. That'll make things interesting security-wise.

I get my ticket and start going through security. They ask me to take out all the electronics. This was something that didn't happen at Edmonton. They only took out everything to find the clippers.

So I dig out my Gameboy and my CD player. My camera was in the duffel bag.

My backpack goes through the x-ray.

The security guard asks me, "Do you have wine in the bag?"

"Yes, I do."

"Is it a brand, or is it homemade?"

"It's homemade."

"Oh, you're going to have to go back to the airline and put those under the plane. We don't allow homemade wine as carry on. You don't know that homemade wine's made of, or what it contains."

So I go back through WestJet. And tell the attendant about the wine. Since my luggage has already gone through, we're going to use my backpack. But we'll wrap the wine bottles in plastic bags, and mark FRAGILE on the bag. I promptly take out everything I want to do: Listen to music and read Dev's book. I'll forgo the Gameboy and put it in the backpack.

So I go through security again.

And pass through this time. I ask the girl who was helping me through, "Is this all because of last night?" (I'm not going to say the word 'bomb threat' in an airport, thank you...)

"Sort of." She explains to me that someone actually called the airport director's home phone line from a cell phone and pranked him about this so-called bomb.

Also, she says, eariler in the day, someone came through with something that's a BIG no-no, security-wise. I didn't ask what it was, but the police had to be called about it.

So I go on the plane. After hitting the proper altitude, I turn on my discman. It doesn't turn on. I turn on my discman. It says, "Screw you. I'm not working today. Should have charged my battery, jackass."

I read my book. With out music. I hit Kelowna. Beautiful, sunny day. 16 degrees out. And I get onto the adjoining flight.

On this flight, I try turning on my walkman again, this time without the random on. I get two and a half songs out of it.

When I arrive at Edmonton, it's 4 below, and overcast. Grey.

I'm waiting for my luggage to come through. I get a call from WestJet baggage for a Kyle Ee-ago.

Yup. A bottle of wine broke in my backpack. I immediately thought, "Gah! My Gameboy!" You know, electronics won't work well when put in wine. Dev asked me "You didn't think 'Gah! My backpack?"

No. I know that I can wash a backpack. Dry clean some ties. Throw out some papers. Electronics? I spent enough money on them the first time, thank you...

So I was in the baggage office, cleaning out my backpack and all that was in it with paper towels.

Thinking "Razz'n frazz'n WestJet. Don't they see the fragile stickers on this? Or the fact that it's encased in plastic?"

But I signed a waiver in Victoria, so they're exempt.

Otherwise, I got home fine. And just smelling a lot like a wino.

Kingston's Wedding

So, the wedding went well, other than me not really knowing anyone. Good thing I didn't bring anyone, other than Kingston's immediate family and a cousin that I taught computing to during my teaching stint.

Yup, I cleaned up pretty well, looking all nice in a fitted tux. Pics will be available later, as I didn't get any with my Canon. I'll just have to wait for Kingston to post some.

The wedding had only a few small mishaps, mostly involving waiting for the bridal party due to then needing to sew the maid of honour into her dress. (Well, sew her bra to the dress just so it wouldn't show...)

Jay and I, the two groomsmen (Chris as the best man) were pulling double duty as ushers before the service.

Kingston was pretty nervous about the whole thing, but he got used to it pretty quickly. After saying "I do," I guess.

For pictures, we went to Royal Roads University, one of the most beautiful castle/schools I've seen.

Although, all the time I was looking at the castle, I kept on thinking I wanted to stage my own assault on Xavier's Mansion (Royal Roads was used as the exterior for X2, as well as Smallville...)

The Japanese and Italian Gardens were beautiful places for pictures, with peacocks just walking around with not a care in the world...

The recieving line, which I've never participated in before, was fun. Especially since I knew few people.

One conversation:

GUEST: You're Chris, right?

ME: No, I'm Kyle.

GUEST: Oh. I guess it's because you two look alike.

ME: Oh. (silence)

I told Chris about this and he laughed, since he was right beside me in the line. In a Navy uniform. And with short hair. And without glasses.

But, whatever...

I had a fun time at the reception, almost taking out a roast by myself. Would I like the salmon? Is it beef? No? Then screw that noise!

('Screw that noise' has become my favourite expression here, since I don't know who to watch my language around. So, best to be the PG Jago...)

Kingston and I were able to perform the Kingston dance. That's right. I've got pictures of me with the originata...

And then, since Kingston read my post about not being physically able to NOT dance to "Hey Ya" by Outkast, he requested that song for me.

Well, the gift opening is getting ready to start, so I'm-a going to go upstairs now. I'll be making a post tomorrow, after my flight back over the mountains.

This has been one weekend of kick-ass, though. I'm really glad I came...

Jago's Mini Cultural Tour of Victoria

As any of you who've been on a choir tour with Dev and I in the past three years, we love privately owned businesses.

Especially those that have really, really bad names.

So punny that they make you groan, or ones that make absolutely no sense.

Here in Victoria, I've found two that've caught my eye.

First of all, there was Amos and Andes, an importer of foreign made goods. That gave me a chuckle.

Then came the one that horrified me to no end.

Worse than She-Mann's Hair Care.

Okay: What comes to mind when I say the word "maternity?"

Now, whatever that word is, I'm sure brings a lot better connotations than (get ready for it):

Clownin' Around Maternity

No, seriously. What the hell was the owner thinking?

Pregnant women, in my experience, have enough trouble with self-esteem. Why must you make your store sound like it's frequented by fat, scary clowns?

What kind of complex are you trying to give women here???

I dunno, Dev. Mentality-wise, it's a lot worse than Ready, Set, Baby! or Flowers by Murray. (Moose Jaw and Saskatoon, respectively)

* * *

Went to a bar, Legends, after I got off the plane last night. Well, after I came to the house and dropped off my stuff and posted.

This was where the bachelor and bachelorette parties were supposed to meet up at 10 pm.

I got there, and couldn't find anyone I knew. Granted, I last saw Kingston four years ago, met his fiancee once at that same occasion, and had no clue about anyone else in the wedding party.

So I'd be stalking the bar, looking around for Kingston. After three attempts, I thought, "Wait a minute. There's, like, no one my age here, it's full of young nineteen-year-olds in their most scantily-clad finest. And I'm looking around the bar, wearing a rainjacket and baseball cap. I look like a stalker. Or one of those creepy old guys. (Of which this bar had two that I saw...)"

So I ordered a drink, and started asking staff if they knew of a bachelor party that had hit this nightclub yet.

A half hour later, Kingston's mom comes in the door. Who I immediately recognize and rush to.

Man, I love BC's non-smoking policy when it comes to nightclubs. At least I didn't have to worry about the smell of my clothes when I came back.

Kingston never made it to Legends. Apparently, he was pretty screwed up at 10 pm, and Chris, his best man, took him home.

So I get to the house with Jen, Kingston's fiancee, at about 12:30. Where we found Kingston passed out on the couch.

We decided to make sure he was all right before going to bed. 45 minutes later, he awoke, looking for the bathroom. Jen and her father were trying to drag Kingston.

He was pretty belligerent, shouting at them. Once I called out to him, he brightened up, as only really drunk people do.

"Kyle! My oldest friend is here!"

"Yup. Need some help from the bathroom?"

So I was soaxing him to drink a load of water and eat some soda crackers before he passed out for the night. And made sure to give him a bucket. And hold his hair back.

Because that's what love is all about. Holding someone's hair back when they vomit.

Today, when Kingston woke up, he found out I was there by a note with my handwriting on it on the coffee table. Apparently, his heart stuck in his throat when he saw that. Because he had no recollection of that late in the night.

Tomorrow: wedding. Looking forward to it...

From the Gateway to the North to the Jewel of the Isle

Had my flight down to Victoria this evening. Yup. I'm here in Canada's Largest Retirement Home.

So I get to the airport no problems from my place. I've got my ticket confirmations, and everything I'll need in my bags: Change of clothes for 4 days. Black socks for the tux. Gameboy. Discman. Digital Camera. Book to read from Dev.

When I'm talking to the Air Canada rep, she of course asks me if I've got any sharp objects in my carry on bag and my suitcase.

"No," I reply.

Have I had my bags the entire time?

"Yes."

And I don't have any nail files, clippers, etc?

"No."

I go through the metal detector. Just peachy. But my bag's been flagged for some reason.

So the security guard and I cleaned out my entire main pouch.

Gameboy, camera, headphones, discman, letters from my mailbox I forgot to clean out, tie after tie after tie after tie. Pens at the bottom of my bag.

"Um, what are we looking for?" I ask him.

"Nail clippers."

"Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I don't have any."

Then we check the front pouch. More mail. And nail clippers. That have been there since about, oh, at least eight months prior. Maybe when I moved out of the House.

Call me sheepish.

* * *

I tell you, there's nothing quite like seeing the city of Calgary at night during takeoff.

At a few hundred feet, all you see is neighbourhoods lit up from within, due to the streetlights. A soft light making all the crescents look like an artery, or a circuit board.

Beautiful.

Or, at least, until I saw Vancouver at night from above.

Oh. My. God.

As docile as Calgary looked, Vancouver looked vibrant, alive. Almost neon moving lights, just making for sort of a river or waterfall of light.

It'll be intersting for the return trip, through Kelowna, at morning. Probably not half as beautiful, but the valley and mountains might make up for it, barring any cloud cover.

Also, I love the sight of flying between two layers of clouds, with a blue hue where we are flying.

Just amazing.

* * *

I was reading the book that Dev lent me on the plane. About forty pages in, I find a bookmark from when it was last read, I guess.

And what a bookmark it was, too.

A movie stub to Batman and Robin from Summer 1997.

Two things popped into my mind:

1. "Wow, that's a long time. That's seven years ago."

2. "Dev paid to see Batman and Robin in the theatres? I still haven't seen that movie."

* * *

Wow. Three posts in two days. Scary. Getting back to the whole updating thing quite quickly.

Remind me to tell you about Axler's and my conversation before my flight left. He had some interesting points about my writing style...

My obsession with Sarah...

This past week, I was travelling with the choir to Fort McMurray for a winter mini-tour, to get prepared for the bigger tour happening in April.

One the bus ride home, someone put in There's Something About Mary, a comedy I like enough. After watching it the frist time, the laughs don't come as easily, I guess.

Adise from a smoking Cameron Diaz, I realize that there was a bit part played by Sarah Silverman.

Now I am a huge fan of Sarah Silverman. Hell, you could say I long for her. She fits the Jago archetype: shorter than me, raven black hair, and a sense of humour that complements mine well. (She's sarcastic. So am I. NOTHING could go wrong in our conversations. NOTHING!)

I realize that this is probably the first movie I saw her in. I might have remembered her from some 1993-era Saturday Night Live shows, but I was fading out of the show by that point.

I dunno. There's just something about Sarah in Mary. I think I was really struck during the end credits, where you have the cast goofing off to "Fill Me Up, Buttercup". There's a segment where you have Sarah seriously looking into the camera, seeming so sincere about what she was singing, while kind of deadpan too.

I was struck. Completely.

Flash forward a few years. I get into Mr. Show, probably my favourite comedy show ever at this point.

Hey, guess who's a recurring actor? My beloved Sarah.

The Fox sitcom Greg the Bunny? Sarah's there too.

When I went to see School of Rock with Dev and Marauder, Sarah was on screen, playing the part of Jack Black's roommate's girlfriend.

Marauder turns to Dev.

"So this girl here, that's who Jago's completely in love with?"

Dev: "Yup."

Marauder: "So, does she always play bitchy characters?"

Dev: (thinks a bit) "Pretty much."

So, yes. I'm in love with this girl. Really, can you blame me?

DAMN YOU, JIMMY KIMMELL!!! Get your hands off of the woman I'm totally smitten (smote? schmuck?) over.