My fleet (in part) for your time. 5 out of 7. Cressida is at the exhaust shop after custom brake line fabrication. Last of the mechanical is coming with a big invoice. But necessary. Subie is out front. (Trigger warning: This post contains cyncism by a lapsed Catholic. Consider yourself warned if you really love the Vatican.)
One of my favorite employees is getting married today. Yes, workers of the world, business owners are humans too, and we like some of you more than others. It is advantageous in all parts of life to not be a dick. Or, to paraphrase Tupac, be careful who you fuck with and who you don’t fuck with.
Anyway, she is a very nice person and an excellent employee. She first applied for a job with me that she was stupidly overqualified for, because she just wanted to get her foot in the door. I interviewed her, and told her I was not going to hire her. But I told her to stay in touch, and that I might have something she was actually qualified for. I called her a few months later, and I hired her for a better job. She is a wonderful employee, and I have supported and encouraged her in her goal to be an attorney, and I have invested in her development. I am not afraid to put money and effort into people who show they are worth it. She is going to have a great career. I know how to spot talent.
She is getting married today at the local Catholic church, about 5 minutes from my house. My dad was an old school Italian, and we were raised Catholic so the ritual is familiar. My Grandmother did not approve of what she called the “hippie church” my dad took us to (it was the 70s, so they had a kids mass with straight-hair-middle-part lady and bearded-guitar guy doing what those people do. She took us to Mass in Latin, and when that old priest was too sick she took us to Mass in Spanish at a Mexican church. I guess not knowing the language makes you closer to God than catchy hymns for the kids. Since my old man died, the only times I go to mass are weddings and funerals. Honestly, I was done with the whole fucking thing by the time I was about 15.
Nonetheless, I am excited for my employee. She is marrying her high school sweetheart, who is also a very nice person. They are so adorable together that you would puke if they weren’t so likeable. The reception is a dinner, and they did not go cheap. It is at Tenaya Lodge in Yosemite, which is super nice. Mrs. IM and I will take the GTI (she does not know that snow hooning could maybe happen if we go up higher -shh) and Toby will be joining us for a night in the lodge. A good excuse for an overnight date with my wife, my dog, and my car. Life ain’t so shitty.
Our plan is to have dinner and duck out of the reception early. We don’t drink anymore, so that part isn’t really for us. It was appropriate and respectful of them to invite us, but nobody really wants to party with their boss, even if they like him. So we will escape to hang with Toby.
I had planned on this being a short post. Sorry for babbling.