Yesterday was a good day, with one notable exception. We had a slow morning, I cooked breakfast for the team, then were off to my Green [ Powell's | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Borders ] reading at Borderlands Books in the afternoon. That was nicely attended.
Evening brought the Footprints reading, with a cast of several and a nicely full house. That was fun as well. Dinner afterward, however, brought a total failure, with one of the worst episodes of restaurant service I'd ever experienced in my life. We'd latched onto therinth's party and gone to a place called The Pork Store at 16th & Valencia here in San Francisco. Orders were taken, etc. Food was irregularly distributed over the next ninety minutes. Except for mine, and a couple of people at the far end of the table. (Not sure whom, I just saw empty place settings.) The second time they came back to retake my order, "just to check on the kitchen", ninety minutes after my original order, I gave up. All that for a chicken sandwich that I never got to eat.
I can categorically state that no one in their right mind should go anywhere near the Pork Store. Ever. It was ridiculous, bizarre. Might even have been funny if I wasn't so damned hungry and tired.
Anyway, music now, email and writing related program activities to come after jambalaya has been eaten. Tomorrow's another day. Including, erm, another set of CT scans to check the progress of my various metastatic cancer sites. Ah well.
|Originally published at jlake.com.|