This is Red Canyon, a movie Co-Written, Co-Produced and Directed by my very dear friend Giovanni Rodriguez and Co-Written and Co-Produced by another new, but dear friend as well, the very talented Laura Pratt. It is being released to video on Tuesday, October the 20th 2009 at Hollywood Video and Movie Gallery, with a limited theatrical release Halloween weekend!
Wilson
I want you all to know that I really love my job. I have not always been able to say that about jobs in my past and I think many of you are shocked that I am a waitress by choice and that I love doing it! It is really no mystery as to why I love the job, the restaurant is great, the customers are diverse and interesting, I get to talk and laugh, and have fun all freakin’ day and get paid for it.
Recently, through a series of fortunate and unfortunate events I worked a 19 hour shift. It was a night full of adventure, pain, laughter, pain, lots of money, and lots of, you guessed it, pain. I thought you might enjoy a little glimpse into what 19 hours on your feet and serving customers would be like.
HOURS 1-6 This was my normal shift, and though 6 hours on your feet can be tiring especially when you stay busy as I often do, I am used to this. These hours are very similar to when I get my naughty bits waxed, these first six hours were like the outer parts, slightly annoying but not really painful. Towards the end of hours 1-6 is when I find out that two people from the night crew have called in sick, so I jump on the opportunity to earn a few extra hours and a few extra bucks (yes the first agreement was only until 8 or 9pm just 3 or 4 hours passed my shift.)
Hour 7 Hour 7 was not so bad really because one of the stipulations I gave to the night crew manager was that I had to go pay a bill. It had to be paid by 8pm and I did not want to take a chance. So this is where I got to sit down in my car while running said errand for about 20 minutes….ahhhh, never thought of my P.O.S. Chevy Cavalier as the most comfortable thing but at this point…yeah…good stuff.
Hour 8 This was the hour in which I agreed to the torture I was about to endure. This may sound dramatic, but as you will see when the hours march on, not so dramatic….reality….it is a bitch and that bitch likes to inflict pain!
Hours 9-12 These hours were busy for part of them and then a slow down. At the end of hours 9-12 I knew I was going to get a bit of a break! See on Monday nights from 10 to 1030pm I do an internet radio show on blogtalkradio.com it is a comedy duo type deal so obviously it cannot be done without both myself and my best friend Jason of jaysays.com and our comedy website ejoculation.com. The fact that I was going to do this show come hell or high water had to be agreed to or I was not staying on the overnight. This was agreed to quite easily as a. Noone else could stay overnight and the overnight person had called in sick and b. I was starting to look a bit frayed and fragile at this point and I think they were afraid to say no. Whatever worked!
Hour 13 30 minutes of this was spent sitting in my car (already established as comfortable) doing a very funny show and smoking a few cigs. All of which were going to be important more than I knew to the last 6 hours of this saga….and everyone who came into the restaurant in the middle of the night’s safety.
Hour 14 and 15 At this point I was thinking this was not so bad, really. I can do this, with little to no incident. As you will soon find out when I delve into the darkness of hours 16-19 I am totally speaking too soon.
Hour 16 This is the point of the evening eh morning, that I am now the only waitress, all others have been cut and sent home to do wonderful things like sit… lay down… pee without having to hurridly remove aprons and all other manner of stuff and do it as though you were a car driver in the effin’ Indy 500 only without the pit crew! I very quickly began to envy my cohorts in the serving industry, these obsessive thoughts would get much creepier in a bit, for now, just a mild jealousy.
Hour 17 Delusions are starting to kick in, I am managing to keep it from the endless parade of customers, but my own head, well it is impossible to hide from your own head. I am also realizing that muscles are burning, not a mild burning but a burn that feels like actual flame is being applied to various parts of my body. Also, did you know there is a muscle right behind your ear that does actually start to hurt when you have been waitressing for 17 1/2 hours? Finally at about hour 17 and 3/4 I went into our walk-in fridge, grabbed a cantelope, made him hair of parsley and a face of fruit and called him WILSON. He would be my companion for the rest of the ordeal, and really the only reason I survive it.
Hour 18 This was the hour in which I became very happy that my only customers on the 8 tables I had were one of two things, cops or drunk people. I was grateful for the tables of cops because I felt that if I were to pass out they would have the training and wits about them to save me. I was grateful for the drunks because my exhaustion at the this point was so severe, I was slurring my words and making no sense and this was going completely unnoticed. They also seemed to not care that what I was bringing them was not what they effin’ ordered but rather what I saw fit to put in, or not so much saw fit to but what I DID put in during brief blackouts.
Hour 19 Several things happened in hour 19. First I completed my hit list for those of my co-workers that were home and asleep, it was less of a list and more of a kill everyone I work with type thing written over and over and over again on my order pad and kids menus in crayon. I also realized I could now feel nothing below my waist. In a way that was a blessing for me but not really considered one by the customers when I did things like come walking up to their table dragging a leg behind me or using my good arm to throw my now dead arm on the table with the pot of coffee in hand. I also think it might have been slightly off putting when I started having arguments with Wilson, hey that melon head has some really strong opinions on things and I really just do not agree with his philosophies, he is kind of an asshole.
Also in hour 19 I cried real tears when I saw my replacement walk in the door. I might possibly have run to her and screamed out “MY HERO” and lunged myself into her arms and kissed her all over her face as though she were Richard Gere and I was Debra Winger in “An Officer and a Gentleman” but I don’t believe I did, though the survellience video kinda looks like I did, it was a bit grainy so not sure. I choose to believe it did not occur.
I have to say I think I handled the whole thing with grace and style. I don’t think anything out of the ordinary happened that I should be in any way ashamed of or worried about though I have no memory of anything after Malinda arrived. I also choose to believe that the ticket in my apron for driving erratically, the fact that my shoes were on the wrong feet, and the fact that I woke up in the fetal position on my front porch about six hours later in no way reflect anything at all of any kind whatsoever.