Omar Frazier's blog

I Love Starbucks

 Starbucks. The smell of coffee, the soft music, and the sound of the espresso machine being used. Since I've moved to Miami Beach, you can call me a regular patron of Starbucks. Their are a lot of Starbucks coffee shops near my apartment. The one on Alton Rd. three on Lincoln road, and the one I love, West ave. The Bartistas know my name and I know theirs. As I walk in to Starbucks coffee shop on West ave and 10th, I take a look at the advertising of coffee for $1.50. YES! Seeing this economy, finally some one at Starbucks understood that their coffee was too high. But, the Bartistas, Warner, Alton, and Earleen, already know what I came for. TALL CREAM PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE! AHHH Heaven! Or something like it for the 10 or 15 mintues that it takes me to devour it. Sometimes I may get a tall Strawberries & Cream, Apple Cinnamin Spice, or a tall coffee. But, its usually a Pumpkin Spice Latte with cream, and tall that is. As I stand in line, I have conversations with the other regs in line. Like Robert, Edgar, Able, Michael the Yoga teacher, Shay, John the publisher, and Scott. 

In California, when I visited Starbucks in Downey, the one by the Stonewood Mall, I did not know the Bartistas nor the patrons names. When people went into that Starbucks they really weren't talking about stocks and bonds, work, business, or the news. They at times, didnt care who you were. There is a ton a business men/women, actors/actress, police officers, students, news reporters, yoga teachers, artists, entreprenuers, and the like, that come into West ave.'s Starbucks. Most of us know each other, most of us don't. But we treat everyone the same. Especially if your talking about money. lol...

I sit at Starbucks between 15 minutes - 4 hours, if not more, a day. I mean, besides the wood chairs, that annoy me, because I have a lower back problem, (They do have other comfortable chairs, but not many. Get there early.) its convienant for me also because Starbucks is right across the street from my apartment. Later guys I am heading to Starbucks, I can smell the coffee now. 

Just A Thought

I am so tired of my back injury. The pain is unbearable. How many times do I need to visit the hospital for them to tell me the same thing? Its hard on me mentally. It is driving me crazy. I am never relaxed. People tell me that I need to get some rest, but how can anyone rest when its hard to sleep. My disc and pelvis area pops, throbs and feels tight constantly. All night I toss and turn. Usually, every night, I only get about 3-5 hours of sleep...if that. All the doctors do is prescribe meds. When I take the meds it makes me feel weird. Dizzy, uncomfortable, irritated, unhappy. Since my injury, I stopped working as hard as before. Even the simple task of walking hurts. But, when you lost your car because your no longer working, all you can do is walk. Walking allows me time to think. Yeah, I have family with cars, I just dont want to bother them. When I finish my walk, I am in extreme pain. Walking with a cane slows me down, and I hate the attention that I get. Friends and some family have told me that I should try Yoga. Yoga is not free. Therapy wasn't and isn't free either. Its a depressing thing. All I want to do is sleep. Or just stay in bed all day and night. My hospital bills are so high! My lawyers call me everyday trying to get me to settle. I think all they are thinking about is themselves. They want their money. Shit I do too. Most of all I want my back to feel better.

How To be an Effective Owner/Manager

I have worked at a few different places in different industries since I started working at the age of 16 years old. From Restuarants to Wholesale Groceries Stores to being a Marketer for clothing lines. Of all my past experiences, the Restuarant industy has been the craziest in dealing with Owners/Managers. It is a hectic industry to start or to be involved with I must admit. But, it is a lot harder when dealing with an Owner/Manager who can be anal every day.

So, what do I think makes an Owner/Manager anal? One who doesn't know how to communicate with their staff effectively. Like at the place I work at now. Wow. It is hard not to walk out some days. I am suprised that he still has employees still working for him or that the restuarant is still open. Not a day goes by that the Staff or a Staff member isn't getting yelled at, or fired. The turn over rate is rediculous. Since working there this past month, I have seen new people who get hired on a daily basis. This is bad when, the restuarant here in South Beach has only been open less than 12 months. But, I guess due to the economic times we are in, everyone is looking for a job. This past Saturday, a women was fired for not putting Onion Marmalade in our sandwiches. When she tried to explain that there were none to put into the sandwiches, the Owner did not want to hear it. I felt so bad for the older lady. Maybe they already wanted to fire her. Yesterday, the chef was yelled at for putting too much salad in a salad dish. There is always something going on at the restuarant.

What could change? What could change is, the respect from the top tier to the bottom tier. Less yelling and more communicating. No one wants to work for a place that they are always walking on egg shells. People work better if there is less yelling. It always makes me upset to hear Owners/Managers yell or curse when things are bad, but never give compliments when things are good.

Just to let you know. It is not all the managers of restuarants or businesses who work this way. Usually its the Owners. They are tease at all times. Who knows how their financial matters are. Are they on drugs??? The Owners, like to critisize but not compliment. This can be a BIG problem. As soon as we see the Owner, we quiet down, and get nervous. We think to ourselves, what is about to happen? Working in these conditions or under these conditions is not healthy.

Do you have issues at your job???

TIme To Get It Together

 It is about time that we all must get ourselves together. So what it the problem and why must we get ourselves together? Well, a lot of us are not true to who we are. By this I am saying, we are acting rich, while being poor. Or like my friend Dale Berry says, "in-between blessings." A lot of people are out every night, whether partying or having a drink, having a cup every day at Starbucks, or taking a taxi when they can walk. Just living beyond their means. In these economic times we need to save and live below our means in order to have in the future. We have this misconceptions on how "Rich" people live. So we buy expensive wine, food, clothes, cars, etc. But, if we take  closer look at the whole picture, we will see that "Rich" people do not live like that. I personally have seen "Rich" people with the same shoes for years, drive Hondas, Toyotas (Maybe not now, with the brake peoblem they are having), Acuras, or even, some that I have seen only ride bikes. People in these times want to be like someone that they are nowhere like.

 So should we just stay home, and not buy anything at all? NO. What I am saying is that, we must monitor what we do buy and where we go. It has always been funny to me to see these girls/guys with the latest fashion, nice cars, etc., but they have a hard time paying for that car, paying their rent, and/or do not have a job. The reason that people are like this is because they are not happy with themselves. Now, if you can do it that way, and can still survive, then by all means do you. This is not for you.This is for the ones that wish they were where you are, and are pretending to be.

Real Life Experiences (Part One)

We were lost. Trying to find our way, we left the West Coast. Me, Paco, Baldy,Tim and Old Man.  All five of us were on the highway to Kansas. We were young. Ambitious. Best of all, we all had a skill, and we knew how to put it together to work for the better cause. The better cause being, rich with money. Or so we thought.

Paco was the enforcer. He loved to fight. He could be wild at times. One time we were in Las Vegas and Paco beat up the Promoter real bad for not letting us in the club. That was a wild night! The homie Baldy was just down for the cause. He still needed to grow up. He relied on his father for everything. Tim did not know what he wanted to be or do. But, he was in college. He was just going to transfer to the local Junior College where we were going to live. Old Man, that is my cousin. We did not start to hang out until after high school. That's when I first met him. His mom and my mom are cousins, and really couldn't stand each other. We met at our aunts' birthday party. We had a lot in common. Old Man moved to Kansas two years prior from us going on this trip. We call him Old Man because he, is the youngest of us five, but "acts" like he is the oldest. He has a good job. He works as a bus driver for the city that he lives in. He has an apartment there too, so we are moving in with him. My name, well thats not that important right now. But, I will tell you my skill. I'm the one with the "Gift to Grap them!" Or the gift to gab. I was the one who could walk in the room all by myself and get all the attention. I can work the crowd. "Stop all that day-dreaming shit. Writing in journals is gay blood!" said Paco. "Plus, your driving next, so get some rest."

Paco did not understand, I could not sleep. And with Tims' snoring, how could I.  So I just kept writing. I love road trips. The different people that you meet on the road. Like the Indian lady in New Mexico that tried to offer me her daughter. Her daughter was about 17 years old. I am 19 years old. Later that night we stopped at a Truck Stop off highway 40 to get gas and some blunts. The lady at the counter said she did not know what blunts were. "Our damn luck" said Tim. Tim loved to smoke weed. Maybe a little too much. One time we went to Hanford to visit some of my family, and he got so high that night with one of my cousins. My cousin and Tim clicked immediately. They went to hang with some girls that night and Tim left his phone in my car, and I did not find him until 2 days later. Now that we look back at what happened, we laugh.  "Fuck it, I have one more rolled" I said. Off into the night we went.

It was my turn to drive. "We have been making good progress," I thought to myself. Just a few more hours to go and we should be in Texas. It started raining and the roads started to be less visible. I was straining my eyes to see even ten feet ahead of me. So I slowed down a lot. A cop followed us for a few miles, I woke up the boys and told them. Tim like aways, reacted too fast and looked towards the back of the truck we were driving. The red and blues lights and the loud sound of the police siren come on. I pulled over. We looked around and noticed that we were the only car on the highway. "Where you niggers going?" said the officer. We must have thought the same thing, because no one said a word. I just handed the officer my licence and the insurance papers. The officer asked me, "What was that for." The officer said that he wanted us to get out of the car.

We got out with fear on our faces. I told everyone that I will handlle this. "Officer, what is this all about?" I said. "You being in my town," he said. He did not ask for our consent, but he searched our car anyways. We knew how to hide what we had so he did not find anything. I told the officer we were going to college and thats why we were passing by. He checked our Ids, then let us go. "You niggers better get out of here. We don't like your kind here." The tall, white, and country officer said. I told everyone to get in the car. As we got in, he honked a us, as if telling us we were not moving fast enough.

For about an hour, no one in the car said a word. Baldy said the first word. "I wanted to knock that cracker out." he said. But, Paco barked back. "You wasn't going to do shit!" Old Man told us them come down. I still had that rolled blunt, so I lit it up.

Finally we arrived in Oklahoma. It was mid day and the sun was out. It had to be about 90 degrees and the humidity was high. We all had our shirt off and we were sweating. I called an older friend Omar and told him what had happen the night before. He said that he could not imagine what we went through.

Part two coming soon...

 

 

THE KEY

  THE KEY TO MY HEART IS NOT YOUR BEAUTY. THE KEY TO MY HEART IS NOT YOUR BOOTY. THE KEY TO MY HEART MAY NOT SEEM PLAIN. THE KEY TO MY HEART, MAY BRING YOU PAIN. THE KEY TO MY HEART MAY NOT ALWAYS WORK. GETTING THE KEY TO MY HEART MAY SEEM LIKE HARD WORK. I THINK I THINK, THERFORE I AM. I NEED A WOMAN WHO UNDERSTANDS THIS MAN AND ALL THAT HE HAS PLANNED. I NEED NOT A WOMAN WHO HAS THE KEY, TO ASK, IF SHE IS THE ONE WITH THE KEY.THE KEY HAS NO COPIES, THERE IS ONLY BUT ONE KEY. BUT HAVING THE KEY ALONE, WILL NOT GET YOU ME. THE KEY ONLY MEANS THAT YOU HAVE GOTTEN CLOSER TO ME. MY HEART FROM ALL THE PAIN, HAS RIDGES LIKE A KEY. ONE OF THE THINGS THAT I NEED, IS THE WOMAN WITH THE KEY, TO UNDERSTAND ME. GETTING THE KEY WON'T BE SIMPLE AT FIRST. THE APPLICATION PROCESS MAY SEEM HARD AND LONG. BUT WITH PATINCE, HARD WORK, AND THIS KEY, THIS HEART CAN BE YOUR HOME. NOW THAT YOU HAVE THIS KEY, TO THIS HEART, AND NOW YOU ARE MY QUEEN, WHAT WOULD IT TAKE TO HAVE YOUR KEY TO YOUR THRONE MY BEAUTIFUL QUEEN?