[Lifestyles] Grade Pending

Listen close and you will hear a story of great woe. Just like the fairy tales of old, this tale begins with the phrase used so many times before with once upon a time in a little place called Canarise Brooklyn. It was a quiet night in which a BOY traveled to and fro in search of a great meal. With his stomach growling he entered a place called Fortune Cookies Chinese Restaurant. As the BOY entered the tiny little shop, he did not notice the NYC Health Department “Grade Pending” sign in front, because if he did it would have warned him of the troubles to come. The BOY gave the female shop keeper his order of lo mein with fried chicken and started to count the minutes before he can quench his hunger. As he sat and waited, one of the workers came into view. He was very slobbish, covered in dirt, grease and grime. Like clouds in the sky, the BOY could see patterns form on the workers apron. The BOY shuddered a bit. The worker placed a mop in his hand to the side so he could close a trash bag overflowing with rubbish. It was quite a difficult task. He took his bare hands to push everything inside so he could be able to seal the black bag. Once finished, he pulled the bag out and dragged it into the street for the garbage men to come pick it up in the wee hours of the morning. Once he returned, he entered the kitchen, dipped his hands in the container of lo mein noodles and threw it into a wok. The BOY gasped at this sight. The man, who he just seen taking his bare hands pushing down garbage, was now, cooking his meal without washing his hand. Sicken to the core, the BOY fled in hopes to never return, but he had realized one thing too late. He had eaten from this same place several times before…

The moral, if you can call it that is…

DO NOT FUCKING EAT AT FORTUNE COOKIE CHINESE RESTAURANT LOCATED AT 9004 AVEUNE B IN BROOKLYN, N.Y.!!!

Of course there is more to this story. A while back, I wrote a blog called: B is for Failure, in which I talked about a Subways restaurant on my block that had a B-rating from the Health department. After seeing that rating, I went on the health department’s website and did my own little research about other places in my neighborhood. Many places had sever violations and it made me really wonder had these places can get away with this. In this little adventure, I did my research once again on the placed named above and was shocked to what I had discovered and the loop holes used so that the public is not aware of this travesty. On the NYC health department website you can find out how they score and grade plus there latest and previous inspections. It’s quite simple really. The age of technology is just a wonderful beast at times.

When you are on the website, you can either enter in the eatery’s name you want to find or the zip code, which in this case 11236, and it will pull up the place or all the restaurants within that area. After filtering based on cuisine type (American, Bakery, Caribbean, Chinese, etc…), I found Fortune Cookies had a “Not Yet Graded” as their current grade (When I first did the search it was actually a C grade, but it has since changed). While going through the inspections on the left side of the screen of their most recent I disgusted by what I saw. To put things in perspective here is the how the health department score violations…

From the “How we score and Grade” PDF:

The points for a particular violation depend on the health risk it poses to the public. Violations fall into three categories:

A public health hazard, such as failing to keep food at the right temperature, triggers a minimum of 7 points. If the violation can’t be corrected before the inspection ends, the Health Department may close the restaurant until it’s fixed.

A critical violation, for example, serving raw food such as a salad without properly washing it first, carries a minimum of 5 points.

A general violation, such as not properly sanitizing cooking utensils, receives at least 2 points.

 

In September of last year, Fortune Cookie was graded 3 times. Once on the 10^th which added up to 62 violation points, the next on the 13^th which added up to 32 points and lastly on the 14^th with only 3 points. Lucky for the public you can actually see what they were violated for. This is a screen shot of the September 10^th list violations:

Click on image to expand size.

Personal cleanliness… does that creep anyone else out like it did me? I have to assume as a person looking at this, that it only received a 3 in there last inspection because of the city threatening to shut them down and they hired a crew of elves to come in and do there magic… maybe one of those Sookie Stackhouse fairies as well perhaps.

I began to wonder why in the hell did this place have a “Grade Pending” on its store front window when it clearly wasn’t making the grade at all. Everything was kind of confusing until I reread the PDF document. There is a part that I want to make EVERYONE aware of. Towards the bottom of the first page and the top of the second there is this:

“A restaurant has two chances to earn an A in every inspection cycle. If it doesn’t earn an A on the first inspection, it’s scored but ungraded. An inspector goes back to the restaurant unannounced, typically within a month, to inspect it again and the re-inspection is graded. If the grade is a B or C, the restaurant will receive a grade card and a grade pending card. It can post either card until it has an opportunity to be heard at the Office of Administrative Trials and Hearings Health Tribunal. 

Until a restaurant has a graded inspection, it is listed as Not Yet Graded on the Health

Department website”

I underlined the most important part. A place can either post the grade they had received OR a Grade Pending sign. Establishments, unless they are shut down, can hide their score from the public!!! Ain’t that some shit right there… I was ready to let Facebook, Foursquare, Google and anyone that could hear me from my soapbox about this place. That’s another reason to love the technology age. I started to comb the internet for some reviews and frankly there were very few expect for this one Yelps. Here is the screenshot:

Click on image to expand size.

A disclaimer though… While the place reviewed was actual ANOTHER Fortune Cookies restaurant in Bensonhurst, Dyker Heights area, the review mentioned a place called Chopsticks which is right down block and provides a better service than Fortune Cookie, so I knew that she might’ve made a mistake in placing the review there. I also felt that the first review was also talking about the Fortune Cookies restaurant as well, but I am not 100% sure about that.

After being sick for months and unable to stomach even the sight of food. It is disappointing that places like this exist and even shameful that people pack them without doing any research. A few minutes can avoid hours of throwing up or much worse. I suggest that everyone out there takes a moment (especially if you live in the New York area) to review some of the fast food places that you go into everyday. What you might learn may surprise you and save your life.

Kenny.

[My Life] Fitness FAIL

On January 17^th, I checked my bank account online and there was a debit from Planet Fitness of 10 dollars. I really, really started to kick myself because of it. You see, the charge wasn’t something that was shocked about getting, since I did have a membership with them. I just hated the fact that I feel like I was wasting money in a time where money is really needed. I’ve only been there once and you might have guessed it… it was t o sign up for that damn sweet membership offer. 20 dollars down, 10 dollars a month… Where can you find something like that in this day and age? Since coming back like Lazarus, where I was on the brink of death and left in an extremely weaken state, I have made great strides to improve my heath situation, but the one thing I have learned is that “the road to recovery is paved with bumps and bruises” so it’s been slow and sometimes painful to deal with. Trust me when I say that I have experienced it all over the last few months.

Since getting my gym membership, I eat all the time either at home or places like IKEA (The food there is off the chain!!!) or Wingstop which is better than any BBQ’s place around even Dallas BBQ’s right down the street in Downtown Brooklyn. I regained all the weight I had lost, go me!!! Especially since the crackish look was SOOO 1980’s. Being 6’3 and 148lbs was not a good look at all. Plus, I used to (and still have) major body issues. I thought I was too big, while others around me thought I was getting way too skinny for comfort. Even my mother told me that she thought I might be anorexic. Yeah, it was that serious…  So now, I have a book bag ready full of the necessaries of the gym, but I can’t seem to drag my ass over there which is only a 15 minute bus ride. It’s been either one thing or the other. The excuses have become: I am waiting for my brother to come with me since I don’t know/remember how to use the equipment; the weather outside is way too cold for me to go out; I am going to go first thing in the morning before the sunrise to avoid the muscle jocks that get off on looking freaks of nature; etc, etc, etc…

I do have other motives to getting in shape. This coming summer I want to go back to Robert Moses beach out in Fire Island which is clothing option. Yup, a nude beach and I want to be in the best physical shape so when I walk around with Mr. Happy flopping about and I don’t want to be self conscience about my increasing gut. Vanity… Such a wonderful sin, isn’t it? Beside the whole eating right and regularly, going to the doctor and taking my medications every day on time, I just really want to be one of those guys that will make jaws drop with a banging body.

It’s not going to happen overnight. I know that. It takes time, patience and all the other hippie crap you hear from the infomercials hocking some overpriced equipment. I just need to get that motivation to actually do it. But I will tell you this… If I don’t go to the gym before February 17^th, I am going to cancel my membership and get one of those Tae Bo tapes.

Kenny. 

[Lifestyles] A Billion Broken Shards

I can’t believe it’s been 10 years already. You hear people say that all the time in an abstract way on how time pushes forward while they’re somewhat stuck looking at one still moment in time. In the craziness of the day I still remember every little thing that happen and the emotions that I was going through. Well the emotions that we were all going through in some form or another. I wrote this blog about 5 years ago in which I posted and reposted to several social networking site as each anniversary passed. After this year, I will retire it. As a part of growing and moving on, I need to work on moving passed EVERYTHING that happened that month. I was only 20 when this happen, just a kid that was barely out of high school and had no understanding of what the world was trying to offer me, but on this day 10 years ago all that changed and I was forced just like the rest of the country to walk with fear.

So here is my story about that day…

I was dreaming… I don’t remember what it was about but I knew I was dreaming until it happen. That damn phone call. It was 7:30 in the morning and let’s be honest WHO would want to receive a call that early. Rolling over I looked at the Caller ID and it was a familiar number. My co-worker Jerry Garcia that just started working at the same store in Queens as I did with my Best-friend as our boss.

            “Hey Kenny… Can you do me a huge favor, please… Tell Kobe that I can’t come in today because I can’t get anyone to drive me into the City and Queens… and that I will try to come in tomorrow if I could get a ride to pick up my check.”

            Pissed, I said, “You know that Kobe has a Cell phone, why the hell are you calling my ass for?”

            “Kenny come on can you do me this favor?” he whined.

            “Whatever, Jerry I will talk to you later” I said hanging up the phone. I tossed the covers aside, went into the kitchen made breakfast. My grandmother was in her usually seat in the Living room watching Walker Texas Ranger and she was hooting and hollering as Chuck Norris kicked some bad guys ass. Once I finished with breakfast I brushed my teeth and headed back into my room to lay back down.

The timer on the TV turned itself on and the WB11 morning news was staring back at me. Ironically they were doing the weather forecast and talked about how beautiful the day was going to be. But of course no one knew what was to come beside those that put it in action. In a flash I turned the television off and turned on Z100, hoping to hear some music that would put me in a better mood. It was 8:30, when I closed my eyes hoping that would at least get another 30 minutes of uninterrupted sleep before I had to get ready for work and be there on time at 11, but then the announcement came.

DJ Elvis Duran of the Z-morning Zoo broke into a song and announced that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center building a few minutes ago. I opened my eyes and grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. It was true. As I flip through every channel that had images of one of the World Trade Center buildings on fire.

            “Great…” I whispered. I just knew that nothing good was going to come from this.

It was just before 9am when I called my boss/best friend. He had just gotten into the store and from his voice he was nursing a hangover.

“Hey, Kobe” I said, somewhat extra cheerful.

“What happen?” he said automatically. After being best friends for so long he knew my moods.

“Well, I got a call from Jerry this morning and he wanted me to tell you that he wasn’t coming in today and –“… before I could say anything else he started screaming.

“THAT STUPID MOTHERFUC-“ Well you get the point he was pissed and swore up and down that Jerry’s ass was out and would be fired as soon as he finished his coffee. Just before I was about to hang up, I remember the plane crash. I took the remote from my grandmother, which she cursed at me about and turned it to network television.

“Kobe, have you seen the news yet?” I asked

“No… what’s up?” he answered.

“Well going home might be a problem for you because some plane crashed into the World Trade Center…”

“What!!!” he exclaimed.

He turned on the televisions in his store and he stared at the same images that I was staring at in my home. “Oh shit” he exclaimed. Flames and smoke were gushing out of the tall structure as the people below stood in shock.

“I wonder how something like-“ It felt like it was slow motion. Before I could complete my sentence we both saw the second plane crash into the World Trade Center and explode. The words: Oh my God…escaped my lips. It was at that point I knew there was much more to this than just being a coincidence.

“Kenny did you see that? Did you see that?” he said. I couldn’t speak as the second tower began to explode in fire and what seems like a billion broken shards of glass crashing to the ground below.

“Kobe I don’t believe it?” I finally said.

“But you saw it too, right?  You saw that plane hit the building right?”

“Yeah I did… I think I did…” I said confirming not only what Kobe saw but what I’ve seen as well. “Kobe I will call you back...” I said after a short pause.

My first thought was my mother. Was she at work or was she at the World Trade Center? I just need to make sure. Since she was looking for a new job and most of the people in her company were now employed at the World Trade. I grabbed the phone again and called my mother’s cell phone and to my shock, I heard it ringing in a pair of discard jeans on my bedroom floor. I had forgotten that I had used it that weekend and forgot to give it back to her. This day of all days, why did I do something stupid like that? I dialed her work number and all it did was ring and go to her voicemail. After the 7^th time I was in a panic.  She had to be alright… I kept telling myself and my grandmother was no help. She didn’t understand what was really happening or why I was stressing out the way I was.

“It’s nothing…” she kept saying to me in her deep southern drawl. “Your mama ain’t there she is at work”

But I knew better. As quickly as I could I grabbed some jeans and a shirt and raced out of the door leaving my grandmother no longer watching the broadcast but Walker, Texas Ranger.

Nothing worked. The trains were at a standstill and tempers at the train station were at its breaking point. No one knew anything and the token booth operator was at loss for words. I ran liked the wind to catch the B12 bus to take me across Brooklyn so I can at least find be closer to Downtown where I was praying my mother would be. The bus was crowded full of more people that were more confused than I was. The rumor mill was fluttering around that there more planes crashing and one crashed into a building in Washington D.C. The bus just passed Kings county hospital when some one said that one of the buildings collapsed. That was the first time I cried. Tears were streaming down my face, and a woman patted my back telling me that it was going to be okay. I couldn’t tell you what she looked like or how she sounded, I just remembered her patting my back and me saying something about needed my mother. When the bus finally made it to Flatbush Ave., I was one of the first ones out and rushed to the connected bus stop. At the B41 bus stop on Flatbush Ave. and Parkside Ave. I waited with another crowd of people looking to get into a cramped bused. The bus driver told everyone that there were no buses heading to downtown Brooklyn at that time. Men and women were cursing and screaming at each other, the bus driver and at the world. I couldn’t let this set back stop me. I started to run up Flatbush Ave. and towards Downtown. With my mother’s cell phone in hand I called her job again and received no answer.

As I passed the Prospect Park train station on the Q train I started to notice something.  There were no cars traveling around me anymore and the people coming towards me were not longer white or black… they were gray. Gray people. These Gray people were everywhere as I raced passed the infamous Prospect Park.

 As I reached Grand Army Plaza, I saw a female police officer and went up to her.

“Excuse me officer, is it true? Did a building collapsed?” I asked breathing hard from running and I feared that I would faint right there.

“I don’t know…” she said trying to direct people around. As I started again towards Downtown when the officer grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I got to find my mother” I said, trying to pull my arm away.

“It’s a mess down there, you will only be in the way…” she told me, but I didn’t listen or care about what she was trying to say to me. I had only one objective and that was my mother. And so I moved on. Rushing through the sea of gray people, I stopped at an electric store, where a friend of mine was working located on Atlantic Ave. and Flatbush Ave. The store was crowded with people hovering around the television and buying radios, batteries and other things. My friend Mathew took me into the backroom where I was trying to hold myself together. On the television in the back room I saw the last tower fall to the earth and people just started to cry and gasp. The Mayor was calling for those to leave lower Manhattan and I was scared out of my mind. I looked up at Mathew and he looked down at me and we were speechless.

His mind was on his wife and daughter and I was completely blank. I didn’t know what to do or say. Before I knew it I was out of the door and back on my journey. Downtown Brooklyn was a mad house full of people running from the imaginary boogeyman that was now in your lives. The Gray people were in numbers now, some bleeding, some crying but all covered in ash. As I made my way through the crowded Fulton Street Mall area in Downtown, Brooklyn I tried to close my mind to what was going on around me.

My mother was standing in front of her job. When I saw her, I couldn’t let her go. It was embarrassing to my mother because I just held her and kissed each of her cheeks over and over again right in front of her Boss. She smiled.

“Why didn’t you pick up the phone?” I asked my face flooded with tears.

“I wasn’t at my desk… we were at the window and saw the planes hit… so we got the hell out of the building. When I got a chance to call the house, your grandmother said that you were coming down here to get your MAMA!!!” she said laughing.

 I do not remember the way home or what we talked about, but I do remember that I held her hand all the way home. Over the next few days we found out that many of her friends and old co-workers died that morning in the may lay. I didn’t feel anything for the many died that morning at first; my main focus was my mother and she was with me. But as the images of the destruction started to be over played on national television displaying families, spouses and others calling for their missing love one that was surely dead, it made me wonder what was going to happen next. Even now I am still wondering what is next…

Kenny.

[Lifestyles] Celebrities and Porn: A Love Story.

Sam Jones III. Ever heard of the guy? If you ever watched the first couple of seasons of Smallville you might have. He played the only recurring African-American character on the show until he was written off. You might know him from another show. He also played the gay little brother to Mekhi Phifer character Greg Pratt in the acclaimed series ER. He has spent 10 years of his life in front of the camera in other small roles and I didn’t know who this man was until I looked at his Wikipedia page.  So you might be asking yourself, why am I bringing this up now? Well… I stumbled on to something interesting about the man, you see he has something in common with the likes of Kim Kardashian, Paris Hilton and other wealthy D-List celebrities out there. He has a sex tape. In 2009, while I was dealing with my own personal issues, he was out there pushing a sex tape with himself and his girlfriend, one of Hugh Heffner’s ex girlfriends. Now it’s his life and what he does with his life is his business at the end of the day, but can I ask a question? When did having sex in front of a camera guarantee you a career in mainstream media? Or why are celebrities embarking in this route in keeping their names in the limelight? 10 years ago, if you were not in the porn industry where you are paid to have sex, having your private moments exposed for the world to see was an embarrassment. Now, people build careers off of them without remorse.

Now, I have seen Porn movies that attempt to merge acting and graphic sex. Some are successful like that “NOT” series of videos (i.e. “Not The Office”, “Not 3’s Company”, “Not The Cosby Show”, or “Not Good Times”), while others tend to leave me wanting to jab Q-Tips into my ears to spare myself the pain of hearing annoying dialogue. Like come on, how many times are you going to look into the cupboard and “inspect” something? Just please bend over so we can get this show on the road for pete sake. Maybe it’s just my impatient personality kicking in. I really don’t want to come off holier than thou on this, because I have no problem watching any of these videos. None at all… But it kills me when I see people who have no real talent, being famous for what they have done laying down with their feet up! Let’s keep it real, would American really care about Kim Kardashian or Paris Hilton if they weren’t seen deep throating a penis? Sometimes you just have to shake your head and wonder…

Kenny.

[My Life] Punch Drunk Kenny

I like drinking alcohol. The first few questions I ask when I enter a party is: “Where is the alcohol?” and “Who is making my drink?” Damn it, I am 30 and enjoy the moments where I can get so wasted that I look forward to waking up in some back alley, peeing on myself while recovering some repressed memories. But sadly, way too many people have seen me drunk over the last few years. I really didn’t mean for that to happen, but when you’re invited to house parties and bar events, where one thing would lead to another… Shit happens! Plus, I hate being drunk around people who either bother me or I have some kind of issue with because at some point in the night, the temporary wall I’ve built in my mind to hold back my true feelings will come crumbling down and yeah… it’s not pretty. Not pretty at all, but I can’t help myself. I am frankly not a “Let’s talk about my feelings” type a guy. I mostly keep everything in because I find that it’s better to just let it go for the moment but always remember what was done… but after that 4^th or 5^th rum and coke, well… The worst I’ve been was at a house party, where I drank that host of the party’s sister “Witches Brew” and had to piece together what the hell happen from videos that were posted on facebook the next few days. It seemed that I went all out and just told EVERYONE how I felt about them one by one and most of my comment were VERY inappropriate (Someone cried and block me on facebook because of it). It was a mess, especially since we had all worked together at the time and when I came into work that Monday morning it was all over the office. Another instance was me getting into a fist fight, but that’s a whole other story…

 So now I try to minimize my consumption since my funds are limited and avoid trouble in its many forms. However, that leads me into a new dilemma. For some reason all this summer I have been, as a former co-worker put it so lovely, in “Super Save A Negro” mode when I go out drinking. The company I’ve kept has gotten themselves so fucked up on the sauce that I had to make sure that they didn’t get arrested, sexually assaulted or too sick to stand so I could get them home safely. All of this ends me indulging in my own fun, which may not be such a bad thing in the long run. Maybe it’s just in my nature to care about my friends because at first I didn’t mind, but it became a constant thing, where babysitting was my job.

UUGGGHHH!!!

Sometimes it is not worth being known as the GOOD GUY or PROTECTOR!!!

Tomorrow night, I am going to go to this bar in lower Manhattan called the Iron Horse. It has a nice mix crowd and the bartenders are really cool for the most part and I have been going there for the last few months since one of my friends Andre put me on to the place. In fact I had blogged about the bar before in a blog called Crash. I am going there to chat with friends, make new ones and hopefully not feel like I have to keep a cape and red tights the “S” on the chest just in case something happens. Alcohol can be a wonderful at times, but a beast on the mind the next day…

Kenny.