On ESPN.com right now:
Um, I don’t think that phrase applies in this situation. ‘Dead’ is bad.
Apparently, these pita chips taste like a Greek Isle. I don’t think the flavor of dirt, sweat, and seawater sounds very appetizing.
Next up for the Garden of Eatin Product Development Department: a hummus-flavored pita chip called “Middle Eastern Powderkeg.”
In the “Nanny State” that we live in, it seems like everything needs instructions these days. Sure, there are things where instructions should be necessary, like IKEA furniture, brownie mix, or passport applications.
Whole Foods figured that instructions shouldn’t be necessary for standing in line at their location on Houston Street. Standing in line seems like a simple concept. But unfortunately, I’m starting to think they might need to install a sign with instructions.
The checkout line is pretty self-explanatory at first glance. There are three lines. Each of them is color-coded. You choose a line and stand in it. When a number is announced (visually and audibly) on the plasma screen at the front of the line over your color, you proceed to that numbered register.
This is a very simple process. It should not be difficult to comprehend, but idiotic New Yorkers always find a way to screw things up. This procedure is no exception.
Earlier this week, I stood in the blue line. There were about six people in line in front of me. Both the red and cream-colored lines had roughly two or three more people in them. I figured I lucked out and took the quickest line.
After three rotations of numbers being called, the number 16 appeared in the blue color bar on the screen above our line. Without hesitation, a woman in the cream-colored line proceeded directly to register 16. When the next number for the cream-colored line came up seconds later, the woman behind her went to that register. The woman at the front of our line just stood there. She did not defend herself. She did not tell the woman at register 16 to get back in line. It all happened so quickly that I’m not sure she could have really snapped into action – she was simply stunned by what had just happened. So, my entire line got penalized for someone else’s stupidity, and I had to spend an extra minute in line.
This is not the first time this has happened. Nearly every time I go to Whole Foods, someone can’t figure out this relatively uncomplicated system. Never has anyone confronted a line-cutter in my presence. I presume that this is mainly because many Whole Foods customers lack the energy needed to confront others because of their vegan diets. Then again, since the customers aren’t smart enough to figure out that “organic” is pretty must just another word for “expensive,” they probably aren’t smart enough to figure out this whole checkout system. If that bitch takes my register, I will take it back by force.
And if she gets hostile, I will take a wad of raw ground beef and throw it at her. That’ll learn ‘er.
Part of an overheard sentence stated by a female in Union Square today that, if she were a member of my potential dating pool, would lead to her immediate expulsion from my dating pool, regardless of context:
…so, it was pouring rain, and I was wearing, like, Uggs or something…
This morning’s experience at Cafe Metro, a sub-par bagel/sandwich shop below my office in Midtown:
Me: Can I have an everything bagel with veggie tofu cream cheese?
Employee: Everything bagel with scallion cream cheese?
Me: No, everything bagel with veggie tofu cream cheese.
Employee: Everything bagel lightly toasted?
Me: No, not toasted. Ev-ery-thing ba-gel with veg-gie to-fu cream cheese.
Employee: Okay. [begins to prepare bagel for the next 20 seconds] Sir, we do not have veggie tofu cream cheese today.
Me: Fine, I’ll have regular veggie cream cheese instead.
Employee: Regular cream cheese?
Me: No, regular veggie cream cheese. Instead of veggie tofu.
Employee: We do not have veggie tofu.
Me: I know, I said that veggie cream cheese [pointing to veggie cream cheese in cooler] is fine.
Employee makes bagel. He toasts the bagel, despite the fact that I specifically asked him not to. I step away for a moment to get juice, but as he finishes wrapping my bagel to give to me, I notice that it’s not an everything bagel. Employee hands me my bagel, wrapped in foil. I unwrap it before going to cashier.
Me: Excuse me, sir, I ordered an everything bagel with veggie cream cheese.
Employee: Yes, that is an everything bagel.
Me: Uh, no, it isn’t. This is a cinnamon raisin bagel with… uh… veggie cream cheese.
Other Customer: That was probably my bagel, but I ordered a cinnamon raisin bagel with regular cream cheese.
Employee: [rolls eyes, takes bagel back] You had everything bagel with scallion cream cheese?
Me: Veggie cream cheese.
Employee makes bagel again, this time with Me watching him very carefully. The end result is actually exactly what I ordered – an everything bagel, untoasted, with veggie cream cheese. I think he just forgot to toast it on the second go-around, or just didn’t feel like dealing with me any longer.
My boss had been warning me for months that their service was incompetent, but I had never had any real problem there, until I came across this “other bagel guy,” who I had seen many times before, but miraculously managed to avoid entirely until today.
No, I can’t. I probably couldn’t answer more than one, in fact, and I certainly wouldn’t answer it in the form of a MySpace bulletin. What goes on in the bathroom is my business and mine alone.