The Secret Service Sends a Surrogate

One of the Ex-cooks got involved in something very very bad.....Getting people to take counterfeit checks and send him real money. Yep, one of those crazy internet scams where the crook is buying something from you, and pays you more than they need to, and then asks you for change. Well, thank goodness this ex-cook doesn't live around here!

But part of that scam is that they have to get the counterfeit checks to send, so some kind of criminal organization exists that produces them and sends them to intermediaries, like the ex-cook, to send on to the victims. So the idiot ex-cook has a shipment of these checks sent to the Roadhouse, then calls and tells us there is some stuff that we need to send along to him.

The ex-cook (whom you may remember as getting locked in the cooler over the Cody Special) was arrested about the time the package arrived. When I found out the reason for the arrest, I knew it was probably a package of counterfeit checks.

I called the arresting police officer. He was non-committal about the package.... said he would get back to me. Over the weekend, the cooks face showed up on the front page of the state's biggest newspaper. I am sure the arresting officer was having fun with the media and couldn't bother about evidence. After four days and a box of counterfeit checks just laying around here, I started thinking it was sloppy investigative procedure. If there was any evidence in the package or leads to the sender, the trail was growing cold. I finally called the State Police to see if they would take it off our hands. The State Police recommended mailing it to the arresting officer. Right... like pay out my hard earned tips to send them something that is really none of my concern!!!! Take time out of my day to drive 50 miles to the post office!!! Don't they get paid to take care of things like this?

I looked at the newspaper article again. The Secret Service is involved. Is there a public phone number for the Secret Service? Hey, there is.... I got the right officer right away. Yes, he would drive the 400 miles to pick it up. No problem. Well, then practicality must have taken hold of him and he called one of his buddies in the FBI that are in NW New Mexico. When the Roadhouse opened then next morning the FBI agent was waiting outside to pick up the evidence. That is almost enough to make us feel really important.

The Celebrity Waitress Program

I've been training the Celebrity Waitresses as they come in. Today I am training Lucy, from Bristol in England. Of course the oil field men give nice tips to good looking women with foreign accents. Even the the men that have to ask for translation services from the local staff leave five dollar bills in the Celebrity Waitresses tip jar.

Thanks to the Self-Service Customers

Last night I had locked up and was sweeping the floor, anxious to get home, when Scooter drove into the parking lot. At the end of the day I usually have a few left over burgers in the hot case that I take pleasure in giving away, so I was happy to unlock the door and let Scooter in. He bought a soda and took a bacon cheeseburger for his ride home.

I finished sweeping, put some new paper in the bathrooms, and counted down the cash in the register, leaving $150 to start the morning. John finished cleaning the grill, sweeping the floor, and we jumped in the car to get to the bank and make some deposits. I went into the hardware store to get some glue to fix the womens toilet and John went to the grocery store to pick up tortillas and cheese. It looked like we would get home well before dark, with a good days work under our belts.

Then the cell phone rang.

It was Fidel Candelaria. The door of the Roadhouse was wide open. They had called the State Police. He was there. We turned a sharp u-turn and headed back down the Largo towards the highway. I realized that I hadn't re-locked the door behind Scooter. For some reason we didn't worry too much even though the last months inventory build up and the register were at stake. We were prepared for what ever we found.

Two police officers and Fidel were sitting at the counter chatting when I bounded in the front door. There was a little pile of money on the counter near the cash register. A note on a napkin around a couple of dollars read "2 packs of dentyne". The $150 was still in the register and the self-service customers had left $11 to pay for their purchases. It had been at least 2 hours between when we left and when the place was secured by Fidel. It kind of restored my faith in the world.

Thanks unknown customers!

Good Buddy, Sad Story

Dear Rita,
We went down to Largo last night to get a new wood stove to put in up
here at the City. We are trying to not run out of propane up here since we
don't really have the spare change to fill up the propane tank again. When we
were loading our gear into the truck to head south, Joe Smith came
walking around the corner. Totally drunk and looking for some shelter from his life.....

We took him down to Largo with us. Lylbun was there taking care of the
critters for us. We pulled the new wood stove out of the guest wing
and replaced it with the Franklin that was on the front porch. Joe
built a big fire in it and slept on the couch with Chica and Lylbuns
dog, Julie. This morning he was sober enough to want to go back home
and try to salvage his life.... all his kids are off living with their
other parents. He might pull it off, but crushing debt and a very
materialistic ambitious wife are not good things in a tough economy. When an alcoholic is looking for an excuse to drink, it doesn't take much, does it?

We dropped him off in Blanco at 5:30 this morning and zoomed up Manzanares
pass back into the snowy landscape of Navajo City. There is no snow
down at Largo and even the mud has dried up, so the two places seem
like they are on different planets. In a way, it's nice to know that
other people would see our space as a place of refuge from the rest of
the world. But of course we know better.

Those days of warmth really whet your appetite for spring. Time to
peruse the seed catalogs.
Yrs,
Patricia
ps. I called Joe a couple of times later, but he's not returning his calls. It doesn't bode well for his sobriety.