The increasingly poor decisions of Greg Colica.
Chapter One. He was as tough and romantic as the city he loved. Behind his black-rimmed glasses was the coiled sexual power of a jungle cat. Oh, I love this. New York was his town, and it always would be.
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Going back to the restaurant today was so aggravating - of course the day began disastrous as the crew decided to come an hour late while a party of 20 children were waiting outside in the cold, with me.
The day before was so perfect. I was exactly where I always wanted to be doing what I’ve always wanted to do…and it was all over too quickly. However it was just one day, kinda like the first ten minutes of Raiders - the Idol, or the job, was in my hands. I survived the day without a scratch, only to have it taken back. It’s like a tease, you know? But I’m staying positive. I did my very best and I know that didn’t go unnoticed.
Something good is coming - hopefully sooner than later, because I cannot stand that fucking pathetic excuse for a restaurant anymore.
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