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The 14th job I was fired from.
(job abandonment).
I was hired by a friend who managed convention services. After my friend and boss at Plan B skateboards Mike Ternasky passed away, I was feeling particularly nihilistic. I had planned on working at Plan B skateboards until I retired to drive around the country in an RV or something. My friend was the graveyard shift manager. I decided to take early morning classes at Palomar College, work the graveyard shift at the Hyatt and sleep during the afternoons.
The graveyard shift was easy enough. Most of the time you worked alone or in small teams breaking conventions down and setting them up, or refreshing the snacks for a morning meeting. However, I have never seen such a rag tag crew of degenerates, 3 time losers and social outcasts working together under a single crew. Most nights I was paired with a retired gangster who had recently been released from a 15 year stay in San Quentin, a recent Filipino immigrant who did not speak a word of English, an old Russian alcoholic who kept a 5th of vodka in his locker at all times and carried a flask that attached to his belt at the hip, a Vietnam vet and some ex-heavy metal guitarist for a band that “played a lot of shows but never put anything out” complete with a long permed mane.
At first glance it does not seem that any of these people would have anything in common. Nevertheless, the thread that tied everyone together was intoxicating substances and a brutal continuing contest of who could consume the most of them in a single evening. Most nights it came down to the old Cholo on parole and the Vietnam vet. To keep the subsequent insanity to a minimum, as the manager, my friend would keep the Cholo in one crew and the Vietnam vet in another crew.
The Cholo was an expert with cocaine and amphetamines. The Filipino kid smoked at least an 8th of weed every day. The old Russian alcoholic carried a sizeable flask of straight vodka with him at all times or else he became visibly irate. The Vietnam vet had an extensive working knowledge of every hallucinogenic known to mankind and carried no less than three of them with him at all times and the Heavy Metal guitarist specialized in pharmaceuticals but would ingest any amount of anything handed to him.
I put the Heavy metal guitarist to the test one night when he was so high that any notion of work was out of the question. It was about 4am and we were cooling our feet in the pool. Earlier he had finished a bottle of vicodin and tossed the container in the trash. I took the container and filled it with these tiny M&Ms that people were giving out at a convention. He was passing in and out of consciousness. I told him he had to get his head straight and help me finish the job we were on because we had just taken a 2 hour 15 minute break. We were supposed to be putting chairs out next to the pool for a private breakfast function at 8am. He told me that any help from him would be impossible because he felt like his legs were under water (which they were). I got his legs out of the pool and told him the bottle of mini M&Ms were amphetamines that would get his head straight so we could finish the job. I also told him that the general manager was looking for us on the radio. At this, he perked up, snatched the prescription bottle of M&Ms from my hand and tossed them all down. He smoked a cigarette and drank a handful of water out of the adjacent fountain. After he threw the smoke into the pool he yelled “All right man! Good lookin’ out! Lets to this!” all too loud for a hotel pool at 4:30am but he got right up and we finished the job before it was time to leave.
Most nights large quantities of booze and marijuana were consumed. The Vietnam vet mostly stuck to mushrooms and weed, The cholo and the Filipino kid stuck to beer and weed. The Russian Alcoholic only drank vodka. I never even saw him eat a bite of food. The heavy metal burnout would stick to painkillers. It was up to my friend and myself to try to keep it all together.
The other hotel employees feared and avoided us. If we got on an elevator with one of the maids, she would get right off at the next floor without fail. All the other managers made fun of our crew because we fucked up a lot but there was a secret underground of employees from other parts of the hotel that respected us and wanted to be part of the convention services graveyard crew because they knew what we were about.
Word spread and in rare cases that I worked outside of the graveyard shift, people would ask me questions about the mysterious outlaw graveyard crew. We started to get an underground network of employees and allies surrounding us. It got to the point where we got free food and booze, extra rooms to nap in, keys to the pool, free parking, extra clean uniforms to keep in our lockers, access to the executive rooms, and the magic key to the super hard to get into honor bar stock closet.
At some point, I just could not handle it anymore. I started off the evening really tired because it was finals and I hadn’t slept for a couple days. I was drinking all kinds of coffee trying to stay awake. The old Cholo kept trying to talk me into taking some free crystal but I would decline each time. I grew up in Poway, CA when it as the epicenter of the crystal methamphetamine empire of North County San Diego. Crystal is a disgusting and ugly drug. It changes everyone who takes it into the most exaggerated version of the worst side of themselves. The old Cholo thought I was being respectful and that I just did not want a take out, so him and a friend who was a cook at a restaurant in the Hyatt, cooked me up a full dinner loaded with crystal. They brought it to me and the old Cholo told me that if I did not want to do drugs to wake up, a good dinner would do the trick. They even made me a triple Americano that they said had extra kick.
I was unsuspecting and ate the whole meal. A little later I felt really good. I felt strong. I felt like I could work all night and do every one else’s job for them. When I got home, I studied for a final and drove in to take it feeling like I was on top of everything. I was happy that I had gotten this boost and I planned to go home and crash after the final.
However, when I got home I could not sleep. I figured it was the coffee, so I cut myself off and did some more homework. I cleaned the house. I picked up my girlfriend from work. I cooked us dinner. I read a bunch more. It was time to go to bed again because I had the night off but I still could not get to sleep. I started to freak out. I told my girlfriend that I was overdosing on caffeine. I looked it up. It was rare but possible. I read all about caffeine. I read all about coffee too. I read about a lot of the other C things in the medical book. All of a sudden the sun came up again and I had been reading the C section of the encyclopedia all night. I knew a lot about the medical properties of caffeine, camels, cars and other things that started with the letter Ca-Cl. Without sleeping, I took another final, this time without studying for it because I forgot to, although, I feel like I knew all of the answers just right out of the blue.
By the time I got to work, I was shaking and feeling kind of feverish and sick. I was really getting tired out but I still felt like I could not sleep. I fell into work and got my assignment. I was working with the old Cholo dude again. He asked me how I was doing. I told him. He said it sounded like I needed another good meal. Still without understanding I said, “yeah, no shit.” He laughed and told his friend from the restaurant. His friend said, “yeah man, after all the fucking crystal we put into the meal, you probably haven’t slept yet!” all of a sudden I realized what they had done. This “favor.” I had stayed away from this drug for that very reason since kids started trying it in 5th grade. Now it fucked me up on my finals and kept me from being able to work. I called in a break and went up to the executive suite. 4 hours later everyone else came up for lunch and I was passed out cold on the couch. My friend said it took him over a minute to wake me up while everyone else told him to let me sleep. I made it through the last 4 hours of my shift and told my friend I was moving to Los Angeles over the weekend.
The 14th job I was fired from.
(job abandonment).
I was hired by a friend who managed convention services. After my friend and boss at Plan B skateboards Mike Ternasky passed away, I was feeling particularly nihilistic. I had planned on working at Plan B skateboards until I retired to drive around the country in an RV or something. My friend was the graveyard shift manager. I decided to take early morning classes at Palomar College, work the graveyard shift at the Hyatt and sleep during the afternoons.
The graveyard shift was easy enough. Most of the time you worked alone or in small teams breaking conventions down and setting them up, or refreshing the snacks for a morning meeting. However, I have never seen such a rag tag crew of degenerates, 3 time losers and social outcasts working together under a single crew. Most nights I was paired with a retired gangster who had recently been released from a 15 year stay in San Quentin, a recent Filipino immigrant who did not speak a word of English, an old Russian alcoholic who kept a 5th of vodka in his locker at all times and carried a flask that attached to his belt at the hip, a Vietnam vet and some ex-heavy metal guitarist for a band that “played a lot of shows but never put anything out” complete with a long permed mane.
At first glance it does not seem that any of these people would have anything in common. Nevertheless, the thread that tied everyone together was intoxicating substances and a brutal continuing contest of who could consume the most of them in a single evening. Most nights it came down to the old Cholo on parole and the Vietnam vet. To keep the subsequent insanity to a minimum, as the manager, my friend would keep the Cholo in one crew and the Vietnam vet in another crew.
The Cholo was an expert with cocaine and amphetamines. The Filipino kid smoked at least an 8th of weed every day. The old Russian alcoholic carried a sizeable flask of straight vodka with him at all times or else he became visibly irate. The Vietnam vet had an extensive working knowledge of every hallucinogenic known to mankind and carried no less than three of them with him at all times and the Heavy Metal guitarist specialized in pharmaceuticals but would ingest any amount of anything handed to him.
I put the Heavy metal guitarist to the test one night when he was so high that any notion of work was out of the question. It was about 4am and we were cooling our feet in the pool. Earlier he had finished a bottle of vicodin and tossed the container in the trash. I took the container and filled it with these tiny M&Ms that people were giving out at a convention. He was passing in and out of consciousness. I told him he had to get his head straight and help me finish the job we were on because we had just taken a 2 hour 15 minute break. We were supposed to be putting chairs out next to the pool for a private breakfast function at 8am. He told me that any help from him would be impossible because he felt like his legs were under water (which they were). I got his legs out of the pool and told him the bottle of mini M&Ms were amphetamines that would get his head straight so we could finish the job. I also told him that the general manager was looking for us on the radio. At this, he perked up, snatched the prescription bottle of M&Ms from my hand and tossed them all down. He smoked a cigarette and drank a handful of water out of the adjacent fountain. After he threw the smoke into the pool he yelled “All right man! Good lookin’ out! Lets to this!” all too loud for a hotel pool at 4:30am but he got right up and we finished the job before it was time to leave.
Most nights large quantities of booze and marijuana were consumed. The Vietnam vet mostly stuck to mushrooms and weed, The cholo and the Filipino kid stuck to beer and weed. The Russian Alcoholic only drank vodka. I never even saw him eat a bite of food. The heavy metal burnout would stick to painkillers. It was up to my friend and myself to try to keep it all together.
The other hotel employees feared and avoided us. If we got on an elevator with one of the maids, she would get right off at the next floor without fail. All the other managers made fun of our crew because we fucked up a lot but there was a secret underground of employees from other parts of the hotel that respected us and wanted to be part of the convention services graveyard crew because they knew what we were about.
Word spread and in rare cases that I worked outside of the graveyard shift, people would ask me questions about the mysterious outlaw graveyard crew. We started to get an underground network of employees and allies surrounding us. It got to the point where we got free food and booze, extra rooms to nap in, keys to the pool, free parking, extra clean uniforms to keep in our lockers, access to the executive rooms, and the magic key to the super hard to get into honor bar stock closet.
At some point, I just could not handle it anymore. I started off the evening really tired because it was finals and I hadn’t slept for a couple days. I was drinking all kinds of coffee trying to stay awake. The old Cholo kept trying to talk me into taking some free crystal but I would decline each time. I grew up in Poway, CA when it as the epicenter of the crystal methamphetamine empire of North County San Diego. Crystal is a disgusting and ugly drug. It changes everyone who takes it into the most exaggerated version of the worst side of themselves. The old Cholo thought I was being respectful and that I just did not want a take out, so him and a friend who was a cook at a restaurant in the Hyatt, cooked me up a full dinner loaded with crystal. They brought it to me and the old Cholo told me that if I did not want to do drugs to wake up, a good dinner would do the trick. They even made me a triple Americano that they said had extra kick.
I was unsuspecting and ate the whole meal. A little later I felt really good. I felt strong. I felt like I could work all night and do every one else’s job for them. When I got home, I studied for a final and drove in to take it feeling like I was on top of everything. I was happy that I had gotten this boost and I planned to go home and crash after the final.
However, when I got home I could not sleep. I figured it was the coffee, so I cut myself off and did some more homework. I cleaned the house. I picked up my girlfriend from work. I cooked us dinner. I read a bunch more. It was time to go to bed again because I had the night off but I still could not get to sleep. I started to freak out. I told my girlfriend that I was overdosing on caffeine. I looked it up. It was rare but possible. I read all about caffeine. I read all about coffee too. I read about a lot of the other C things in the medical book. All of a sudden the sun came up again and I had been reading the C section of the encyclopedia all night. I knew a lot about the medical properties of caffeine, camels, cars and other things that started with the letter Ca-Cl. Without sleeping, I took another final, this time without studying for it because I forgot to, although, I feel like I knew all of the answers just right out of the blue.
By the time I got to work, I was shaking and feeling kind of feverish and sick. I was really getting tired out but I still felt like I could not sleep. I fell into work and got my assignment. I was working with the old Cholo dude again. He asked me how I was doing. I told him. He said it sounded like I needed another good meal. Still without understanding I said, “yeah, no shit.” He laughed and told his friend from the restaurant. His friend said, “yeah man, after all the fucking crystal we put into the meal, you probably haven’t slept yet!” all of a sudden I realized what they had done. This “favor.” I had stayed away from this drug for that very reason since kids started trying it in 5th grade. Now it fucked me up on my finals and kept me from being able to work. I called in a break and went up to the executive suite. 4 hours later everyone else came up for lunch and I was passed out cold on the couch. My friend said it took him over a minute to wake me up while everyone else told him to let me sleep. I made it through the last 4 hours of my shift and told my friend I was moving to Los Angeles over the weekend.
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