Thursday, September 9, 1999

So the world didn't stop. The computers kept working. For me it was a day that was different. I spent most of the day negotiating, making deals with employees and management, soothing the savage beasts. Made a menu for Deb. I'm sick of these twenty dollar people. The menu is large enough. It can be made cheap. Whatever.

I'm writing this in the morning of Friday, instead of late at night. It's not so fresh in my mind.

Talked to Mike at the bar tonight, he was in the Canadian Open at Glen Abbey. It was a dream for him, playing alongside the pros. That's sort of like me cooking with the best chefs in North America, except that that wouldn't be that thrilling for me now. Melanie the girl from Montreal dropped by and extolled the pleasures of a Rickard's Red Beer, and she had die dher hair red. Looked fine, she talked with Mike and me for a while. Elle est francaise, mais pas trop quebecoise.

buh-dee, buh-deee, th- th- th- that's all folks!