Monday, August 28, 2006
The service for Bernadette was at a pretty big church and, just
as I expected, hundreds of people came. There were so many
that they had to bring extra chairs in the back, and still that
wasn't enough and people were standing along the walls. I
saw many people I worked with, many more that I didn't know, and
quite a few that used to work at my casino (who heard
about her death through friends or the media) that I had either
never met before or hadn't seen in a long time. It was
bittersweet to meet and reunite with them under such tragic
circumstances. It must have been overwhelming to her
family, because it certainly was to me, that so many people were
there. And I'm sure many more would have been there but
couldn't make it because of work or having moved out of state,
or whatever. Bernadette was no celebrity, she was just a
cocktail waitress, just a girl, just another person who lived
her life being true to herself, and yet she was able to touch
hundreds of people who chose to spend an entire day remembering
her, crying for her, and thanking her for being a part of their
lives. I mean, using myself as an example...being a lazy
misanthropic atheist, the last thing I wanted to do was get up
at 7 AM so I could get ready and leave early enough to fight
rush hour traffic and road construction and drive all the way
across town (of course it had to be on the exact opposite side
of Vegas from where I live) where I knew I would get lost (which
I did, even though I have a very reliable Garmin GPS navigation
system) and search for a parking space and sit through a couple
hours of church sermons with a bunch of people I didn't know and
cry my eyes out. I'm actually being quite serious when I
say that I had to force myself to go. When I got to the
church I was lucky to be early enough to find a parking space,
no problem, and a seat next to one of my closest friends.
After the service everyone mingled for awhile and when I was
asked if I was going to the reception I told some people yes and
some people no, knowing that I probably would not go. I
actually got in my car and sat for about fifteen minutes talking
out loud, trying to convince myself to go. And as I
started my car I said, "Damn you, Bernadette! It's only
because I love you so much that I'm doing this." So I
entered the address of the second church on my GPS and of course
I still got lost. After circling the block three times I
finally found the church where, after visiting with my friends
for about half an hour, I forced myself to approach Bernadette's
family for the first time. I still made my friends come
with me because I was scared. All I could think to say
was, "I'm so sorry about Bernie." You would think that
would be consoling, but I just made her husband burst into
tears. I never met the guy before and I made him cry.
I couldn't hug him because that would be entirely inappropriate
since I didn't know him, and obviously there was nothing else to
say. So I just stood there with my friends while one of
them, who did know him, hugged him. We all left soon after
to fight rush hour traffic and road construction all the way
home. But I am glad I went. Like they say, the
funeral is not for the dead but for the living. I know
that people die every day and many in much more horrendous ways,
and a lot of them are not fortunate enough to have lived such a
happy life surrounded by people who loved them, and who don't
have anyone to grieve their deaths. So yes, she was lucky
to have been her, and we are lucky to have known her. It's
hard to refer to her in the past tense, but acceptance is
finally making its way through. Every once in awhile I
refuse to believe it, but that's my problem, and reality still
stands. And I know many of you reading this may be going
through deaths of your loved ones too, so you know what I'm
talking about. Thanks so much for your kind e-mails, you
guys are the best.
Bernadette at 17. How beautiful was
she? I don't believe in angels, but this is what an angel
on earth looks like.
The front and back cover of the church
program.
I deleted most of the names on here and left
only what is already public knowledge. Near the end of the
service they played "Amazing Grace" sung by Bernadette.
People who had been able to hold their composures for two hours
broke down in tears. A funeral is like...a loony bin...you
are given free rein to show whatever emotion comes to you.
People laughed, cried, prayed, sang, and there were no smooth
transitions. Me, I was either crying or in a catatonic
state of shock.
(Update: November 1, 2006)
Bernadette's cousin-in-law, Michelle (Bernadette's husband's
cousin) e-mailed me a few days after the service because she had
found my web site by accident when searching for information on
Bernadette on the Internet. She told me how much she
appreciated my tribute, and after we exchanged a few e-mails she
said she would like to meet and share stories and memories,
because I was the first person she knew outside the immediate
family who loved Bernadette as much as she did. After a
couple weeks of trying to coordinate our schedules we finally
did meet for dinner and we talked, and cried, and talked some
more, and our food was left cold and barely eaten, but it was
great. She brought pictures and the poem that she had read
at the service, a poem that is filled with memories of her best
friend; the one who spent every Tuesday evening with her, the
one who was there when her son, Kyle, was born three years ago,
and the one who brought her to God and kept her faith unwavering
even through this tragedy, the hardest test she could possibly
go through. For me, I find it ironic that Bernadette
brought Michelle and me together, yet it's her absence that
caused us to have a connection and form such a great friendship.
She really does live on.
At the front of the church, there were tons
of flowers and framed pictures of Bernadette. I took these
pictures
after the service was over, but when I first got there, and
throughout the service, there were two big screens on the wall
and a couple monitors that had a slideshow of Bernadette doing
the things she loved, like singing, dancing, hanging out with
friends at restaurants, posing with babies that were probably
nieces and/or nephews, making silly faces, and as a baby and
growing up, and at her wedding, and many of her just with her
husband and other family members and friends.
This was a very interesting and creative
setup. There was a long table filled with Bernadette's
favorite things and other mementos that represented her life.
When I first walked through I just broke down and wept.
Looking at it right now is hard. But after the service I
was able to take my time and even shared laughs with my friends
as we pointed at things and said, "Oh yeah...that is SO
Bernadette!" The hair products got the most laughs.
The pastor even made a joke that there were probably several
hairdressers in attendance because she loved being wild and
crazy with her hair, but always stylish and fun. You can
see her nametag here, and right above her
name, written in red caps, it says "Broadway Star" and there's a
red star above that. That means she was nominated by her
co-workers as a star employee. Other things shown here are
the ticket stubs to the employee talent show, her sunglasses,
scented lotion, candy, a shirt, and I'm not sure if that's a
garter or not on it, her CD's (I didn't look through because I
didn't want to touch anything), and of course the hair sprays,
dyes, and swatches.
The things that were obviously the most
important in her life are in the center: her wedding ring,
Bible, and a picture with her husband facing the world together at the top
of a mountain, and one red rose representing their love.
Other things here are her watch, body sprays and lotion, and her
makeup.
The other thing that got some smiles was the
Starbucks. And that's exactly how it would look, with her
name written on it in black Sharpie. I can still hear her
say, "I'm going to Starbucks, anyone want anything?" I
would always say no because I hate coffee, to which she would
always say, "You sure?" (The only time I get something is
during Christmas because they have that hot apple cider thing
with hot caramel drizzled all around...mmm! And our
managers always get it for us for free, because our managers
rock. But don't tell anyone.) There's Ghirardelli
chocolate, which I didn't know she liked, and other stuff here
that I'm not sure of, like I think that's red wine, and it looks
like a cereal bowl with a book in it, although I don't know what
it is and I can't make out the name due to my stellar
photography skills. There's a silly picture of her lying
on the floor, looking up underneath a Christmas tree with
someone else. There's a piece of paper next to it and I
don't know what it is, and a glass with what looked like water,
and a bunch of limes. I guess she really liked limes.
(Bernadette's cousin-in-law, Michelle, e-mailed me to tell me
that the cereal bowl belongs to her son, Kyle, and Bernadette
used his bowl every time she ate Ben & Jerry's Heath Bar ice
cream. Michelle and her sister were best friends with
Bernadette.)
This is the other side of the table with a
beautiful painting of her, and tons more flowers behind.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
A very dear
friend died today, and I need to pay tribute to her. Her
name is Bernadette Vander Meer, and she was a cocktail waitress.
I have cried buckets of tears for her and there are still plenty
more to come. She was hiking with her husband at Angels
Landing in Zion National Park when she fell 1200 feet off a
cliff. I am just completely horrified and in shock, and I
still can't believe she's dead. There are several news
stories about the accident, here is a link to one of them
http://www.thespectrum.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060823/NEWS01/608230308/1002.
This is a link to her obituary
http://www.reviewjournal.com/obituaries/individual_display.jsp?obitID=4846746.
(I don't know how long the links will be good.) Bernadette
was quite possibly one of the nicest, most decent people I have
ever known. She was one of very few cocktail waitresses
who never gossiped about others, and that is a quality
very hard to come by in anyone, period. In the three years
I have worked with her I never, ever saw her have a bad attitude
or lose her temper. She was a very devout Christian and
she really lived her life as one. I had several talks with
her about religion and what I loved about her was that, unlike
most people who have religious beliefs, I was actually
interested in what she had to say because she spoke
intelligently and never preached or became defensive, which is
an easy thing to do when talking about emotionally-charged
topics. And she was fun. I never felt I had to tone
down my humor or language around her (not that I would anyway).
She laughed easily and was just full of life! Maybe she
was laughing at me instead of with me, but who cares. I
can still hear her laugh, so soft and pretty, just like her
speaking voice. She didn't have a judgmental bone in her
body and she just went with the flow. Her face was
absolutely beautiful and her makeup was always perfect.
Classy and poised, that's what she was. She worked
graveyard for years and she never came in looking tired or like
she just rolled out of bed or complaining about traffic or lack
of sleep or anything. Her hair was dyed red with a purple
tint and it was cut in such a cute and hip style. And she
had a nose ring, which I found so appealing. Along with
her unique hair, it added just a little bit of a wild child
aspect to her otherwise church girl image. And she was one
of the girls I talked about who tried out for American Idol
but didn't make the first cuts. She did place second
in our employee talent show last year (we didn't have one this
year) and she was fucking awesome. She sang "Miss
Independent" and her voice was so strong that if Simon had heard
it he would have sent her to Hollywood. (The first place
winner was also a cocktail waitress who auditioned and didn't
make American Idol, and the third place winner was,
surprise, also a cocktail waitress.) She was Betty Boop at
the MGM years ago when they had the theme park, and even though
I didn't know her then, I could totally picture her dressed up
and boop-boop-de-booping around. She was just such a great
person. I loved the girl. And apparently so does
everyone else. My food and beverage department created a
flyer to pass out to the entire casino, and they will also be
supplying everything for the reception. The Voice
Foundation, which is a charity fund that my casino is a
part of, has paid for much of the funeral expenses. My
bosses have also really stepped up and personally asked every
beverage employee if they want the day off to attend the
services, and any employee who wants to, or needs to, work that
day has offered to come in earlier and stay later to help cover
the casino. How awesome is it that everyone is doing
whatever they can to help?
Here is my eulogy in its
entirety:
My
friend Bernadette died on Tuesday in a hiking accident.
I’m told she was a hiking enthusiast, so I take comfort
in knowing that at least her last moments were spent
doing something she loved. However, I’m also incredibly
saddened and shocked that someone so young and vibrant,
so beautiful in every sense of the word, was taken away
from me, and this world. I knew Bernadette mainly
through work, although we occasionally talked on the
phone. She was always professional and friendly to both
employees and customers, and she was kind and fair to
everyone. I know these are things people expect to hear
about someone who has passed away, but in her case, it’s
true. I remember so many things about her…her beautiful
face that always looked so fresh and had a smile (even
on graveyard!); her hair that was so unique, full of
color and style and life, and just a little bit
mischievous, just like she was; her easy acceptance and
enjoyment of my humor no matter how obnoxious I was; the
time we saw Zumanity together and we laughed at the same
things, and liked and disliked the same things; when she
sang at the talent show – god, that girl had talent!
And other memories that were so insignificant are now
suddenly precious yet fleeting, and I’m desperately
trying to remember everything because I can’t accept
that she’s gone, that I will never see her again. I’m
heartbroken, devastated, and angry, and I don’t
understand any of it.
Bernadette, my heart will always have tears for you
because I miss you and I love you. Goodbye, my dear
friend…may you rest in peace.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Shift: 7 PM - 3 AM
Station: Breaker
I was breaking the high limit slot area and I went around asking
the few players if they wanted anything to drink. Everyone
said no. As I was about to leave this guy came in, holding
a beer, and looking at the machines as if he was trying to
decide which one to play. He was tall, white, old, dressed
in ratty-ass clothes, and had about twenty years' worth of gray,
matted hair on his head and face. I figured he was a
homeless guy, probably looking for a nickel machine so he could
pretend to play to get free beers; he had a ten dollar bill in
his other hand as if he was about to put it in a machine any
minute. I was bored since it was a slow night, so I walked
up to him and said, "Would you like another beer?" He
looked kind of surprised, like he didn't expect me to offer him
a drink. He said, "Uh, yeah. I'll take another one
of these." And he held his beer up to show me what brand
it was. So I went to the bar and said, "I need a Heineken
for my high roller homeless guy." When I came back the man
was still walking around, the beer and money still in his hands.
I said, "Here's your beer." He said, "Thank you."
And he handed me the ten dollars. I was a bit confused at
this point. But I thought, he's going to play the game of
How much is the beer? Oh, it's free? (take the
money back and put in his pocket) Thanks! So I
said, "Do you need change?" He said, "No. Thanks."
Now I really was confused. I stood there for a second,
then said, "Thank you very much." And went back to the
bar. I said, "I just got ten bucks from that homeless
guy." There were two other waitresses in there, and one of
them said, "Oh, is it the old man who drinks Heineken?" I
said, "Yes - that's him!" She said, "He's always ten
bucks. And he's really nice too." The other waitress
said, "He comes in here all the time. I think he's one of
those closet millionaires." I said, "Well, he didn't stink
or anything, so maybe he just needs a good makeover."
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Shift: 6 PM - 2 AM
Station: Pit
There were a couple of girls at a slot machine sniffing each
other. They weren't smelling each other's crotches or
anything, but it was still kinda weird. One had her face
full on in the other girl's hair (head hair, just to be clear);
it was buried in it. Then the other girl returned the
favor. I assumed they were drunk; I hoped they were.
One of the cocktail waitresses kept telling
us that there was a guy in her pit that was that famous guy that
that woman fucked when he was eleven. We were like,
"What?" She said, "You know, that teacher that had sex
with her student, then went to jail, then she got out and they
got married." I said, "You mean Mary Kay Letourneau?"
She said, "Yeah. Her husband is in my pit." I said,
"How do you know it's him?" She said, "Because. The
pit bosses checked up his name and it's him." I said,
"What's his name?" She said, "I don't know!" Yeah,
uh-huh. Not that it would be a big deal but it was just
stupid. Anyway, later on two guys and a girl started
playing at my craps table. After a couple rounds I started
thinking, hmmm, one of the guys looked like Mary Kay's husband.
I had seen them on an interview on Dateline NBC recently,
and it really did look like him; this must have been the guy the
other waitress was talking about. So after a couple more
rounds I said to him, "I have to ask you something." His
friend said, "Yes, it's him!" The guy started laughing and
said, "I know what you're going to ask, but go ahead." I
said, "Everyone wants to know if you're Mary Kay Letourneau's
husband." Instead of answering, he said, "Hi, my name is
Vili." He stuck out his hand, and as I shook it I said,
"So...is that a yes?" He laughed and said, "Yes! I
mean, no. That's the guy's name, but I'm not him." I
was still suspicious. I mean, I could understand if he
didn't want people to know since he probably gets a lot of shit.
So I said, "Are you sure you're not him?" He said, "That
guy's younger than me, so really, I don't look like
him, he looks like me." I shrugged and said,
"OK. But it's actually a compliment for you, because that
means you look young, and you bagged a babe when you were
eleven." (I think he was actually thirteen.) He
said, "Yeah, that's true." I said, "Do a lot of people
mistake you for him?" He said, "Let's put it this way.
I work for DHL and I make probably sixty stops a day. I
get asked at every stop if I'm him. But I live in
California, and they're in Washington."
On my way home I was at the usual stoplight
and I saw the bum sitting on his backpack. But tonight he
was doing something interesting. He was reading The Bible.
I was the first car at the stoplight, right next to him, and
since this light had just turned red and takes forever to turn
green, I was able to observe his entire act. It was dark,
so he made a big show of trying to flick on his lighter.
He finally got it to stay lit, and he held it close to, but not
so close as to burn, the precious Holy Scriptures. He
squinted and stared intently, mesmerized and moved by God's
message. Finally he let the light go out, closed The Good
Book, and let his head bow for a moment of reflection.
Then he slowly lifted his head and got to his feet with a look
of a renewed man. He still had The Bible in his hand, but
he also remembered to pick up his HOMELESS VET GOD BLESS sign.
I guess he wasn't offering to WORK FOR FOOD this time.
Anyway, I was very impressed with his choreography and use of
props. When he looked at me I gave him a not bad
smile and nodded, and I made little applauding motions. He
smiled, waved and, recognizing me to be a regular stiff, moved
on down the line.
Saturday. August 5, 2006
I love love love Olivia Newton-John! My friend, Wendy, and
I saw her in concert at Buffalo Bill's Resort & Casino in Primm,
NV, which is on I-15 at the state line near California.
I had waited my whole life to see Olivia, my country girl, my
Sandra Dee, my Kira....the one who married that hottie Matt
Lattanzi, who turned out to be an asshole...the one whose
boyfriend faked his own death to avoid paying child support
(fucker). But I digress. I couldn't believe I was
finally seeing my Olivia in person!
When she came out for her encore the fans rushed the stage.
Or I should say, the real fans. I couldn't believe
the old fogies who just sat there the entire show, not tapping
their feet, not singing along, not even smiling. Damn, I
thought it was visiting day at the rest home. Anyway,
she's singing I Honestly Love You here. She sang
another song after that, but I don't know what it was because I
was peeing my pants. Plus Wendy dropped her camera, which
broke in a thousand pieces, and everyone glared at us, annoyed
at the interruption.
I think I was screaming, "Olivia, I honestly love you!" or
something equally clever.
OK, so the picture on the left shows her coming around to shake
hands and give the healing touch to her adoring fans, just like
Jesus did. And who gave her those flowers, you ask?
Why, Wendy and me, of course! We were the only ones who
brought her flowers (besides a guy who gave her some in the
middle of the concert and she set them on the piano). Yep.
We stopped at Smith's and I bought her that single red rose for
$3.99. Wendy spent two dollars more for the bigger
bouquet...whoop-de-doo, like Olivia's gonna like her better or
something.
Yeah, show everyone the flowers we got you! You know who
your biggest fans are! I mean, your biggest fan - me me
me!
Love you Olivia, I honestly do!!!
Tuesday, August 1, 2006
Shift: 12 PM - 8 PM
Station: Pit
When I was dropping off drinks at one of my tables an Asian lady
sitting on the end yelled at me, "Hello! HELLO HELLO
HELLO!" Since I was in the middle of giving someone
his drink and he was tipping me, I ignored her while I said,
"Thank you," to him. The fact that I was just there
taking orders, and I had specifically asked her if she wanted a
drink, and she specifically said no, only added to my
irritation. I understand that people change their minds,
but she was acting as if I had ignored her to begin with.
If she wanted something now she could have waited until I was
finished handing drinks to the other customers, and said
something like, "I'm sorry, I do want a drink now, can I get a
(whatever)?" You know, act like a semi-decent human being.
But no. Here she was, screaming hellos at me in her loud,
obnoxious voice. So when I was done, unhurriedly, giving
everyone their drinks I said to her, "What can I get for you?"
She said, "I want a bottled water." I said, "Sure."
I went back to the bar and bitched at everyone about her.
Since I wasn't very busy I came back with her bottled water
right away and she tipped me a dollar. As I was still
standing there, another cocktail waitress walked up and told me
that the security guards found some kids by one of the shops and
they didn't know where their parents were. One of the
guards took the two older kids, probably around seven and ten
years old, to go look for the parents. The two younger
kids were waiting at the security booth. She asked if I
wanted to go with her to bring them some water and comfort them.
I said, "Of course." When we got there I saw a very young
boy, probably three, and he was holding his younger sister, who
couldn't have been more than a year and a half. There was
a stroller next to them but the little girl didn't want to let
go of her brother, and he was having a hard time holding her
because she was too heavy for him. The other waitress
asked the boy if she could hold his sister. He nodded so
she picked up the girl, who immediately started crying and held
her hands out toward her brother. He took her back, and I
could see tears starting to well up in his eyes, but he was
being so brave, trying not to cry. The waitress left
because she had an order to take out. I knelt down next to
him and said, "Do you know where your mommy and daddy are?"
He just shook his head. He didn't say anything; didn't
even look at me. I could tell he was scared to death.
He was struggling to hold his sister, who at this point was
really wailing. I wanted to just pick them both up and
hold them close; tell them everything would be all right.
But I knew that would just scare them. I was at a total
loss at what to do, so I just stayed there, feeling like shit.
Who the fuck would just leave their kids like that? Well,
I had my answer at that moment. I looked up to see the
mother - that same ignorant rude-ass obnoxious fucking Asian
lady who had yelled at me in my pit - followed by two boys and a
security guard. She walked up talking on her cell phone,
and she didn't even comfort her kids. The young boy
continued holding the crying baby and the two older boys just
stood there. I gave them the waters I had brought and I
asked the security guard what would happen to her. He
said, "Nothing." I said, "Are you kidding me? She's
not going to be arrested?" He said, "No, but she should
be." I was completely disgusted. I wanted to throw
her dollar back at her and tell her to buy some responsibility,
some mothering skills, some fucking common sense. How can
someone just leave their kids so they can go gamble? For
any reason? How many kids are left for just a few minutes
before they are abducted? I thought about Joshua and how I
couldn't stand to see him cry, even when he's playing me, much
less if he had real fears of me abandoning him. I went
back to the bar and a few minutes later the other cocktail
waitress came in and said she saw the woman and the kids walking
through the casino. The woman was holding the baby,
walking with her husband, and the three older kids were
straggling about a mile behind, one of them pushing the
stroller. If someone grabbed one of the kids they wouldn't
have a clue. We all knew they'd just go to the next casino
and do the same thing.
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