Category Archives: By Mack

Over it. –By Mack.

Jack is in his own world. Shutting himself off from the rest of the world as he gets over that girl and writes his next script. Jill is off having adventures in a winter wonder land that would only impress a tourist.  As I prepare for a season of cutting winds and black snow I’m planning to hunker down with the complete series of The Wire I got cheap from Amazon. But I can’t escape this feeling that something is missing.  I don’t have the drive I used to have.

At what age do we lose that? I suppose it’s different for each person. And maybe some of us never lose it. But not all of us are meant for big success. What’s more pathetic?  The guy is still trying to make it as an actor at 45 or the guy who, though disillusioned, understands his place. I’m not trying to be morbid or depressing or nothin’.  But sooner or later you gotta face facts.

I almost have to admire Jack’s hermit like nature.  He works till he’s done. Only time he comes out is for coffee. Don’t even see him go to the restroom. He must be hiding diapers or something.  And with Jill, she may be annoyingly NYC green, but there’s this excitement in her. She goes to museums and plays and street fairs.  I used to be much more like both of them. What changed?

I’m almost ready to resign. Settle down with some girl. Raise a kid and push him so hard to go after his dream while he can. Cause that shit dries up. I’d totally be the dad who beats the crap out of the other kid’s dad at a t-ball game.

–Big Mack Attack.

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Posted by on January 5, 2012 in By Mack


But you move on. –by Mack Jack and Jill

Jack’s not doing so well.  He met this girl a few weeks ago. She was pretty hot actually. Some French girl. I was pretty surprised. Happy for the guy. But I knew it wasn’t going to work. 

 So this bitch used Jack to get back at her ex-boyfriend. 

Jill really didn’t like her.

It’s so nice to have someone to cuddle with while you watch Spirited Away. I was practically cradling her.

She was like 19. Why do older guys always go for infants?

I told Jack to keep a distance.  Have fun with her. Stay in charge.  But you can’t tell a thirsty guy to stop at a shot of water. 

I couldn’t believe she came so far to see me the first time we met up. She trained through half of Manhattan in rush hour to get coffee with me for like 15 minutes.

She just wanted a place to sleep outside of her dorm where she could smoke.  

He waited for those text messages like they were orgasms. 

She couldn’t for the life of her tell the difference between your and you’re. And God did she used “lol” so much.

I mean I get the need to have a little fun. But I think Jack falls into things. 

 Jack’s always going to take it to heart. Everything’s gonna be personal to him. He just can’t take it for what their worth. 

I knew exactly what Christmas gift to get her.

I’m always watching out for that turning point.

There’s that moment when you know you’re just wasting your time. 

When you can tell they aren’t attracted to you anymore…the text messages stop coming so fast…they’re not so excited when you plan to meet up. When you know you’re no longer the priority…

That’s when I end it. It’s better to be the dumper then the dumpie. It’s all a game. If you’re not having fun, stop playing. 

I had this friend from Paris. She said there isn’t even a word for dating in French.   

It felt so good to make her laugh. She used to be so pissed when she came to see me. The train was late, her phone wasn’t working, her ex said something mean to her. But in ten minutes I had her smiling.

It’s not real. There’s no substance there. 

That’s the beauty of these little short romances. You can be whoever and you can make your partner feel as good as they need. They’re like little escapes from reality.  

She was a brat. She threw tantrums. And the way he’d sit outside with her every time she smoked. It was like he was her puppy dog. 

She visited him when he was sick. It was too sweet of her. That’s when I knew Jack wasn’t keeping her at a distance. 

She would scratch my shoulder. With her nails. Lightly. It tickled. And I like the way she smelled. I did laundry yesterday. When I got to the shirt she slept in, I considered not washing it. I smelled it again. I think the laundromat is the one place you can smell clothes and not look like a weirdo.

But you just gotta dust yourself off. Get back out there. This wasn’t some long term relationship. Turn around time should be an hour and a half. Tops.

Jack’ll wallow. He’ll blame everything on himself. “What did I do wrong?” “Why wasn’t I good enough?” He’s sensitive. He’s not built for flings. You can tell that after five minutes of talking to the guy. I mean he still does the chivalry stuff. 

You never know how to look at yourself. You wonder about your accomplishments. Did you win them because you are bad ass or because no one else showed up? Maybe the judge was pissed at the other guy for some stupid reason. Are our miracle successes indicative of our progress or mere blips of chance?

It’s not about them. It’s about you. It’s your ride. If they wanna come along, great. If not, fuck’em. Then kick them to the curb. 

“You can’t hurry love. No you just have to wait. “

I’m just so tired of starting over.

Happy Winter Solstice. 

-Big Mack Attack

-Jack Out

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Posted by on December 21, 2011 in By Jack, By Jill, By Mack, Dating


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This blog post will self destruct in 4…3…2…(A review of Mission: Impossible Ghost Protocol) –By Mack

Wow what a week. Jack and Jill have been non stop crapping their guts out as they both are suffering from the flu. I’ve been taking care of them. What? I can be maternal.  Anyway, I finally got out of the apartment for non work related crap (since Jill’s calling out, I had to cover her shifts) and I saw a movie last night. Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol.

Yes Ethan Hunt is back in another spy action thriller. Is it a run of the mill sequel or does it do the impossible? (i.e. bring something new to the action table.) In short, the answer is the latter. Ghost Protocol is directed by Brad Bird, director of The Iron Giant, The Incredibles, Ratatouille, and episodes of The Simpsons. Not your run of the mill action director. Though, The Incredibles certainly had good action sequences. Mr. Bird manages to bring his sense of humor to the movie and it really makes the film enjoyable.

Jackie Chan is credited as saying about his choreography (and I’m paraphrasing) “You need to have hit, hit, joke. Hit, hit, joke.” And Ghost Protocol captures this philosophy. Too many times have I gone to action movies felt very blah during the fight scenes. Sure the guy just took down twelve henchmen. But there was nothing to savor. In Transformers, you can’t even tell what’s happening during the action sequences. So I am elated to report that by and large, Ghost Protocol get’s it right. You feel the hits, the fights are fun to watch, and there is a sense of danger and stakes in all the action. This is what an action movie needs to accomplish.

Another bit of fun is some of their gadgets. We all been watching Bond films for decades. We’ve all seen the exploding pen and the BMW with missile capabilities. Without giving anything away, there are some interesting and humorous sequences driven by the IMF tech. Definitely, some things that made me think, “that’s pretty clever.”

Now, if you’ve seen any trailers or poster at all, you’ve probably seen Tom Cruise climbing Burj Dubai building. The producers and marketing are apparently very proud of it. And they should be, because this whole section of the movie is its crowning achievement. If you are looking for a reason to see this movie on IMAX (other than the BATMAN prologue) this is the reason.

The supporting cast is solid. There’s enough characterization for Jeremy Renner and Paula Patton’s characters that you care about them. And Simon Pegg is who he always is. Granted he’s been funnier in other things, but he works. Even LOST alumn Josh Holloway makes an appearance.

My minor complaints are (1) the plot is what it is. Not as complex as the first Mission: Impossible or a Nolan film. About on par with an average Bond film. No big plot twists or double crosses. Does this make the movie bad? No. Does it stop it from being memorable? Yes.  And (2) the aforementioned Dubai scene is the film’s peak. After that there’s nothing as cool. So the ending is a bit of a let down. Nothing silly or stupid or feels like a cop out.  Just nowhere near as cool.

The movie does what it does well. It’s fun, fast, funny, and a perfect summer action blockbuster…in December!

– Big Mack Attack

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Posted by on December 18, 2011 in By Mack, Reviews, entertainment, etc...


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Wonderful World of Texting — By Mack

There’s no doubt that texting has become a dominant form of communication. It’s addicting. Especially when it comes to dating. Now some girls say they don’t respond to text messages with the Cosmo inspired line, “If a guy wants to talk to me, he can call me.”  And to that I say, don’t fall while you’re ridding around on your high horse.

Text messages are today’s love notes. They’re nuggets of spontaneity and excitement.  A phone conversation has all sorts of risk involved. First you’ve got to get her to answer. In college, before I had magical texts I had the 3 call rule. First call, no answer, message. Second call, no answer, message. Third call, done. She just wasn’t into me? Maybe.

Let’s jump into the head of a girl real quick,

Wow it’s really empty in here! HAHA Just kidding. But I do have an overwhelming desire for Pinkberry. Hey! My phone’s ringing. I don’t recognize that number. Telemarketer? Maybe it’s that creepy guy from the subway. Why did I give him my number? Maybe it’s that cute guy from the Starbucks? 

Do I want to talk to him now? I’ve got work to do/by Stacy is over and we about to open this bottle of wine/Dancing With Stars is on, fuck him. (Then I hit decline.)

Jill: I object to that misogynistic characterization of my gender!
Jill, get out of my blog post.
Jill: You’re being mega creepy!!!
Don’t you have some anime farm animals to draw or something?

Sorry about that. Now what do you suppose the chances of her calling back are? Guys, when has a girl ever called you back that early into a relationship? Girls, seriously. You’re just not going to do it. I don’t expect you to. Then when the guy calls again is he going to be mad you didn’t call back?  You don’t know. It’s just not the best situation. Now let’s jump back in to that sexy brain again.

Wow Stacy, I’m so glad we went out for 16 Handles instead of Pinkberry. Curse them for getting rid of peanut butter.

Jill: Women aren’t vapid!
Jill, out!

(PING sound.) I’ll look at that text later. Stacy’s more interesting. (Stacy goes outside for a smoke.) Let’s look at that message. Haha. Snookie is crazy and stupid. What a funny guy. 

And she messages back. See how low stakes that was? Timing didn’t matter. She didn’t need to be invested. She could enjoy the joke text all she wanted and if she didn’t message back, I’d be free to text her something else without it being a thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I like phone conversations. In fact, once things get going, one of the most exciting parts of the relationship is the nightly phone conversation before bed. But early on, especially first contact, it’s just obsolete.

Plus there’s something exciting about getting that PING sound. I think I’m developing a Pavlovian response.

-Big Mack Attack

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Posted by on December 7, 2011 in By Mack, Dating


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Why you gotta hate? – by Jill & Mack

The restaurant was frickin’ pretty crazy last night (as is the case on Saturdays.) I got a nine top and as I approached the table two more tables got sat. So starting out I was already in the weeds. I start taking drink orders. One women asks me a million wine questions. She wants a Barolo but doesn’t want to pay 100 bucks for one. Well that’s how much they cost! Meanwhile this dude from across the table starts gesturing me emphatically about something. He tells me he has “spliffs” waiting for the table. What the fuck is a spliff? Were they smoking? Anyway, I go back to the bar the apparently the guy ordered 6 half bottles of fucking Champagne. Really? He couldn’t have ordered 2 conventional bottles or even a magnum? I gotta open  6 little bottles at the table?

I get that underway while and take the order of another table at the same time.  I return to the 9 top and return to the woman who needs a Wine for Dummies to decide what she wants. Finally, I get her to make her choice (the cheap Barolo.) I go back to the bar, and one of the bussers comes up to me saying that table wants to order. “No shit they wanna order.” I get back with the bottles of wine in my hand and one of the women says, “We want to order, we’ve asked for you 3 times.”

“You see those six bottles of Champagne and these two bottles of wine. I had to get those. I had to back and forth to the front of the restaurant to get those. Plus your friend over there needed a Kettle One and soda right away. Now, I would be more than happy to put these down and take your order.” I’m not sure she knew how to react. The night was pretty much like that. Everyone had a birthday party, and everyone needed their check split multiple ways. That nine top split it seven ways to be exact.

And as the new girl I had to close which takes FOREVER. We got out around 1:30 am and one of our bartenders was having a birthday part next door.  I walk in and instantly some douche bags at the table behind me yells, “Hey bitch, we’re trying to watch the game. MOVE.”

What a fuckin’ night?



I get cut from work. I’m so glad I don’t have to close on Saturdays. I go  across to Woody’s  for Javier’s birthday drinks. Man, everybody’s there. That guy knows how to party. As I’m about to sit down, the chick from the table across from us says, “Hey, want a tequila shot?” What a way to start the night, right? Then she starts playing with my necklace. But she’s got a wedding ring, so I go chat with the rest of my group.

An hour or so later, the closers finally make it out of the restaurant. The new girl Jill, starts bitching about something. And I’m all like ,”Why you gotta hate?”
“Because that table is full of a bunch of dickwads!”
“That table over there?”
“Na, they’re cool, gave me a shot when I walked in.”
“Well then why don’t you go sit with them?”

I get the details about them being assholes and I figure it’s just misunderstanding. I figure, I’ll go over to the table, chat with them, make a joke or two, tell them she was offended and then they’ll apologize.

I go over.
“Hey guys, thanks for that shot earlier–”
One guy: “Yea why don’t you buy us shots?”
I realize this wasn’t such a good idea. I make a few jokes that don’t go over too well. At that point, I probably should have just left.
“Look, my friend took offense and that wasn’t cool.”
One of the guys gets out of his chair and squares up to me.
“Yea well she needed to fuckin’ move.”
I don’t back down. His friends get out of their chairs. At this point I don’t realize how over my head I’m getting.

But what I also didn’t realize was that Javier and ALL his friends were squaring up behind me. And we probably outnumbered them 3 to 1. The owner comes over and breaks it up before it gets too hot.  I sit back down but I can feel the eyes of all those guys glaring into my back. But Javier and all his crew congratulate me for sticking up for the new girl.

Meanwhile Jill is hella embarrassed.  At first she’s mad at me for making a scene. Guess she doesn’t like attention. But we end up talking over a couple of drinks. Apparently she almost never drinks.  Been doing something called Moderation Management. Also she’s looking for an apartment. I think I just figured out our roommate situation.

-Big Mack Attack

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Posted by on November 20, 2011 in By Jill, By Mack, Restaurants


It’s not Batman! — by Mack

This past weekend I was an extra in a film with the working title of Magnus RexBut everyone knew what movie it really was.  Christian Bale was 2 feet away from me. That dude has seriously perfect hair. It’s like a helmet. Joseph Gordon-Levitt was there grimacing like Clint Eastwood. I went up and shook his hand. I was like, “I’m Mack” and he was like “I’m Joe.” I wanted to scream “No fucking shit. You’re Joseph Gordon-Levitt!” But he went back to eating his bagel.

But then there was the Nolan. Tall, blonde, and black wool coated. Christopher Nolan, the director of MementoThe Dark Knight, The Prestige, Inception. And now The Da–*achem* Magnus Rex.  I can’t believe I was in his presence.

Originally, I was going to be a thug in a massive brawl scene. But due to unforeseen circumstance (Wall Street protesters) that shoot was cancelled. However, at the last minute I was called to shoot this scene as a Gothamite –er uhh…Magus Rex-ite.   So that was awesome.

Otherwise, there is this new chick at the restaurant. She’s totally into me. I trained her the other night.  When I was guiding her around my hand, she was totally responding. That’s called compliance and it’s a definite indicator of interest.

Which is really good. Because that one girl from the train stopped responding to my texts. Why give a guy out your number if you’re not going to talk to him??? I got pretty drunk last night and almost drunk texted Kelly. That woulda been bad. Ever since the break up I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster.

See it while you can.

Saw A Very Harold and Kumar 3-D Christmas with Jack the other day too.  You should definitely check it out.

–Big Mack Attack!

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Posted by on November 7, 2011 in By Mack, Reviews, entertainment, etc...


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Like a Band-Aid –by Mack



So I’ve got this kind of sixth sense for when someone’s about to break up with me. It first happened when I was dating Jenna. I was 22 and she was 18. I said I’d never date that young again but Marge is  a whole other story. We made out most of the afternoon, but at this one point, the song I was a Kaleidoscopic popped into my head. The lyrics of this one section kept repeating.

And this is when I forget to breathe,
And all the things I’ve scripted 
They sound unfounded.

And it’s the look that you’re giving me,
that tells me exactly what you are thinking
this ain’t workin’ anymore. 

I walked her home and as we’re walking she says to herself  “next tree. No, next tree.” Then she turns to me and BAM. Ends it right there.  Ever since then, I’ve taken particular notice of when songs pop into my head.

I met Kelly for coffee today. I expected her to be waiting for me. Maybe I was there early, I don’t remember. I kept looking at my hands for some reason. When did they get this hairy? Kelly and I started dating off of an internet dating site.  The attitudes of most girls profiles really piss me off. Most of them try to come off as quirky and off beat but in the exact same way as the next girl. But Kelly liked action movies.

She arrived and had been shopping. I found that odd. She’s not a big spender. Once she got settled and we got through the standard pleasantries, she segued to “I’ve meaning to talk about–”
I interrupted her mid-sentence with, “This isn’t working for me.”  I leaned back and looked at the Starbucks LCD screen. The momentary display of Eva Cassidy was my safe house.

“Excuse me?” trying to deny what she had just heard.
A list of lies fired through my head. -I just not ready for a relationship-I think we’re too different-We want different things-I think you can do better (yea I actually considered saying that one.)-

But what came out was, “I don’t want to date you anymore.” And after my eyes returned to Eva Cassidy. I got up from the table and walked to the door. There I hesitated. Keep going on check in with her? I looked back and she was sitting at the table as if I were still sitting in front of her. She hadn’t moved.

I immediately walked to a deli and bought a pack of cigarettes. This pack will be the last pack.

–Big Mack At… you get the idea.

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Posted by on October 26, 2011 in By Mack, Dating


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…and I didn’t even have to ask. –by Mack

I hate the late night MTA. Twenty-five minutes for the fuckin’ D train. Another friend’s birthday on the lower east side. Actually the East Village.  Fun bars, shitty places to get home from. When it finally comes, I immediately notice these 4 girls who look barely old enough to have breasts dressed in mega skanky outfits. I mean one of them looked she was wearing 3 or 4 pieces of interwoven lace. They get off at their stop and as they walk away some guy remarks, “Those girls know what’s up,” and the woman next to him spits back, “No they do not.” The man insists, “The Asian one sure does.”
At this time, I decide to chime in. “What is it they know?”
They guy spouts, “She knows what’s up.”
The chick looks at me with a smile and reassures me, “Don’t worry honey, we’re talking in code.”
“I figured that. Doesn’t mean I can’t ask.”
The guy bursts out, “She knows what to do in bed.”
“Uh uh, She don’t know the ski position,” correcting her friend.
“I want to be hanging out with you guys.” Then looking at her, “Particularly, you.”

The chick gives me a look over, smiles again, and inquires, “And why me?”
“Because you know the ski position.”
She laughs. Now I’m sitting on a bench that faces the center of the train. And so is the guy, but on a bench further down. The chick sits on a seat that faces the front positioned between me and him. Her back is to me, but she’s slanted over the seat conversating and what not. This is important because after a short while of fun back and forth, I notice her phone face is facing me with her digits. XXX-XXX-XXXX. I pull out my phone and dial them in. When I look up, the number is gone. In it’s place, a message, “Call Me.”

The three of us change trains as I guide them to the 1. I give her a hug, shake the guy’s hand and go home with a hopeful smile. I don’t know why, but I’ve had a thing for older women lately. As I come out of the train station I get a text. It’s Kelly again. “Can we talk on Tuesday?”


—Big Mack attack!

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Posted by on October 16, 2011 in By Mack, Dating


Cater Monkey – by Mack

Worked a cater out last night. Cater outs take everything I love about waiting tables and throws them in the garbage disposal. You set up heavy crap.  The management doesn’t know what they want. Tells you to move a bunch of stuff and in the middle of moving it, they rush over and tell you to wipe down other crap. Then the guests arrive and you’re a silent smiling monkey for the rest of the night.

Right as the party got started one of the managers told me to go buy some oven mitts. Really??? You didn’t think of that yesterday? Whatever. Gets me out of monkey mode. I used my awesome HTC Evo to find a Walgreens and walked 8 blocks. I could be in a commercial.  About 10 minutes after getting back, the manager tells me they’ve run out of skewers for the flank steak kabobs. Back to my Evo to find a grocery store. It was right next to the Walgreens. This time I take the subway. I get back and she says skewers are too big. Fuck. Turns out there is a small deli right next door to the event that sells exactly what she’s looking for.  Whoops.

Normally, I like serving people. Making jokes, telling them about the food. You know, doing shit. But when you’re a cater monkey, you aren’t even supposed to tell people to move when you’ve got arms full if their discarded half drunk cran & vodkas. I swear these rich fucks take one sip and just leave it there.

Then when the fuckers finally leave you gotta break crap down and clean. And there was sooo much booze. Good shit too. Dewards 12 year. Bombay Sapphire, Grey Goose and Grey Goose lime (really??? you need lime flavoring in your over priced vodka.) I managed to get a few shots of the 12 year.  Made the night go smoother.

I entertained myself by watching the stiff shirts go from uptight to drunk stupid. So many spills I had to clean up. To entertain myself, I’d watch the triangles people make with conversation. You really can’t have a gathering of more than 3 people. Sometimes 4, but that last person really isn’t part of what’s going on. Even with 3 the third is going to be left out somewhat. I like to watch when that left out person tries to get back into the conversation. But this one chick I couldn’t stop looking at. She was wearing pants, a sky blue blouse

like this—>         in this color –>    

but she was wearing one of those arm scarfs, like she was a queen.

 Whatever those things are called.  Anyway, she looked even more pretentious.

I got done around 1am and headed to Ellen’s birthday party. Got pretty wasted, I don’t remember much after that. But when I woke up I had a text from Kelly. “We need to talk.”  That can’t be good.

–Big Mack Attack



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Posted by on October 7, 2011 in By Mack, Restaurants