So what’s trending in social media today, besides election crap ad nauseam and whatever the Kardashian/Jenner clan have been up to? Some are saying that hyper screaming-Mimi exercise guru Richard Simmons has been secretly transitioning into a woman. I really couldn’t care less one way or another, but every time I see this guy, I’m taken back to the 70s.
I’ve mentioned before that I knew him then… as a maitre d’. Yes, that’s right. When I was 14-15 years old, he was the host at an Italian/Continental restaurant/bar that one of my dad’s closest friends owned. We went there at least once a week, oftentimes more.
What was Mr. Simmons like back then? Exactly the same as he is now, except he wore long pants and a collared shirt. Same wild hair, same loud, pushy demeanor. I honestly don’t know how he got this job, or how he kept it. He was obnoxious. He’d butt into conversations, sit on the arm of the plush dining chairs and poke his nose into what we were eating. He once told me that I was too fat to be eating fettuccine Alfredo. (He was right, but it still wasn’t his place to say so.)
(If I’ve told this story before, forgive me. I’m old.) One time, I had ordered shrimp salad. I knew of the chef’s penchant for covering salads with black pepper, which I hate, so I specifically said, “No pepper, please.” When Richard brought me my salad, sure enough — tons of black pepper. So I asked him to take it back. “Oh, come on,” he snapped at me. I insisted, and he left in a huff. A few minutes later, he came back with a fresh salad, plunked it down in front of me so hard the lettuce jumped a little, and said, “Here you go, spoiled brat.”
Ha. I guess he got that part right. *snicker*
It was shortly after this job that he got interested in health and fitness (I guess that was partially due to watching a bunch of people consume platefuls of heart-attack food), opened his first gym, and the rest is history.
Just another little tidbit from my crazy past. In other, more on-topic news — Steve came over yesterday! Finally! He showed up at the door, announcing, “Hi, you called 1-800-SPANK-YOU?” I really, really needed this; I was one big ball of leftover tension from the day before. I had not yet learned out to work the navigation thingamajig on my new phone, and I had to drive someone unfamiliar. I Mapquested it, but the directions turned out to be vague and open for interpretation (and of course, I interpreted them the wrong way), and I got ridiculously, hopelessly lost, driving around and around, disoriented, pulling over, trying to figure out how to get directions on my phone, shooting texts, pulling back into traffic, getting lost again, pulling over again… UGH!! This is what happens when a Baby Boomer tries to be a Millennial! The good news? Steve showed me how to work Google Maps on my phone and get the spoken directions, so this won’t happen again. And oh, a lot of my tension is gone. 😀 No pictures this time, sorry. We were too busy making up for lost time.
I have lots of work (yay!), and I need to get to the gym, so I’m out of here. Happy Hump Day.