#66 "The Dirty Shirty Gang" In Color!!! July 17, 2013

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The Music Boxer

I hadn't been to work in a while. I was somewhere, I forget where now. It was probably one of two places, but the specifics are lost on me now. I was settling in to work as one does after an extended time away from the workplace. You know, when you are kind of happy to be back and working again, but still a little melancholy about the trip you were just on. You think about where you were a week ago, two thousand miles from work, where your co-workers were the whole time, toiling away while you were on a beach or something.
But I was kind of happy to be back. I certainly needed the money.
I was excited to get started, to see some of the regulars and chat about the adventures I had been on. I would tell them the highlights and maybe the lowlights. We would talk about getting there and getting back. Somehow people always like to talk about that. It's almost like it comforts them to know that going on a long trip requires a fair amount of travel between the two places. If this travel takes a turn for the worse, it helps the person who never left feel better that they never left. It makes them think that well, I didn't go anywhere but thank goodness I didn't, with all that confusion and hassle just getting there and back.
I was back. The guys in kitchen had already made the usual jokes about me not having a job anymore, they had given it away to someone else since I was gone too long. I had already told the stories over dinner to my co-workers, eager to hear something new. We weren't open yet, but there was already a little buzz of activity over at the bar. My Monday was their Friday. My first day back was their end of a long, awful week. They needed that first, second, and third drink. I needed some coffee.
I went into the coat room to change clothes, from my street clothes into my work attire. Button down shirt, tie, and bistro apron. I put on my King Kong tie and tucked it in so only the bi-planes flying high over the Empire State building were visible, while Kong himself stayed hidden beneath my shirt. People really loved that tie, somehow, even without seeing that Kong was always hidden away, minutes from an ugly death.
It was then that I heard it. It had been the next CD in the 5 disc CD player the whole time, I simply hadn't recognized that the previous CD was the same as it always was. And now, this. This one CD that was on an endless repeat. Waiting patiently as 4 other CDs played before it, until it spins into place and starts. I don't know exactly how long it had been in there. It must have been years, spinning around in the same order and playing the same music 6 nights a week for how long? How could anyone gauge that? The only people who would know tried not to think about it. Outside of the place, we all put it out of our minds; tried our best to not think about the tunes. I'm sure some of us dreamed about the tunes, over and over again, playing in our work nightmares. The trumpet, the saxophone, that one solo, that one note that isn't right but is so ingrained in our minds that if it were to magically become correct we would all revolt.
The whole CD came back to me in those first couple of notes. I could see the entire setlist in my head, knew all of the parts and all of the breaks. I didn't need to hear it, it was so deep within my psyche, I could recite it a capella on the street corner and pick up some extra change. I hadn't thought about it for the entire time I was gone, and now, within one hour of being back, here it was, waiting to greet me upon my returning. Like a bully waiting for me after school, waiting to beat me up because he liked the girl I liked but couldn't articulate himself enough to make her notice. He just bellowed and howled out the same tunes over and over again, punching, kicking and scratching at me with them until I wore them as scars.

#64 June 19, 2013

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One of my favorite parts about this one was making the ant farm. It seems to help this giant machine devised by large-brained aliens run well. Although maybe it is really just cosmetic. Regardless, I enjoyed drawing it, and I am not sure I had ever drawn one before. It's funny how there are some things that you never draw even though they are part of your history. When I was a kid, we had an ant farm. I am pretty sure we were inspired to get one by Raul's Wild Kingdom on the classic Weird "Al" movie, "UHF." Whatever the inspiration, my brother and I thought it would be a cool thing to have an ant farm. So, we went to the mall, and picked one up from Kay-bee toys or from the Nature store. You don't get ants at the store, which I initially thought was a little weird, but these kits are all sealed up so there's no way the ants would be able to survive on the shelf for so many weeks/months/years, so instead you had to send away for the ants. The company who makes the farms will then send you live ants through the mail. At this time in my life, I was living in Syracuse, New York, and anyone who has been to Syracuse, knows that it is cold there pretty much 10 months out of the year. So, when we finally got our ants from the real farm/factory, they were frozen solid and dead. It's crazy to think back on that, only because I am remembering them all frozen and dead, but also packaged in a test tube, essentially. So, my brother and I are looking at all these dead ants in a frozen tube and we are obviously pretty bummed out because we want to see these ants dig! Right? That's why you get the ant farm in the first place, because you can't believe that they will actually be able to do the digging (even though your whole life you've seen ants doing just fine on their own). So we sent back the frozen ants, and soon enough we had ants in a tube that were totally alive! We put them in the green plastic farm that was three-quarters filled with white sand, and watched to see if they would really dig. And weren't we pretty excited when they did! Wow, those ants really digging tunnels! Minutes of fun!
We had the ant farm for about as long as the average kid has an ant farm, which is to say, until the first batch of ants dies. Once they were in there and working away, the whole novelty of thing had worn off. Don't get me wrong, the inventors of the ant farm are geniuses. Whoever can make money by mailing bugs to suburban homes for 50 years is pretty smart. Not to mention, the simple design of the thing is pretty amazing. It's no more than a couple inches deep, and about the size of an 11 x 14 poster that is a self contained, living  picture. The more I write about it here as an object, the more I want to get one again, but in my adult life. I think I want one just to see if I could take better care of the ants now that I am a relatively normal, functioning adult. Or, would the ants grow to be a finite age and die, but not cannibalize each other. Because, that was one of my questions then, as it is now. What happens to the remains of the ants when they die? I doubt the ants bury one another, so where do the corpses go? Also, since there is no queen sold with the set, how does one continue the colony except by introducing new ants into the existing farm?
Luckily for me, there are still thousands of people buying and selling ant farms. In fact, NASA developed a new gel as a sand substitute which also contains nutrients for the ants, so they could be observed in zero-gravity. All of the questions I have just asked have been answered by the internet. That is a great thing about writing these blog posts. While I am writing, I have some pretty random stories that send me down strange rabbit holes of internet. This post is a perfect example of this; I would never look up ant farms or be interested in getting one, but since I was going down memory lane, it just kind of happened. Now I know NASA is interested in ant farms and their history goes back to 1900's era France. Yes, this knowledge is all but useless, but it might make for some interesting conversations at the bar tomorrow.

#61 "Richard of XIII Street" May 30, 2013

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Working in the Village in New York City puts you in pretty close contact with all walks of life. You come across the salt of the earth as well as the pepper. I have seen and heard things that most people couldn't dream up, and this picture is about one of those instances. This story happened to Tim and I sometime in the fall of 2011, I am guessing, based on the date that I scanned this picture into the computer (that date is January 18, 2012. That means it took me a year and a half to color it in. Looking at the timeline of these drawings sometimes makes me think about the years that people would spend on one painting. I never understood that until now). So, Tim and I were standing outside of the Loup and Tim was complaining. He had this thing on his hand, a swollen, red bump that may have been a spider bite or a rash of some sort, but it was painful and itchy. As we are discussing this, a man walks right up us and says, "what's the problem?" To this, Tim shows the guy his hand and the guy whips out a switchblade and says, "I could lance it right now!" To which, Tim and I backed off and said something along the lines of, "Whoawhatareyoudoingdudeputthatknifeaway." The guy chuckled and said he was just kidding and that he just wanted to use the bathroom. We let him in the restaurant because we were a little shell shocked and maybe thought we didn't have a choice. This guy only looked a little homeless and the stunt with the knife had caught us off guard. Well, we were laughing about the whole thing, and then we thought, "Oh no, this guy is probably robbing the place, and we let him in!" so we look through the window, and see him coming out, so Tim decides to retaliate with a joke of his own. As the guy is coming out the door, Tim pretends to rob him! We all laugh and the dude starts telling us a story. His story goes like this: His name is Richard and he lives in the neighborhood. He's been carrying the switchblade on him for 30 years, since back when the neighborhood was a little dicier than it is today. Back then he thought he needed a little extra protection, and then when his kids were born, he thought they might need a little extra protection. I realize that there are people out there that believe they have to be armed to walk around the city, but I had never been confronted like that. I have been jumped, but those dudes were just kids without weapons, and sure they made me bleed, but the incident didn't make me think I needed to arm myself to walk around the city. So, we hear all of this talk from this dude, and then we invite him in for a drink. He says he'll come back another time, and as we are exchanging our farewells, he leans over to Tim and says, "Oh, and your hand? That'll clear right up tomorrow." And you know what? It did!

Well, I was amped after that whole thing. I went right inside and broke out this triple dupe pad. It already had that Batman rip-off guy on it, so I thought Richard would be a good foil to that. If the Batman character was Good, then Richard would be Evil or vice versa. I think I got his likeness pretty spot-on, from his shit-eating grin to the army surplus jacket. The only thing I did wrong is he is holding his knife backwards, the lock should be on the top. My favorite part about the drawing is the Tim character whose hand is all swollen up and Richard is about to lance it. Tim drew the face of "himself" earlier, and I merely added the arm and body. It worked out perfectly. The rest of that drawing filled itself in pretty steadily over the course of a month or so, until I finished it up in mid January, 2012.  We never did see Richard again. Maybe he cut his hair or trimmed his beard. Maybe he was really just a well-maintained homeless guy. Maybe he moved. Or, probably, he was just one of the 12 million people that cross your path every day in this city. Only, this one time, he stopped to talk and give us a little scare with a switchblade. 

#59 "2-5-5-4-7-4-6" July 10, 2013

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This month marks the five year anniversary of the "Tim & Jeremy's Mind on Loup" series. Five years ago, on September 1, 2009, I posted the Very First collaboration drawing that Tim and I had ever done. I am sure there were more before it, but we had never taken the time to bring the drawings home to do anything more with them. In fact, Tim and I had been working together at that point for at least three years, so we could have been doing these things upwards of 8 years, or as long as we have known each other. It would be funny if we had started right from the beginning. In the five years since we started these things, we have made it to a grand total of 105 finished drawings (with countless loose doodles collected by myself, Tim, and Edie). The fact that we are only on number 59 on this blog is a little disheartening to me, as the writer, since that means that I am behind by almost half. Daunting, to say the least. I mean, as the time has gone on, the blog posts have gotten more and more complex, mirroring the artwork. If you go back to the first drawing, it is really just six doodles that seem to come together to form a narrative. It wasn't until years later that the drawings started to become a universe of their own, complete with backgrounds, themes, inside jokes, and substance. The first couple years there were a lot of growing pains, Tim and I both trying to figure out exactly what we were doing with these things. The happy answer is that, to this day, we still don't know what we're doing with these things. We still make them, and have a stack waiting to be finished presently in a drawer at the Cafe Loup. Some are almost ready, some are still in the premature stages, but there are plenty coming down the line. As long as we both work at the Loup in some form or another, these drawings will continue to be made, since when we are spending time there, we are adding, subtracting, and ultimately making more and more artwork. It has become ingrained in the daily life at the Loup. You go to work, you doodle a little bit, you serve hungry guests. Then you have a beer and doodle some more. It's just the way we do things there.
Over the past five years, the progress of both the drawings and the blog have gone through fits and starts. Had it not been for the years 2011 and 2012, I might be caught up with both; however, those two years I was spending my time differently. That time ended up making future T&J's heads and shoulders better than their brethren of 2009-11 (in my opinion). If you look at the early ones, you can see how inept I was at using Photoshop, the program I use to color all of these drawings. I had been using Photoshop since college, but I wasn't really that good at it. I could use the basic tools and even then I was lazy and would cut corners. I look back at those drawings and I want to recolor all of them, but of course I stop myself because they are a time capsule of where my skills were at the time. Taken as a whole, you can see the progression of skill and comfort gained merely by continuing the project. Then, once 2013 comes around, you can see a major transformation. The years 2011 and '12, I spent illustrating children's books that you can find here. Spending the whole year working on these books honed my skills to a whole new level, and it shows in the drawings from 2013. I always like to look back on the past and see that progress has been made, and it is clearest when you look back on artwork that you have created in the past. As an artist, you like to think you are always at your best. There are days and months that you sometimes feel like you are stagnant and doing nothing interesting, but then you look back at the work you did a year ago, three years ago, five years ago, and you see that back then you didn't know half of what you know now and that the quality of work was simply not as good. There are occasions that some of the things you made were good, but I feel like on the whole, you are always improving, or if not improving, then you certainly change. Brush strokes change, line quality, all of it. I mean, when I first started coloring these in Photoshop, I was using a mouse! It wasn't until almost two years later, that I started using a Wacom pen and tablet to color them. That technology changed the whole look instantly. I still use the same pen and tablet as I did then, and I've used the same version of Photoshop this whole time because I'm a cheapskate. But I got comfortable with the technology and so it has influenced the look of these drawings. To my eye, the more recent ones don't look dated to me, even though I am using outdated technology. But I also know for a fact that in a year, three years, and five years down the line I am going to look back on these recent drawings and think that they are very primitive and outdated. But, like the restaurant in which each of these drawings is conceived and created, everything changes while staying the same all at the same time. Tim and I have been drawing pictures on the Triple Dupe pads for 5 years. We'll draw on them again tonight, and tomorrow and on and on. No matter what happens outside of those walls, the drawing will continue as long as we are working within. 

#52 "Down in the Mouth" In Color! February 16, 2012

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I was probably coloring this one in exactly two years ago today. I think my computer was in a different location back then. So, instead of facing West, as I am now, I was facing East, looking at the opposite wall. Of course, Tim and I had finished this drawing over the summer of 2011, but we had so many to color that it took me until February to color this one. It's the same thing now, I am always a couple months behind. Sometimes more. In fact, this one marked the last T & J drawing that I worked on for almost a whole year. The year 2012 was a busy year for me and I felt like I didn't have the time to work on these drawings. I was working on writing and illustrating children's books for an iPad App called Mibblio that my buddy Sammy Rubin was developing. I worked on five books that year, illustrating four of them. If you have an iPad, you should download the App and grab a couple of my books; I think you will like them. It was a great experience, but it kept me extremely busy. However, because of that experience, my coloring style changed drastically, as you will see in the upcoming posts.  After such a long hiatus, I got extremely backed up with all of these drawings. Because, even though I wasn't coloring them anymore, we were still drawing all the time at the restaurant. That part never changes. As long as we are working in that place, we keep drawing pictures. At this point, it has become part of the routine at work. I think it is the best part of work sometimes. I think about the drawings sometimes when I'm not there and I wish that I was still working on them when I am at home. I know that this thought is insane. Who in their right mind would want to be at work just so they could work on an elaborate doodle that will someday, years in the future, end up on some blog that only 8 people read? Granted, 2013 was a very productive year for me and I was publishing one of these almost every week. But, I feel like I will never catch up unless either Tim or I quits the restaurant and we no longer draw these pictures. To give you an idea of how backed up I am on this blog: At present, we find ourselves looking at #52 in full color. Last week, I published #86 on Bookface. That means, for me to get caught up, I have to write 68 more blog posts since each picture gets two posts; one for the original Triple Dupe Pad drawing and one for the colored version. Those 8 of you loyal readers know that I write a blog maybe twice a month on average. That means I won't be caught up to #86 for 34 months, or roughly 3 years. Sometimes I write a little more than that, so we could average it to be 2 years from now that I will finally make it up to 86. I guess it's good to have goals.
  I used the word "have" but I guess I don't have to do anything. I enjoy writing these blog posts and I enjoy revisiting the drawings. I don't look at these drawings very much, so it's nice to see them a year or two down the line. They provide a window into the past for me. Some carry pleasant memories, some carry some unpleasant ones, but they all act as a time capsule for me. Some of the drawings I don't even remember drawing, but even those ones carry a reminder of a vague time somewhere in the past. In the mean time, the drawings keep coming down the stairs like the brooms carrying the buckets of water in "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" and I couldn't  be happier about it.

#52 "Down in the Mouth" February 16, 2012

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This one is reminiscent of a bad dream. The kind of dream where you take out all of your teeth one by one and don't even mind doing it. You wake up and the rest of the day feels wrong, like there is something hanging over your head, or just beyond your peripheral vision that you can't describe, and when people ask you what's the matter, you reply, "I had the weirdest dream last night and I can't shake it." and they nod and say that they understand. Most of the times, people don't like hearing about your dreams because they are too personal to you and they don't corollate with the real world. Sure, sometimes your dreams are taking place in "real life" situations, in real cities or in real places, but most people just zone out when you tell them about your dreams. The only time people are really engaged in your dreams are the ones that these people are in, or least have a bit part in, and when you are recounting the dream,  you start off the conversation with, "You were in my dream last night."  But even then, these people assume that the two of you were having sex or something kinky, but usually intrigued and want to hear the whole thing. Then you start telling them about how the two of you were stealing acorns from a giant squirrel in Central Park and the listener soon loses interest.
The staff at the restaurant certainly has their fair share of work dreams and personally, I never bore of them. Not mine, of course, if I never have another work dream, it'll be too soon. Because when you have a work dream, it's never the happy times at work when you and the crew are sharing a good laugh or a smooth night where everything went great. No, it's always a chore and the work seems real and it's always the worst situations. I have very common themes in my work dreams and it's usually the same old crap from real life, but skewed and twisted so that it's even more annoying in the dream. And, like I've mentioned before, at least when real life is annoying at work, you are still getting paid. Thankfully, I rarely have these dreams, as I have heard that some people dream about work all the time, or at least once a week. That is too many times a week, as far as I am concerned.
My favorite dream that I have heard from the restaurant is from my co-worker Gary who had the most elaborate dream. In the dream, he was waiting tables, like normal, when his table ordered some drinks. He took down the drink order, went outside, and caught the crosstown bus on 14th Street. He took the bus crosstown to the East Side, and got the drinks at the bar, now located on the other side of town. Once he had the drinks, he loaded them onto his tray and got back on the bus, this time with a full tray of beverages, balancing the whole time back to the West Side. In typical customer fashion, when he delivered the drinks, one of the people in the party said, "Oh, that looks good, I'll have one of those as well." Gary then pleaded with the people saying, "You don't know what I had to go through to get these drinks!"
I personally love this dream mainly because I didn't have it, although it is one of the more amusing work dreams that I have heard. Mine are mostly drudgery and running out of glassware. I had a great one about dishes, but I have to save that one for later, because it was so funny that I integrated it into one of these drawings. You won't be able to read about it for sometime, because I think it's part of #81 or something. No, my work dreams are annoying even to me and so I rarely tell them to people outside the workplace. I think that telling people about your dreams is similar to telling non-coworkers about work. I am alway amazed when people come into the bar and start bitching about work. Granted, that's what bars are good for; you tell the bartender your woes and he or she can commiserate with you. However, I don't know your coworkers and the situations that present themselves on a daily basis at your job. You might be the jerk in the story, but since I am only hearing your side, I can only make half a judgement and agree with you that yes, work sucks an maybe Jimmy is being unfair in his treatment of you and your team. Because of this, I rarely talk about work outside of the restaurant except on this blog. Even on this blog, I try to stay positive about the workplace and try to look at even the negative parts in an objective light. This way, I can look at work from a new perspective when I am there and try to keep a positive attitude while working. Otherwise, I will turn into an embittered old man prematurely. Like, say, next year instead of two years from now.
This, however, will not make my work dreams cease to exist. No matter how positive I stay at work, I will probably always have dreams where I am in the weeds at the restaurant. Even if I left the business today, and never worked in another restaurant, I'm sure these dreams would resurface every once and a while. In fact, I recently had a dream where I started working at my first restaurant job after not working there for 20 years. I was the new guy again and I didn't know where some of the stuff was even though we were already busy and I was expected to know my way around since I had worked there in the past. It ended up evolving into some other nightmare, but when I woke up, I thought it was kind of funny, that 20 years later, I was still dreaming about my first restaurant job. I'm sure I had plenty of dreams about the old place when I actually worked there, but the restaurant had evolved and turned into the new places of my life. Then, all of a sudden, I found myself back there, where nothing had changed and I was out of glassware, the customers kept appearing out of nowhere, the dining room was angled at a dangerous pitch,  and I was right back in the weeds where I started. But you don't really want to hear about it anyway.

#50 "A Question Isn't Answered" In Color! January 12, 2012

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I was working on one of these drawings on the computer and then all of a sudden my computer shut off. I was pretty scared that my whole computer had just up and died, but fortunately the power strip had merely had enough power for the moment and shut itself off. Fair enough, I guess, one must know one's limits. However, once I turned the computer back on and went back into the Shop, I found that I hadn't saved my work in over an hour, and all that coloring I had done within that hour was gone, like I had never done anything. Like I was sitting around staring at the walls for that past hour. I'm sure this has happened to everyone at some point who interacts with computers. I remember back in the collegiate days people were always losing entire papers somehow because they either didn't save them or their word processors were malfunctioning. Yes, word processors. Remember those? Me neither.
It's annoying to have to repeat the work that you have already done once through and found it to be completely satisfactory. When you have to do it all over again, you know that you won't be able to do it exactly like you had done it the first time. You think in your mind's eye that there is no way you can replicate the original, nor improve on it. I always feel that the second time around will definitely be inferior only because I am annoyed at having to do it over again, and because of that, I'll end up rushing, cutting corners so that I can get to the place where I was before everything was lost. Trying to catch up to the place where you were just one minute ago, but it took you the last hour to get there. The bright side of my situation is that the drawing was still there. I hadn't lost that. It was still in good shape and ready to be worked on. It's not like my apartment was washed away in some Mega Tsunami and everything was gone forever. But the thing about that happening is that you are left with nothing and are given a fresh start. You wouldn't be able to recreate that stuff anyway, so you move on to new projects and presumably a new apartment. You would certainly miss all that work that you had created, but you would also know that you would be able to make more things that will possibly be better. You already had all that practice with the things you had lost, so you gained the skills that you now own to move forward. I get nervous about that scenario sometimes since a lot of my work is on paper, and the stuff that isn't on paper is in this here computer that I'm typing on right now. If there was some sort of fire bombing situation in Brooklyn and all the paper in my apartment was incinerated, I would certainly be sad. Years of work up in smoke. This sort of thing used to happen to Tim and I with these drawings all the time. Not fires at the restaurant, but people throwing out the drawings. The reason is that all these drawings are done at work on the Triple Dupe Pads which, when emptied of their order slips, look virtually like garbage, the only distinguishing feature being a couple of strange doodles on them. We've lost dozens at this point I am sure. I can still remember some of them. We had one that was about halfway complete with the picture being an homage to the Final Four basketball tournament held every spring. That one had a basketball court, some mascots milling around, some people in the stands; it was really starting to gel and then someone threw it out. We were both bummed out about it, but it would've been a fool's errand to try and recreate the drawing. It would never happen. It's like when you used to lose a roll of film and you would remember the pictures you had taken, but will never be developed. The images, even if you tried to reshoot them, will somehow be different. The light may have changed, the people now put on forced smiles instead of the pure, in-the-moment smiles they had before. And so you move on, but you'll always remember those images. Over time, you might even remember them as better than they actually were, had you had realized them, developed the film and then stuck the pictures on your hard drive. They become romantic images that only you remember. Since no one else will ever see them, they become a part of only you, and you can describe them to people, but to them it will be like listening to someone describe a dream. Abstract, had to grasp, and in the end, unimportant. Fleeting.
I wrote this because I couldn't go back to coloring that drawing right away. I needed a break from the frustration of losing all that work. I am going to go back to it nowish, but I am going to start from the point that I lost all of the work and move in a different direction. I think that will be better than tackling it from the same angle. That will be too annoying and I will only think of what I had done instead of what's ahead of me. Maybe this time it will turn out better, and if not, at least I learned the same old lesson about saving your work. 

#46 "Sacajawea's Nightmare" November 23, 2011. In Color!

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Sacajawea was pretty amazing. She was pregnant with a child and then gave birth to said child while on the expedition with Lewis and Clark back in 1804. She was detrimental in helping the expedition with relations with the Shoshone tribe that lived near the Rocky Mountains at the time. You have to remember that no white people had been this far west ever, and it was probably a good idea to have an interpreter. Even Sacajawea couldn't help the expedition once they crossed the Rockies, as she had never been that far west either. However, the whole expedition made it to the Pacific and back while only losing one man the whole time. And that was before they even left the Territories! Sacajawea died young at the age of 24, but had packed a lot of life into those 24 years. This person whom I am referring to as Sacajawea in this picture is no doubt not even close to what Tim or I were thinking about when we drew this picture back in November of 2011. Tim drew the face and I drew the body from what I can tell, and we probably didn't think it looked anything like Sacajawea then (or now, to be honest). However, like I have said before on this blog, I name these things to try to harness the chaos and turn it into something one can grasp. I could have easily called this one "Deadhead Tacos" and people would say, "Oh, there is a severed head inside a taco. That makes sense." I could've called it "Outside the Cabin in the Woods" and people would say, "Oh, I saw the horror movie with a similar title and this does look like what would be happening outside that cabin during the daytime." I think what my point is, is that no matter what these things are called, they are still an exercise in randomness. For instance, the vacuum cleaner-looking thing at the left hand side of the panel started as an espresso stain on the dupe pad. Then it got turned into the vacuum cleaner-like thing that stands before us today. Yes, that is cliche, but you have to understand that these drawings were done in a working restaurant during working hours, so these "mistakes" often happen. The days, weeks, and months that it takes Tim and I (and also some guest collaborators) to complete these drawings make most of them listless and afloat on strange seas that have no beginning and no end, but simply bob and turn with the current. Once they get nearer to their completion, sometimes they are pulled together by a strand or two of cohesiveness, but even then, it is a separate idea that has come up in the heat of the moment and sometimes will have nothing to do with the drawing as a whole; it bullies it's meaning into the drawing that was once just trying to get along in this crazy world. Then, you slap a name on it, and that further harnesses it so that now, when the viewer sees the title and the imagery together, they say, "Oh, I can totally see that Sacajawea is having a nightmare. I too hate traffic, Smurfs, cowboys and mummies and would not want to dream about them in this fashion." The fact of the matter is that Tim and I drew this picture over two years ago, I colored it in and posted it on Bookface on November 23, 2011 and I named it "Sacajawea's Nightmare" today, about an hour ago, on October 16, 2013. I think that this reasserts the drawings randomness, but I guess one could argue that it does the opposite. That the process eventually makes the piece cohesive and compartmentalizes the chaos and makes it orderly. But, as my 8 loyal readers know from previous posts, this is the question I keep asking myself about these drawings. Namely, "Is it chaos or is it order?"
To that, I say, "Oh, I just want to go watch some Smurfs."

#46 "Sacajawea's Nightmare" November 23, 2011

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It has been a while since I posted last, and I just want to apologize to my 8 readers. Sorry! I guess the last time I posted, summer was here and I just needed to get outside! Yeah, right. I spent a lot of time at the Cafe Loup this summer, more than any summer since that year I only had one weekend off all summer. When was that? 2002? Oh well. It was a good summer, though. We had some fun and even when we were incredibly short staffed, we managed to eke out some dollars and cents and have a decent summer. That time of year is always a little slow at the Loup. People want to eat outside, our regulars go away to houses on the beach or in the mountains, and we are left on 13th Street with the scraps! That's right, tourists and the locals who don't go away. We had a good name for them over the summer. It was: The Leftovers.
I'm not saying that leftovers are bad. I have pizza in my refrigerator right now that is going to be an incredible snack later that will fill me up with food and leave me happy until dinner. On that same note, I have pickled herring in a jar that I never ate and has been expired since 2010 (which I should probably get rid of but there's sentimental value there?). Of course, we have plenty of regulars who stay the summer who are amazing and always a pleasure to see, but The Leftovers are the bad ones. The ones who we would see night after night and cringe at their very presence. Of course, going up to their tables, we put on a happy face and ask them how they are beating the heat, and boy was it hot out there today! That's the thing about waiters; they can be total con artists. I consider myself a pretty amiable guy; I like most people. This is the main reason I moved to New York City. I didn't move here for the Theater District or the lovely weather. No! I moved here for the people! Can you believe it? I had been living in physically beautiful places like Cape Cod and Colorado, and I gave all that up to move into a little apartment in Brooklyn because I like to be around people. All people, any people. Some days when no matter what I do, I can't get around all these people, I wonder what I was thinking back then, but most days I am happy with their company. Anyway, back to the con artist thing. Nine times out of ten, when a waiter comes to your table, they greet you with some pleasantries and a smile at the very least. They tell you some things and take your order, smiling and being nice. I don't have to tell you that 5 times out of 10, they are putting that face on and as soon as they turn their back, the frown returns. It's not that we don't like you as customers. No. You are the people paying our bills. We live on your tips to make ends meet. However, being nice to everyone all the time can get tiresome. You know the feeling. You have coworkers that you hate, but since you see them every day, you play nice so that the day passes without incident. Now, multiply that by 100 and you are a waiter. We not only have to play nice with our coworkers, but also the people who will eventually be paying us: You. That's where the con comes in. We have a lot of misbehaved customers and regulars who routinely make our lives at the Loup miserable. These people made up the majority of The Leftovers and are the people we constantly have to con, although most days you wish that they would find another place to haunt for a while. But no, we smile and chat and they would never know that they are the Problem Child to our John Ritter. So, I guess that doesn't make us con artists because we are still providing a service. I guess that makes us insincere. However, wouldn't you rather be lied to than have us be openly hostile to you? Wouldn't you like think, "I'm not the one who causing these people stress, it's that guy over there."? I guess that IS a con afterall: making you think and feel that you are a special flower, if only for the time it takes to have dinner. News flash: you ARE a special flower (but only during dinner at the Cafe Loup).

#45 "Fever Dream" November 17, 2011

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Nostalgia is a powerful feeling. Sometimes you can remember lyrics to a song you haven't heard in fifteen years, or a certain smell will transport you instantly into the deep past. Miriam Webster describes nostalgia as homesickness or "a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for returning to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition." The second definition is aptly applied to many people who patronize and work at the Cafe Loup. The Loup serves a large portion of Greenwich Village's elderly population who have lived in the neighborhood since the 60's or before. Every night you hear people talking bout the history of New York and the history of the neighborhood. For a culture that doesn't care that much about history, (since ours is so new, and also because America is obsessed with the newest thing and the future) Cafe Loup customers and employees are obsessed with New York's recent history. People always ask how long the restaurant has been open, what was in the space beforehand, where it was originally, who used to own the place, and on and on ad nauseam. The Loup is actually the perfect place to have these conversations because it is actually a place that has no clear place in time. If, for some reason, no one was using their cell phones on a given night, one might think they have travelled back to the 90's, or even further. There are no computer screens, our cash register is the old pre-60's kind with all the great big push buttons. The bar itself is older than I am and the decor is black and white photos from Brassai and Irving Penn. It has a timeless quality that instantly makes people feel nostalgic. A lot of times I will engage in these conversations by answering questions about the past for customers, but a lot of the time, I get very frustrated about this constant harkening back to the old days. Don't get me wrong, I love listening to Jay tell stories of New York in the 1960's and beyond. I love New York history, and the history of America in general; I find it fascinating and have always agreed with George Santayana's famous quote, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." But there is a difference between forgetting the past, and being obnoxiously vocally nostalgic about it. Mixing alcohol and nostalgia is sometimes a warm and fuzzy place with fond memories and great stories. It is also a place of bitter resentment for the present and a rose colored version of a past that was probably just as bleak and depressing as the present that one is lashing out against. You might know what I'm talking about, people saying things like, "New York was so much better when it was dangerous." and "New York has lost all of it's edginess." People who say these things and things like them are always so bitter. I understand that they have a certain amount of pride in surviving New York in it's horribly gritty heyday, but just because I wasn't living here/ alive at the time, doesn't mean I'm not a New Yorker. Yes, I would have liked to see the Velvet Underground at Max's. Yes, I would've loved to see the Talking Heads and Television at CBGB's, but I didn't. I can imagine it and read about it and listen to the live recordings, and that's it. Having lived in New York for 11 years now, I am sometimes nostalgic for the New York of 2001, but that is a rarity. I am happy with what New York has become, and I am happy with my life as it coincides with New York's life trajectory. I guess those people who are so violently nostalgic really are homesick. They have become unmoored and feel that the life they are living now may not be their own; that this place, while resembling something from the past, is not, in fact, their real home. They were home in the past, and this time in their life is mysterious and menacing, making them uncomfortable and bitter. They escape to the past to try and grasp the notion of home, while the memories of that time grow more and more abstract while at the same time more comforting. I always think that these people should leave New York, if this modern incarnation upsets them so much, but then I think about the rest of America, and how foreign it feels to people who are used to the frantic pace of New York. Someone who lived in New York for so many years would be completely lost outside of the city, and so instead, they stay here and come to the Cafe Loup and bitch about how everything used to be great and how everything now is awful. Maybe one day it will all come full circle for them and they will find their home again. Until then, the Cafe Loup is open seven days a week (except on the 4th of July).

#44 "Shakespeare In The Park" November 7, 2011

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To tell you the truth, I haven't read that much Shakespeare. I've read Romeo & Juliet, Othello, and Hamlet. I think that's it. I've seen Sleep No More and The Donkey Show, but both of those are loose interpretations; the latter being very loose, if you know what I mean. So, I would try to wax poetic about the picture here being an interpretation of Billy's works but I am afraid I am not knowledgeable enough to do that. Of course, there are all of the characters that Shakespeare liked to write about pictured here. There is the hero, pictured here holding a rabbit, (or cat; let's make it a cat to really double up on symbolism) looking off into space with a knowing look; as if he knows of his impending doom and is foreshadowing the coming storm with a sense of calm and helplessness. As if he can do nothing to stop his fate. He wears headphones to block out the advise given to him by friends and family and even has an Ego growing out of his head. His ego looks down on him, unable to change his mind, although in constant dialogue with him; a sad expression on its face, also foreshadowing his grisly fate. The hero (or possibly tragic hero) is being carried in a baby bjorn by an eyeless, sexless being, possibly the narrator, possibly a spiritual being who is "carrying" the hero to his predestined future; both unseeing and uncaring, the being merely delivers the hero's destiny as written by the stars. Behind these characters is the crazy woman, the Ophelia of the picture. You may remember her from Tim & Jeremy's #21 where she first appeared in a seemingly much older form. In this incarnation, she dances at the peripheral as the men make the big decisions and ultimate downfalls. She becomes marginalized and dances her way out of the picture, literally, with her socks drooping and feeding her hat all the while. Next, we have the villain. Here he is pictured as a high school aged cat (not unlike the kind the hero has been "carrying", amIright?) smack dab in the middle of the composition. He is like Iago, stabbing the proverbial lamb in the heart with a smirk on his face implying that he will probably get away with it, or at least bring down the entire kingdom while doing so. The lamb, in turn has a surprised look, like he should have known the knife was coming, like his own fate was to die by the knife in order to become the martyr or rallying cry for the kingdom to seek revenge. The revenge can possibly come from the character right in front of him, the king. The king looks old and regal and wields a hedge trimmer, eyes wild with bloodlust. He swings the hedge trimmer wildly, out for blood of those who have been trying to manipulate him into laying down the crown and give it to the evil high school cat. He really wants to cut down the plant behind him, but he has been blinded by fantasies of revenge so powerful that his hedge trimmers cannot find the source of his ire, which is the plant. The plant obviously represents the ghosts prevalent in many works of Shakespeare. No one in the picture even notices this plant, although they should as it has a head, teeth and is sprouting small heads each with it's own mouth and eyes. The plant sits on the edge, watching the living souls play out their irrelevant drama, as it waits patiently to be joined by one and all of them. They will all eventually die, and since this is a work of Shakespeare, they will all die relatively soon. But wait! Is that a band in the background? It is! The band provides a little comic relief, like that of the jester or Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream. The lead singer adds some sex appeal by exposing himself while the backup singer provides the comedy so needed in this tragedy by throwing up and the band plays on. This is merely a stage show! Look over on the side, there is the audience, silent and ghostly, observing but making no comment; an act made difficult without mouths. They observe the unfolding drama as judges, unable to provide assistance to any of the participants in the play and must sit and watch the action unfold. 

This is certainly an entertaining way to look at this one. It gives it some weight where there may not have been any in the first place. But isn't that so Shakespearian? Ordinary lives take on extraordinary properties and turn literature into scripture, passed down for the ages that repeat themselves forever.

#43 "Two Twenty Two in the Garden of Eden" in Color October 26, 2011

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This one was posted right after my birthday in 2011. I must have been working on the coloring for a while because I know I wasn't working on it on my actual birthday. That was what I now call my "burger birthday." The night before, I had gone out and stayed out late with a couple buddies and my friend Andy Nauss ended up crashing at my house. The next morning we got up and were both in the mood for burgers. We went over to the Cafe Colette and each had a burger. Their burgers are incredibly underrated. In fact, they are the perfect breakfast burger; sweet, savory, and with the "special sauce," perfect! As you may or may not know, breakfast also doubles as lunch for me, so my next meal would be dinner. I went over to my friends house in Carroll Gardens and invited a bunch of people over for a cookout and birthday activities (drinking and smoking). We ended up getting burgers and grilling them out on the porch. I said something like, "funny, this is the second burger I've had today." and Tim looked at me and smiled a huge smile. The reason for his giant grin would become apparent all too soon. After everyone was fully noshed and setting in for the old food coma, out came the birthday cake, which was in the shape of a giant cheeseburger! My friends had gone out and gotten the cake without the knowledge of my breakfast choice, and had simply gotten the cheeseburger cake because of its absurdity. Obviously I loved it, but when everyone found out that I had only eaten burgers on that particular day, it became truly funny and poignant. I don't want you to think that I only eat burgers, although I do love them. At the Loup I have one about once a month, and sometimes actually crave a Cafe Loup burger. They are pretty darn good, some say the best burger in New York City. While high in the running (top twenty at least) I think best in NYC is a bit of a stretch. I think Best Burger on 13th Street is a better assessment. However, they are delicious. I can never eat a whole burger there anymore though. I will usually get one and cut it into quarters and share with whomever is working that night, doling out quarters. I can eat three quarters tops, and that's if no one really feels like sharing, but I find that half of the burger is more than sufficient to my needs.
I remember this picture taking a long time to color in. There is a lot of action happening and a lot of intricate little characters. The thing on the left I tried to keep the same color from the spilled bitters on the faces of the people growing out of the alien head. That also goes for the little "world dog" over on the right. They are different colors because we used two different kinds of bitters for those stains. This was when we were staining the dupe pads with bitters to add some color and also as a motivational tool. There's nothing like some randomness to help spurn creativity. You might have done that activity in your high school art class. The teacher would've asked you to draw completely random things, possibly without looking, then make you find some sort of shape in the randomness and turn it into something you can grasp. I remember liking that activity although now I think that most people will see what they always see, like in a Rorschach picture. I always draw faces, so I would probably will a face out of the chaos. Maybe not, sometimes when I look at the clouds I see monkeys on jet-skis and bears on the couch. I guess if I looked at any of these things today, I would see a cheeseburger. I bet you all a quarter that we will have burgers for staff meal tonight at the Cafe Loup.
I'll keep you updated.

#43 "Two Twenty Two in the Garden of Eden" October 26, 2011

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These drawings that Tim and I do are an exercise in randomness. The drawings are done over the course of a couple days, weeks, and sometimes months. We only work on them at the restaurant, and then only when we have some extra time or are inspired by something or another. In this one, we dripped two different kinds of bitters onto the Triple Dupe Pad and then drew the characters from the spots. After a couple passes at the drawing, there is still never a true narrative and as I have said a couple times on this blog. Sometimes there never is one true narrative. The viewer can make up their own story about what is happening in the drawings. So, the fact that this one is about the Garden of Eden is completely arbitrary. It could be about space aliens invading the earth or about how Jim Morrison defended the Alamo from a horde of Mexican robot animals. It's really all about being random. I think that people need to categorize randomness into something that they can understand. No one really likes randomness because it makes them feel out of control, like they are not the master of their reality. I guess I am like this as well, since I am always trying to steer these drawings into something cohesive instead of just a random bunch of lines and spots on a Triple Dupe Pad, which they are. Finding the meaning in these drawings is almost impossible because they are done by two people over the course of a long time who maybe don't know what they are thinking about when they are drawing these pictures. So, later on, once they are finished, I take them home and conjure up a meaning for them in my head and give meaning to them through their title. I am almost positive that neither Tim nor I were thinking about the Garden of Eden in the least respect while drawing this picture. I know I was not. However, there are the two central figures, nude (but for a hat) in the middle of an incredible variety of animals, many of whom are no longer living and have been extinct since the time of Eden. These two people, though small, bring the picture together as an allegorical Eden. Had they not been right in the middle of the composition, or in it at all, the picture would almost certainly be about something else. Take them out in your mind and you see a bunch of animals, some monstrous multi-headed beast, and some clouds over a landscape. I am also sure that if some people of the church saw this, they would certainly call it sacrilegious. They would say that it looks more like The Garden Of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch, signifying man's decline and descent into hell. Our greatest bar regular, Richard always says that Tim and I are the modern versions of Bosch anyway, so that would be okay with me. I always liked that painting; it was so weird and so different from what was happening in art at the time. Western Art was completely devoted to the church and except for portraits of rich people, was the only art form accepted at the time. Bosch was pretty much the first Surrealist, although you could argue that all religious art is surreal since it is depictions of invisible divine figures who have never been seen by the artists. In that sense, the artists had to imagine what these gods looked like, maybe dreaming about them, thus making them Surrealists as well.  Anyway, I did a little research about the Garden of Eden and according to the King James version, Genesis 2:22 is when god makes Eve out of the rib of Adam. So I thought that this would be the time of day that this picture takes place. So this picture is exactly what was happening at 2:22 on October 26, 0. Or would this be year Negative One? I think year 0 is cooler, so we're going to leave it at that. Okay? Good.

#42 "Space/Time Kissing Contest" October 12, 2011 in Color!

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So, people have been blogging about being waiters for as long as the internet has hosted blogs, so I feel like this one is just another drop in the bucket of blogs about waiting tables. I guess the most famous one is Waiter Rant, although that one lost its significance when the guy got fired/quit his restaurant and wrote a book about the whole thing. I read the book. At times I found it funny but as a waiter, maybe it was too close to home, but in actuality I imagined working with this clown and I ended up not liking the guy or the book very much. I recently found another blog that has been getting some legs on the interwebs called The Bitchy Waiter. Again, some funny and valid gripes about the industry, and again; thank the baby jesus I don't work with this clown. I hate my job just as much as the next guy, but I try to see the positive side of it as much as I can. Yes, I will get in the weeds and hate everyone on the earth and wish I could just be at home watching Frankenweenie, but I know that sooner or later I will be in that exact spot so why worry about it. I know that these guys are really just venting their frustration about work onto the internet for everyones enjoyment, and I am glad they are doing that. The internet should know when they are being obnoxious when they go out to dinner. In fact, everyone should read these blogs so as to learn restaurant manners. Think about it. Back in the days, most places didn't allow children. You had to wear a blazer to dinner, shorts and jeans weren't allowed, and the ladies had to wear dresses. Going out to dinner was an event, not a mere formality. Now, that being said, I am sure that waiters back then had it a lot worse than the waiters of today. For one thing, the tips were way smaller, but then so was the bill. I mean, everything was cheaper back then, so of course they are going to get smaller tips, if any at all. Also, the customers back then were all children of the Depression, so they were probably extremely tight with the old purse strings and very vocal about it. I still have customers like this. I attribute their curmudgeonly ways to them being older than dirt, but I bet some of them have been that way since they were young and hip. The moral of the story is that there is always going to be bad customers, just like there is always going to be bad waiters. So, no matter how much these guys rant and bitch about the customers being complete idiots, the situation is never going to change. People are always going to have crazy requests, and it's only going to get worse. Food allergies are way more common these days than ever before, special diets and food regimens, and low/no carb people aren't going anywhere. They are going to be around forever, and I'm sure a lot of them don't like to cook because even they find themselves obnoxious, so they'll be dining out tonight and every night henceforth. I guess the only thing that these bloggers and all waiters nationwide can hope for, is that the new generation of diners learns how to tip. I think all of these bloggers should recommend the Tip Calculator App for the smart phones. There should be sponsored links on the sidebars of their blogs and little plugs in all of the blog posts. I mean, all the kids have smart phones and the app is FREE! Because, let's face it, if you're always getting good tips, how much bitching are you really allowed to do?
Apparently, a lot. Sad emoticon.

#42 "Space/Time Kissing Contest" October 12, 2011

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This one didn't start with the wine stain. I'm not sure if the wine stain was on purpose or not, either. I am pretty sure, the girl on the bike and the fox were the first things drawn here. The fox was actually drawn by Tim's girlfriend Catherine. Or, it was a collaboration. That was when Tim and I still worked together on Sunday nights. I still work the bar on Sunday night, so if you're not doing anything on Sunday, come down and hang out with me. Tim couldn't take the jazz any more. That, and Sundays are a nice day to spend with loved ones, not at a bar or at work, which are one in the same when you work at Cafe Loup. I personally miss him working on Sunday night, as it is my favorite shift at the Loup. For me, it is because I am the bartender and I love being behind the bar. It is so much more enjoyable than waiting tables. It is very different, anyway, which is why I like it so much. Waiters get no respect, while bartenders get all the love. I think it's because the bartender is the last person between you and the booze. A waiter is but a middle man; if your waiter won't get you some booze, you can always bypass him and get it straight from the bartender. The bartender is the guy who can cut you off and throw you out as well. Generally, a waiter has to go through a manager to throw someone out, although I guess they have the power to cut you off as well; but then if you are sneaky, you could always just go straight to the bar! We no longer have a traditional "manager" at the Loup anymore. Ardes is the de facto manager, but she also owns the place, so she's wearing a bunch of hats. I like this about the Loup as I feel like there is a special place in hell for restaurant managers. I have been saying that for years although I stopped for  a while after our last manager died. But then I thought about it, and if there is a traditional hell, like the one portrayed in the Bible, than our last manager is definitely there. He was the poster boy for behavior that would warm up your seat in hell for you. After he died, we didn't get another manager. We have a couple people who are close to being management, but they don't want the title, the pay, or the responsibility. I don't blame them; that is one thankless job, which is probably why managers get the reputation as hell-bound jerks. If you think waiters get no respect, managers get less than no respect; they are in the negative integer column! They are the ones who police the staff, so obviously no one likes them. They have to be there when the place opens and stay until it closes, so when you have 18 hour days every day, you're going to get a little cranky and short tempered. I understand this, which is why I would never want to be a manager myself. I am perfectly happy to stay behind the bar on Sunday nights spilling wine on the Triple Dupe Pads and turning its stain into a one-eyed, ample breasted alien girl with a high pony tail and diddly-boppers, thank you very much. Now, if I could just get Tim to come back and work with me, it would be perfect!
All of that having been said, this one remains one of my all time favorite T&J drawings.

#41 "The 35th Annual Women's Mini Golf Invitational" September 6, 2011 in Color!

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With the color on this one I tried to keep the same palette as the triple dupe pad. I used the same color from the bitters on the eyes of the characters on the far left and right, and then the skin tone on all main characters is from the dupe pad itself. The rest of the color I thought looked pretty good all faded out and classic looking. This is still the only one that I used this technique with. Most of the usual coloring is done as colorful as possible, and though it has changed significantly over the years, it still remains vibrant and psychedelic as ever. The right side of this drawing might have fared better with more elements of psychedelia, but who can tell; that might have just made that side a gross generalization and  stereotypical "spaced out hippie" drawing. Pun intended. As it is, this is a little wink at the Cafe Loup itself. I was just checking the interwebs about some history about the Loup and there doesn't seem to be any written history about the place. It doesn't have a Wikipedia entry anyway. The history as I know it has been passed down by word of mouth, which is exactly what the current owners, Lloyd and Ardes want. In fact, that is how we advertise there as well, strictly word of mouth. So, I may be doing the restaurant a disservice by creating a history about the place here on this blog, but it is only a history of my experience there so it is incomplete, one sided, and possibly completely wrong. But here is the history as I know it. Back in 1977 a couple named Bruce and Roxanne wanted to open up a nice little French Bistro in Greenwich Village. They found a place on 13th Street between University and 5th Avenue across the street from Les Trois Petits Cochons, which translates into english as "The Three Little Pigs." Bruce and Roxanne thought it would be a good idea to set up their French Bistro across from this charcuterie and call it Cafe Loup, or "The Wolf Cafe." Cute, right? On a side note, the Loup still gets our pate from Les Trois Petits Cochons and if you can get your hands on some, I highly recommend it. So, Lloyd was the head chef there right from the beginning and he, Bruce and Roxanne served the Village for 12 years over there on 13th Street. In 1989 they moved locations, to the much larger space at 105 West 13th Street where it remains today. A couple years later, in 1995, Lloyd and Ardes bought the place from Bruce and Roxanne and have been running it since then. Almost 20 years! Amazing. I have only met Bruce and Roxanne a couple of times, but I guess they ran a pretty tight ship. Some of the people that still work at the Loup have been there since the early 90's and would be able to go into more detail about how it was working there back then, but I just don't know that much about that time. I do know that not that much has changed. I still get customers who come in and say, "I haven't been here since it was in the old location." Those same people remark on how the food is still the same and that it still has the same vibe that it had when it was just a small 20 seat place on the other side of 5th Avenue. So, the title of this drawing is a homage to the 35 years the Cafe Loup has been open. The stamp on the right hand side is the stamp we still use to stamp customers cash receipts and use on our envelopes. Of course, we don't have an Annual Women's Mini Golf Tournament, but I think if we did, it would look very similar to this picture. I think the Golf Tournament is a metaphor for something or other, I just don't know what it is for.
Your guess is as good as mine.

#41 "The 35th Annual Women's Mini Golf Invitational" September 6, 2011

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So, in the last one, "Motivationally Speaking," you can see some orangish spot on the knee of the twins who seem to be battling inside a giant pair of shorts. The spot is Angostura bitters, spilt unintentionally by one of the bartenders or waiters on a not-so-busy night in the summer of 2011. That spot got Tim and I thinking about using the Bitters intentionally in the Loup drawings, and so this is what you have here. I believe what happened is that we put down some random spots which became the person on the far left's eyes and muzzle. I then colored in the "eyes" on the planet on the right hand side. Had we not had to white out the center and give the mini golf course a little castle, this may have been a perfect T&J drawing. We might not have even had to color it in, since the bitters makes such a nice color, and compliments the creme colored dupe pad so nicely. Oh well. The Bitters looks and tastes great. If you haven't had a Bitters and Soda recently, I highly recommend one. My sister Abbie, doesn't like them because it reminds her of being hungover. I totally get this, as that certain concoction is really good for helping in alleviating the effects of the dreaded hangover. It actually works for that reason, so next time you're hung over get on that train and ride it, my friends. I, personally,  enjoy them as a refreshing beverage during my shifts at the Cafe Loup. Years ago, I was working with this guy at The Lighthouse Inn; Rich was his name, and he and I were enjoying a cigarette in the old smoking room down in the Lower Deck. We were talking about refreshing non-alcoholic beverages that you could drink during the shift, and he told me about Bitters and Soda. He said there was nothing more refreshing after running your ass off all night for the tourists. I had never had one at the time, so later that evening when we were still in the middle of our dinner rush, I went behind the service bar and poured myself a tall Bitters and Soda and gulped it down in one fierce chug. I never looked back; to this day I drink a couple of these during the night while waiting on the good people of the Tri-State Area. It doesn't have to stop at the non-alcoholic level; there are so many great drinks that have, no, need bitters in them to really perform at the professional level. There is The Manhattan and The Sazarac, The Dark & Stormy, The Bloody Mary, The Michelata, The Champagne Cocktail, and so many more delicious beverages that just wouldn't be the same without some delicious bitters to amplify and round out the flavors. I still say that I only drink Manhattans as a platform for the bitters; after a night of Bitters and Soda, I like to switch the ingredients, but not the bitters. I guess in Brooklyn these days, people are making Artisinal Bitters which are apparently pretty good. People are trying different flavor combinations like pineapple, cinnamon, celery and chocolate! I am sure all of these are good, I have tried the celery and it is phenomenal, but you give me a bottle of Angostura and some soda and I am one happy dude. We have another bottle of bitters at the bar that you will end up seeing a fair amount of in upcoming drawings, but we'll burn that bridge when we get to it.

#40 "Motivationally Speaking" July 31, 2011 In Color.

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So, then there's marijuana. Right smack dab in the middle of this drawing is a large, pink bong who's smoke is turning into a many-toothed, one eyed monster who is being eaten by another monster of similar variety but of a different color. This could only be imagined by someone actually smoking the bong at the top of the page, right? Yes, and no. We don't actually have a bong at the Cafe Loup. In fact, the last time I saw a bong like that (other than on St. Mark's or in the head shop) was probably in college, filled with a mixture of water and Vick's VapoRub. Anyway, smoking weed at work is one of the worst things one can do for themselves. As a waiter you have to interact with all sorts of people,  do math equations and speed and timing is of the utmost importance; all of which can be highly stressful and uncomfortable while high on the wacky tabacky. One time I was working at a place called Clancy's on Cape Cod. This was a no-nonsense place where we were busting out 300 dinners a night and the pace was frenetic. Every waiter was required to work one lunch shift a week because no one actually wanted to work lunch. The shift was not financially viable and the slowness and nice weather during the summer made it a grim shift. So, one day I decided to try out some pot brownies I made right before going in to work my lunch shift at the restaurant. I only took a tiny corner because I didn't know how strong the brownies were and didn't want to be baked at work. Well, as you can imagine, I was baked at work. The brownies kicked in right about the time we opened up, after all the coffee and sidework. And wouldn't you know it, we got slammed. I was running all over the place trying to make things work. I was forgetting everything possible so I had to make 3 trips where usually I could do it all in one. The cooks all knew I was wasted so they kept messing with me and then when we were all in the weeds, their fascination turned ugly and insulting. All of this made for the worst shift of my life. After that day, I always thought that if there was a hell, that's what I would be doing; an endless lunch shift that's increibly busy, with the worst customers, bad tips, and stoned to the bone. Forever.
Now, in general, there is a lot of pot smoking in the restaurant business. That dude from Waiter Rant is always talking about dishwashers smoking weed, where the waiters prefer the booze. I would say that that is probably pretty accurate, except at the Loup. Our dishwashers are certainly stone free, although we used to have some dudes who liked to smoke a lot. I think there is a description somewhere in the archives about one of them getting me so high I had to sit at the bar, not talk to anyone and draw one of these drawings.  However, those days are gone, and there are only a handful of stoners left at the Loup. I'm not sure if that is because everyones getting old or if it is merely a coincidence. I, however, would recommend marijuana to anyone who wants to, or is currently waiting tables. Maybe not during service, but certainly afterwards. I really feel like it gives you some perspective into your day. Yes, it may have been a difficult shift for many hours. Yes, your co-workers may have ripped you off and been complete idiots on the floor. Yes, you may have been stiffed by a bunch of old people who were nasty in the first place and even nastier after that second Manhattan. Yes, all of this and more may have happened, but now all the customers are gone, the co-workers are gone, you have a pocket full of money and you are really, really high. All of that petty nonsense can be washed away and let go. Everything is going to be A-Okay.
That is, until your next shift. And then it starts all over again. Better restock!

(P.S. I was really happy to bring the "Brooklyn Ol'Dirty Bastards" football team back for this one. Some of you might remember this football team from Tim & Jeremy #7. If Brooklyn ever gets a professional football team, I hope they take this team name into consideration.)

#40 "Motivationally Speaking" July 31, 2011

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When I first started working at the Cafe Loup in February of 2002, one could still smoke in restaurants and bars in New York. We had a smoking section up front and you could smoke at the bar as well. Some of the bar tenders smoked behind the bar and we as waiters could smoke at the bar, right at the end closest to the Waiters Station. It's funny to think that at one time, you could be waiting on someone not two feet away and take a cigerette break right in front of them. They wouldn't even mind, and in more than one case, someone would need something, notice you were smoking and give a gesture indicating that whatever they needed could wait until you were done with your smoke break. When smoking was going to be banned, all the smokers were in an outrage. We thought that we were going to lose a ton of business at the Loup. People were talking about how it would never catch on, that the smokers would win, that the ban would be overturned and the smoking sections would stay. Well, the ban came and went and I think the only customer who we actually lost was Dany Levy. Lloyd would lament the loss as, "She was using me for my smoking section." Ten years later, one forgets that you could smoke in restaurants; it seems insane that you were ever aloud to in the first place. I am a smoker of many years. I quit in December, but even as a smoker, I have a hard time imaging that past reality. I think of all the people who complain about the music being loud and all kinds of other insane complaints and I can't believe that these people ever went out to eat while smoking was allowed in restaurants. I guess people didn't know any better at the time and so it was a given, and it was part of going out. That is really the only explanation I can think of. That, or they were the people who initiated the ban. I personally like that this happened. I remember going out to bars back then and waking up nauseous at the smell of my clothes and hair. Everything always smelled like stale ash, and I was one of the people who was contributing to the problem and loving it.
So here we are ten years later and one can still smoke at the Cafe Loup, but you have to know when. It's one of our awesome little secrets that when it is found out by a non-regular, is news so good, it's as if we told them they won the lottery. These people get so excited, they wax nostalgic about how smoking and drinking go hand in hand and that's the way the world should be. They talk whimsically of dividing the country into two states, smoking and non-smoking. They look off into the distance of the back bar and talk about the old days, the good old days and the nights they can't remember anymore. Granted, this is a very secret and hard to come by secret for the customers of the Cafe Loup. We, as employees, were never banned from smoking inside the Loup. We have always been able to smoke there, and as long as Lloyd continues to smoke, we will always be able to smoke there. We can't take our smoke breaks at the bar during service anymore... well, actually, we can and do just that at certain times of the day. We smoke inside during service, and the customers are never aware of it. It's at times like this that one really thinks about the secret lives of New Yorkers. So much happens behind the scenes of every place in New York, one can hardly comprehend it. Smoking is just the tip of the iceberg. 

#39 "Tour De Franzia" July 24, 2011 (In Color!)

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I was going to start this blog off talking about Joshua Topolsky but then I got distracted and had to update my Twitter, FaceBook, Tumblr, and all the rest because he just inspires me to do that sort of thing. So here I am, a half hour later writing what I was going to write a while ago. The reason I bring up Mr. Topolsky is because, not only is he a sometime regular at the Cafe Loup, his reservation for sometime in March(?) of 2011 is written clearly in the bottom right hand corner of the picture above. I made it into a gravestone and I was going to take out the writing in post-production and put in something witty, but then Josh and his comrades kept coming in and being model customers so I decided to leave it in. I like that it is a gravestone now especially, since it says "Josh AOL Niwa(?) 18 9:00." This means that Mr. Topolsky was still writing for AOL's Engadget and was bringing in 17 of his closest associates (at 9pm, natch). When he started his new project, The Verge, he continued bringing in large parties, but I like that "Josh AOL" is now a gravestone, representing his time at AOL. When I turned that into a gravestone, I don't even think I knew who he was yet. It's funny when someone with relative fame comes in on a regular basis and you have no idea who this person is. This happened to me with John Slattery from Mad Men. I wasn't watching the show yet and I was waiting on this handsome dude when Edie came up to me and said, "That guy is on Mad Men." and I think my reply was something along the lines of, "shrug." Now that I have watched all of the episodes ever created, and Roger Sterling is my favorite character, I would probably have quite a different reaction to seeing him sitting at table 16. This goes for a lot of different people, although it's funny that this is something that affects us. My buddy Philip doesn't care who you are when you come into the Cafe Loup, to him they are just another customer. I like his attitude, but for me, if I know that you are some sort of celebutard, famous tech writer, author, musician, national/international figure, I am going to try to give you the greatest service ever. And I don't mean all the hoity-toity waiter nonsense that one would see in a five star restaurant; I mean the down-to-earth, amiable, and friendly service of the Cafe Loup. Because, for me, I want to see these people coming back to the Loup all the time. I want them to be my new regulars. Why, you ask? First and foremost, most of these people are good tippers. I could say, "Nuff Said" here but I won't. Instead I will go on to say that these kind of people are a pleasure to wait on because they know how to act in a restaurant. A lot of our regulars at the Loup are crotchety, grouchy, horribly needy, and evil. I can write this freely, because I know that these people do not read blogs, much less my blog. These are people who have been coming to the Loup since "it was at the old location" and still have no idea how to order or be polite. So, I'm not saying that all celebutards are good tippers and a delight to have in the restaurant; there are some who come in and the sight of them makes you cringe. I am merely saying that I really like people who come in the restaurant, make the job a pleasure and then leave a good tip. I guess if everyone was like this, and one was always only waiting on well behaved celebutards, waiting tables would be a more glamourous job and every wanna-be actress would want to be a waitress. Wait a minute.