Fun with words and words for fun

Fiction Outtakes 388: Bill Wynn 376

kitchen-4

“Been giving you her coke,” Wayne said when Jackie was out of the kitchen. He looked at Bill and shrugged his shoulders. “What it is.”

Bill slapped him high five. “Hope you have more,” he said.

“Got plenty. Just we have to keep it to us. Ain’t enough for the three of us.”

“Pay you back soon as he gets in.”

“No problem,” Wayne said.

Wayne was finished the fried eggs, plated them, put some home fries and sausage on the plate, set the plate under the warmer lights. He tapped the bell.

In almost every kitchen almost everywhere Bill worked there was the little bell to tap to let the waitresses know to pick up. A moment after the ding, Aja, the one Asian waitress they had, came in to pick up her breakfast.  Aja stood only four-eleven. She was thin as a toothpick with no tits to speak of. Her almond-shape eyes were slanted Vietnamese style and she wore her dark hair in a boy’s crew cut.

Aja was sweet on Bill, not for any particular reason Bill knew of. He had it in mind, this very day too, to mess with her specially because he noted she had done her nails. They were long and red. She had the finest fingers he’d ever seen.

“Hey baby,” she said to Bill, her breakfast in hand. “Join me outside if you can. I’m sitting out in the café.”

Bill smiled and nodded acknowledgement. He hit up again, quickly snorting four lines before he went out. He took a coffee with him and found where Aja was sitting. She had chosen a table at the back of the café closest to the kitchen door from the loading dock. He would have preferred a beer, but he didn’t want customers, if any came at this early time, to see him drinking.

“So,” Aja said when he sat down, “we gonna be busy?”

“If I knew I’d tell you. Sure looks and feels like it.”

“Good. Cause I’m working all day.”

“All work and no play’s no fun.”

“Play comes later.”

“I’m closing. You live around here?”

“Not far.”

“Live alone?”

“I have a roommate. You?”

“All by my lonesome.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Depends upon what you’re thinking.”

“Thinking you probably know what I’m thinking. But if you want me to say it, thinking we don’t have to go home alone.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You do coke?”

“Why?”

“I want to know how much to have on hand.”

“I don’t mind partying some.”

“Good,” Bill said.

That’s when they heard the crash. Bill recognized the crash, a plate, for sure, either down on the floor or against something. He hoped, as he sat there, it was down on the floor.

“I better go in,” he said quickly.

He found Jackie and Wayne in a stare-down. She was on the pantry side of the service counter, Wayne by the stove. She had dropped a plate, Bill saw. It was down there on the floor. He just didn’t know if it was purposeful or by accident, but if he was guessing…

Jackie was about to say something, but Wayne was trying to stop her. He was saying if she didn’t watch out the manager would be coming in and it surely wasn’t going to be him that got fired.

Jackie flashed Wayne the bird. It said what she wanted to say to him but quietly. About that time the manager did come into the kitchen. He’d heard the plate drop.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Everything was not okay. In fact, everything was about as far from okay as could be, just they couldn’t see it yet. Jackie contained herself for the moment, ordered her breakfast from Wayne while the manager stood there. Bill went back on the line, the manager back to the office.

Pick up a copy of my published works here: 

By Peter Weiss

and

Fiction Outtakes: The Second Hundred   available later today on Amazon

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And the Big Losers Are

losersObama was the big winner because he understood several key things. First, he understood that because he was Black he could get away with almost anything. He understood that the media was on his side, much more so than as just an ally. He understood that the media was in love with him and that they were willing to cover up many things, to not report the negatives and to hide that which he wanted hidden.

Obama also understood the dynamics of the breakdown in language and reasoning and how to capitalize on it. He understood that he could do anything he wanted and not be called to task simply because of this breakdown in reasoning and language. What for many of us would seem to be wholly illogical and near-crazy was presented by the media as acceptable and rational.

So overall, Obama was and remains (no one knows for just how long though) the big winner.

Here’s a partial list of others who were big winners because of Obama:

  • the rich
  • illegal immigrants
  • non-citizen residents who were able to vote fraudulently and collect benefits here in America
  • illegal aliens who were able to collect benefits under Obama’s policies
  • Democratic non-profit organizations
  • organizations like Planned Parenthood
  • organizations like black lives matter
  • climate change proponents whose findings mirrored what the government wanted them to be
  • colleges and universities intent upon suppressing conservative speech and thought
  • Communist/Socialist countries like Cuba and Venezuela
  • China, Russia, Iran and North Korea
  • The Palestinians
  • the mainstream media (except for Fox)
  • Socialists here in America
  • people like George Soros
  • those supporting anarchy and the breakdown of America

And of course there were a lot of others, but this is a good representative list.

Winners and losers have a symbiotic relationship. If there is one there is the other. So if Obama was the big winner, and there’s very little doubt about that, then somewhere, somehow, there has to be a big loser, or, a big loser and then an extensive list of also-big losers under the Obama administrations.

The biggest losers were the American people, all of the American people.

It remains to be seen if the world is a big loser too because the full effects of the Obama administrations are not wholly seen yet and are being somewhat undone by the current presidency. Nevertheless, whether you like America or not and/or like capitalism or not, America is the most charitable country in the world. It leads the world in medical research and gives the most foreign aid to other countries except for China, but a good percentage of China’s aid is for commercial access rather than development and welfare.

It’s logical and it goes without saying that if the Obama administration could give around $150 billion to Iran, the leader of the terrorist world   that openly advocates the complete annihilation of the United States and Israel, the American people were the biggest losers.

There are many other reasons besides the Iran debacle which make the American people the big losers under eight years of Obama. They range from poor economic policies to a breakdown of the traditional sense of justice as it was known prior to the Obama years.

Listen carefully to the Democrat “speak.” They continually signal they actually see the American people as losers.

Pick up a copy of my published works here: 

By Peter Weiss

and

Fiction Outtakes: The Second Hundred   coming later today on Amazon

Turn Left, Not Left, Right. Not Right! I Said Turn Left.

Human Trafficking 1

Turn left! Not left, right! Not right! I said turn left. Don’t you know the difference between left and right? What kind of parent are you? How can you be a parent?

In a nutshell, this is how Child Protective Services (CPS) workers treat you and make you feel once they are in your life.

Rule Number One: Never let them in your life.

If you’ve read the Nancy Schaefer piece, which is the headline piece for this material, you can see that messing with Child Protective Services is dangerous even for a prominent politician. At best, CPS is a benevolent broker of children that fashions itself as a champion of children who need protection. At worst, and this is the case much, much more than as a do-gooder, it is a for-profit dealer in human flesh whose tentacles reach into the darkest worlds of child prostitution and child slave trade.

Like every large government agency, CPS was begun with earnest humanitarian intent but has morphed into a money-hungry viper intent upon only one thing:  its own survival at any cost. This is, by the way, Social Darwinism.

Testimonial:

We broke Rule Number One. It happened in New Jersey and the Agency was DYFS, the Division of Youth and Family Services. Toward the end of our struggles with DYFS they changed their name to the Division of Child Protection and Permanency. That is issue for a different discussion. Painfully noticeable in the name change,   however,    is the elimination of any pretext of working with families. We can’t underscore enough the enormity of the significance of such a change in focus and scope.

I tried to turn left. I really did. But I told you to turn right. No, you told me to turn left. Are you telling me that I don’t know which way I told you to turn? (Implication: how dare you correct me? How dare you argue with me?) Okay, I’ll turn right. But I told you to turn left.

This was pretty much the demeanor of every DYFS visit once they were in our lives. The caseworker would go through our house as if it were public domain. One time she found a yogurt that had expired the day before and accused us of feeding our kids expired and no-good food. She suggested that we could go to the grocery store together (of course not her, but one of the DYFS aides) so she could show us how to read the expiration dates and pick the freshest food. That one of us had three advanced degrees including a Doctorate was of no import. In fact it was a negative because the caseworker was self-conscious about her own lack of education.

Another time, the driver, the same aide who was to take us shopping, commented to her that our child’s clothes were too small. In fact the foster mother had dressed our child that day in the second-hand stuff she always put our child in. The result of this comment was the caseworker’s demand that we go clothes shopping with—you guessed it—the aide, not the caseworker herself, so we could learn what sizes our child wore. We actually agreed to this but insisted that the caseworker take us since we wanted to please her and wanted to make sure what we bought fit correctly. Of course the shopping trip never materialized. But the judge would read in her case log that we refused to go shopping to learn how to dress our child.

–Anonymous

Sound familiar? Ring a bell? CPS workers are known for making parents second guess whether it is time to take a breath. That is how devastating their criticisms and recriminations, their antagonistic, demeaning, belittling manners, are. Their goal is to make your head spin so that in the end they are sure to have justification for keeping your children once they’ve seized them.  They want to keep your children for profit, nothing more.

Rule Number One: Never let them in your life.

Pick up a copy of my published works here: 

By Peter Weiss

and

Fiction Outtakes: The Second Hundred   coming next week on Amazon

Fiction Outtakes 387: Bill Wynn 375

kitchen-4

Bill didn’t say anything to Jackie. They stood next to each other on the loading dock turned toward the café. Finally, in a huff, Jackie said, “Men.” She angrily crushed out her cigarette with the heel of her shoe and stormed off back inside.

Bill stood a while longer. He watched the waitresses. They were not all new since the regular, year-round waitresses got their choice of stations and the smart ones chose the café. It filled quickly and stayed filled from late spring through the summer and into the middle of fall. They could make more money outside than they could inside.

Regardless, Bill had already picked a favorite of the newbies and was getting ready to mess with her. She was a college kid, maybe twenty, a dark-haired beauty by Bill’s standards, tall, skinny, small-breasted, a darker-skinned Caucasian.

Bill’s rule about messing with waitresses was simple. He would mess with them if they let him and leave them alone if they didn’t. Through his whole career he would never persist in messing with a waitress who did not want to be messed with.

Waitresses were a strange breed. In general, and for the most part, they would do anything and everything for tips. This meant things like rubbing their nipples with ice cubes to make them stiff and leaving the top two buttons of their uniform blouses open so male customers could easily see their cleavage. Some of them messed around with certain customers, and none of them ever let a customer feel as if he didn’t actually have a chance, even if he didn’t actually have a chance.

Of course there were some waitresses who were just waitresses, the professionals, the ones who were there to make money but not for the bull shit. These were the ones who didn’t flirt with the cooks. These were the ones who do their jobs quietly, efficiently, effectively. These were the ones who provided good service to customers with the expectation that customers would leave them good tips for the good service.

Jackie was certainly not of that latter class. Jackie was surely of the former class, although Bill could never say he actually saw her twist her nipple or put an ice cube to one to make it stiff so a customer could see it. But that day, at that time when she stormed back in from the loading dock, she was pissed at her boyfriend Wayne, probably hung over with a headache and surely very tired. So in the kitchen, even before Bill got inside, first thing she did was rip into Wayne.

“What the hell,” she said. “You got shit for him and he’s no one to you, but you ain’t got nothing for me? Damn you. You should have known better. You should have known I’d want some and you should have had some for me.”

Even from out on the loading dock Bill could hear everything. By the time she got to her last words he was already back in the kitchen.

Wayne was standing on the line by the stoves. Jackie was standing across the serving counter opposite him. Raul, the Mexican pantry boy, was standing at his pantry station in close proximity to Jackie because the pantry station in this kitchen was fit to the line at an L.

Wasn’t the first time Raul had heard a cook and a waitress have a tiff. In the scope of things, as far as it was at the moment, this one wasn’t bad.

Wayne didn’t say anything to address what Jackie had said. He was frying an order of Sunny-side up. “Want some breakfast?” he asked her.

“Kiss my ass,” Jackie said.

Pick up a copy of my published works here: 

By Peter Weiss

and

Fiction Outtakes: The Second Hundred   coming next week on Amazon

Fiction Outtakes 386: Bill Wynn 374

kitchen-4

The cook’s name was Wayne. He was mid-twenties, a musician of sorts. He stood a large six-two. That was quite large for kitchens. He had to continually duck under the rim of the exhaust fan settings over the stoves and broiler. He was a trim one-ninety, and he could have passed for Latino, but he was light-skinned African American, not that that mattered to anything.

Wayne was cool mostly. Like musicians, he liked to drink and he liked to drug and he liked women and he was single and free. But he did not play the field at work. In fact mostly he stayed away from the waitresses, preferring to either pick girls up at the bar or get them at the clubs where he jammed playing jazz.

The waitress’ name was Jackie. She was, like so many waitresses, a would-be actress. She was a faux-blonde, about five-six and maybe one-thirty or forty. She was a little plump, very rosy in her cheeks. Like her boyfriend Wayne, she liked to do coke, and she very much like to drink. Bill had noted that she was a sloppy drunk and he always tried to stay away from her when she was being stupid.

The outdoor café’s opening at this bistro meant a bevy of new waitresses brought in every year. They were brought in just for the summer and were told this up front so they understood the nature of the position. Choice of waitresses was largely based upon their attractiveness, their ability to handle tables, or their experience, and their ability to mesh with the regular crew. The process of hiring the waitresses started in the early spring, weeks before the café opened so the staff was completely ready from the get-go.

Jackie was a jealous sort. Wayne had a roving eye and was not shy about looking at the ladies. He fancied himself, like maybe most musicians did, a ladies’ man.

What started it off would never be clear. Jackie came in bleary-eyed which Bill assumed meant she was hung over. He made a comment to Wayne something to the effect of that she looked like shit, to which Wayne responded that they’d been out all night and had only gotten a few hours sleep. Ten he intimated that when they got home they didn’t go right to sleep.

“I’m tired too,” he told Bill. “But I got the coke so I’m just fine for now.”

So that was it. Maybe. Bill started to build the scene in his head. He watched Wayne and Jackie have the conversation over by the door to the loading dock. The door was slightly behind the line, between the line and the prep kitchen. The prep kitchen was directly behind the line. At the back of the prep kitchen was the walk-in box, the only walk-in box this restaurant had. Bill would wait for waitresses he liked to go into the walk-in to get the desserts for the display and then he would go in after them to help himself to some fun.

The conversation got heated. Bill imagined Wayne was telling her he didn’t have enough coke for her, not even enough for a starter. Of course he didn’t really know what they were saying, but she stormed off hot under the collar, went out onto the loading dock where she could let off the steam, maybe. Anyway, she smoked a cigarette. Bill found this out when he went out to catch some sun light and a smoke himself.

From where they stood, together, but not together, on the loading dock, Bill and Jackie could see the activity in the café. The café waitresses were busy setting up. They had to use that same entry door to go into the kitchen, through the kitchen to the bar for their bar orders, to get anything and everything they needed from the inside. It was a tough job involving a lot of walking. But they made a lot of money.

Pick up a copy of my published works here: 

By Peter Weiss

and

Fiction Outtakes: The Second Hundred   coming next week on Amazon

The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword

quill-pen-300x300The pen is mightier than the sword!

So when we start to think about how wise or unwise our ancestors were, we might start with the insight of he who said “The pen is mightier than the sword.” It was said by Edward Butler-Lytton, an English author, in 1839.

The greatest ally the Democrats have is the mainstream media. Or, the word, not the sword. When you start to think about it, I mean really actually think about it, some of the stuff coming out of the mouths of some of the Democrats is pure hogwash. And that’s not even to mention the irony involved, or the flip-flops, or even the faulty logic.

What makes it possible for the Democrats to get away with the garbage they are spewing are the mainstream media. Like Pravda, which we used to criticize for its propaganda, the mainstream media broadcast the Democratic yarn over and over, a stuck record a good part of the American populace simply accept as  “that is what it is” simply because they hear it all the time. The word. What they are hearing his propaganda.

So let’s be clear about a few things. First, we can’t judge people of old by today’s standards. So a slave owner in 1750 can’t be judged by today’s outlook on slavery. We might ask several questions such as didn’t they know better and shouldn’t they have known better. But we can’t judge them for acting according to the laws and “norms” of their times other than to say that we know now they were wrong, we know now that for one man to own another is not only wrong but immoral.

Or the pen is mightier than the sword! Back then, the definition of “a man” was how slavery was allowed to occur. The pen is mightier than the sword!

The wisdom and insight of our ancestors is pretty amazing. Shakespeare wrote then about all the issues and matters we deal with now. Yet in our shortsightedness, we’ve decided to stop studying him because… it was so long ago, he was a male chauvinist, he’s no longer relevant, etc. Could Edward Bulwar-Lytton have foreseen today’s mainstream media and consequently the power-impact of the “word” today?

And so here we are. One of our politicians says something and our mainstream media run with it. Right or wrong, right or left, the media either criticize or laud what is said simply by their own political viewpoints, generally regardless of the logic of what’s been said and/or whether or not there is any factual basis. Then they pride themselves on being unbiased free press. More hogwash. But repeat it enough times and…

Pravda, déjà vu.

Propaganda pure and simple. Or, the pen is mightier than the sword, and just look at where it’s taking us.

Pick up a copy of my published works here: 

By Peter Weiss

and

Fiction Outtakes: The Second Hundred   coming next week on Amazon

THE CORRUPT BUSINESS OF CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES (6th installment)

nancy schaefer 2

 

continued…

EXHIBIT B

Failure of DFCS to remove six desperate children

A brief report regarding six children that Habersham County DFCS director failed to remove as disclosed to Senator Nancy Schaefer by Sheriff Deray Fincher of Habersham County.

Sheriff Deray Fincher, Chief of Police Don Ford and Chief Investigator Lt. Greg Bowen  called me to meet with them immediately, which I did on Tuesday, October 16, 2007. Sheriff Fincher, after contacting the Director of Habersham County DFCS several times to remove six children from being horribly abused, finally had to get a court order to remove the children himself with the help of two police officers.

The children, four boys and two girls, were not just being abused; they were being tortured by a monster father.

The six children and a live-in girl friend were terrified of this man, the abuser. The children never slept in a bed, but always on the floor. The place where they lived was unfit for human habitation.

The father on one occasion hit one of the boys across his head with a bat and cut the boy’s head open. The father then proceeded to hold the boy down and sew up the child’s head with a needle and red thread. However, even with beatings and burnings, this is only a fraction of what the father did to these children and to the live-in girlfriend.

Sheriff Fincher has pictures of the abuse and condition of one of the boys and at the writing of this report, he has the father in jail in Habersham County.

It should be noted that when the DFCS director found out that Sheriff Fincher was going to remove the children, she called the father and warned him to flee.

This is not the only time this DFCS director failed to remove a child when she needed to do so.

(See Exhibit A)

The egregious acts and abhorrent behavior of officials who are supposed to protect children can no longer be tolerated.

[End of report]

 

Pick up a copy of my published works here: 

By Peter Weiss

and

Fiction Outtakes: The Second Hundred   coming very soon now on Amazon


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