Saturday, March 18, 2006

7 Foot Long Plastic Chili Peppers' Don't Taste Very Good Anyway

I am normally a very mature and calm person. I swear it. (Shut up, Sonja.) But, is there such a thing as Hunger Induced Tourette's Syndrome? Just curious. Well, because I think I might have this rare disease if it does exist.

After working in the yard for about four or five hours, shoveling compost, and weeding, etc; my husband decided that he needed to take me to lunch. Cool. I all for that. I was absolutely starving. And even though I was in my grubby gardening clothes, and was perfectly willing to participate in some Taco Bell chow down time, he insisted on taking me to Olive Garden for some mussels and breadsticks. YUM!

Let me get the first lesson learned out of the way: Avoid Olive Garden at 2:00 pm on a Saturday. It seems like an oddball time for the place to be packed but it was. I didn't even want to get out of the car when I saw the 15 or so people standing outside waiting for a table. The husband says, "We can just eat in the bar." We went inside against my better judgment and the chick at the stupid little podium says it will be 15 minutes. Now I don't know about you, but my experience is that when they estimate any amount of time to wait, you might as well multiply it by 2, every time. So I asked her, "Is that a real fifteen minutes or 'The Olive Garden' fifteen minutes?" She just stared at me. The Tourette's kicked in a little at this point. I turned to my husband, grabbed his hand and steered him towards the door, while stately loudly that I wasn't going to wait a half hour to eat over priced food at "fucking Olive Garden." My husband decided it was a good idea to leave.

Then he seems to think that we needed to go to another over priced chain restaurant. Chili's. I actually like Chili's, they have good food. But we walked in and it was packed. Does anybody ever eat during normal hours? I figured the lunch rush would be done by then. Nope. They tell us it's going to take 15-20 minutes to get seated. I'm pretty sure at this point you could see steam coming out of my ears. Then the chick at the stupid little podium pipes in and says, "Unless you want to sit at a 'high-top". What the hell is a high top? I looked at her like she was the retard and informed her that I didn't work there and had no idea what a "high-top" was. I am not normally this rude, but by this point it was 2:45 and I hadn't eaten all day and was ready to rip the giant chili pepper off of the ceiling and knaw on it. So we get seated. (A high-top by the way is one of those higher tables that they have in the bar section.)

We are handed menus, and told that our server would be right with us. We watched a couple to our right get seated and handed menus. We watched a couple to our left get seated and handed menus. We watched both couples give their drink orders. We watched both couples get their drinks and give their food orders. We hadn't even been given water yet. WTF? The chick that sat us was prancing by when I caught her and asked her, "Do we even have a server?" She looked at the empty table, and went to go find us one. I don't know what happened, but from the time we were seated and the time we actually gave our order, 45 minutes had elapsed. Nobody is that busy, I don't care who you are. Especially since we were sitting right next to the servers station. Sigh....maybe it was because I was bitchy, I don't think so though.

And before I get a bunch of comments, yes I have been in their shoes. I have waitressed, bused, cooked, you name it, I've done it. So I know what to expect at a restaurant, even while it's busy. And I have sympathy. But 45 minutes before even getting a waitress to give us the time of day? That's just plain bad service. Or it could of just been my Turette's. My eye is twitching just thinking about it.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Boredom Prevails


Fake radio announcement (try to imagine this being spoken by the guy who dubs the movie previews):

The "Super 70's Disco Circus" rides into town twice every year bringing joy and spreading cheer to children of every age.

Skintight Bob with his skintight leather bellbottoms leads the traveling bunch of 70s superstars complete with white leather boots and a baby blue leisure suit.

Dancin' Donna with her 16 lace rollerskates leads all the menfolk away from their ladies. Her long legs and Daisy Dukes do all of her talking.

Supa' Soul Brotha' Lady Luva' (my personal favorite) has hair the size of a beach ball and a special place in his heart for the ladies he likes to call "Mu-tha'. And watch out for this Kung Fu Masta', he'll break your heart and your legs.

Dyn-O-Mite Steve and Lady Shifty Flava Eva cut up the linoleum with their patented groove stylings. Watch out for these two, they're on the move flyin' supa' smooth.

Twice a year we derive pleasure from this carnival of leisure. Six days every six months we are droppin' some fun on small towns all over the USA. So if you hear that funky jangle beat come nibblin' at your ears from miles away, remember to polish that linoleum and dust off those bellbottoms 'cause the Super 70's Disco Circus is headin' your way.

The following is a pubic service announcement: Check out my latest tenant, (under Teh Blogfather). Warning tho, this is probably the only other person on earth that uses the F-word more than me. Kinda cool I thought. Later

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Why are people unable to learn?

How many times have you stood in line behind some helpless idiot who seems to have no idea on how to work his ATM/Debit card? Who are these fricking people? I mean really, ATM cards have been around for more than 20 years. Who are these, head-in-a-cave-clueless-mental-midgets that can't seem to grasp the workings of an ATM machine. It used to bother me, but at least it was only limited to the cash machines. Now thanks to every store in the world having an ATM at the counter, I see more of these idiots than ever.

Just the other day, I found myself grinding my teeth at the local grocery store, dreaming of slapping someone silly. Waiting for some lady to try and figure out the meaning of life while she paid for her loaf of bread and milk using her ATM card. I could have done it in less time had I been blindfolded, hung upside down and forced to do it with the big toe of my left foot! How hard can it be...

"Debit or Credit?"
"Enter PIN number?"
"Cash back...YES/NO?"
"Is this amount OK, YES/NO?"

I would like to be in charge of deeming people "UNFIT TO USE AN ATM". They would then have a bar code tattooed on their asses so that they would be forced to lower their drawers in public while the clerk scans their left butt cheek. I can see it now: the headline in the newspaper that will read..."Local Woman Goes Berserk and Kills ATM Customer!, woman (ah, that would be me) hauled away screaming, "Scan their ass...scan their ass!" That day is coming soon.

Another thing that bothers me while I'm bitching. The product warnings we're all subjected to, due to people placing lawsuits against companies for what amounts to their own stupidity.

A few examples: I bought some stick deodorant the other day, a brand I hadn't used before. Upon using it, I pulled off the lid, inside there was a smaller plastic cover, I guess to protect the product. On top of the little piece of plastic it read "REMOVE BEFORE USING". Huh? As if I'm gonna spend the next week rubbing this plastic piece against my underarm wondering why I don't smell exactly peachy by the afternoon? What lawsuit caused this little bit of silliness, and what jackass sued over it...I wonder? Did you hear about the woman a few years back who sued Johnson and Johnson due to her becoming pregnant after improperly using their Spermicidal Jelly? Apparently (and unfortunately I am not making this up), she put it on toast and ate it. Um, can we say, EWWWW!? She then became pregnant and sued Johnson and Johnson for lifetime support of her unwanted child, claiming it was reasonable for her to eat the product on toast...since they did call it Jelly? The really scary part is that this woman was allowed to I wrong?

The last thing that just makes me shake my head, are the signs in the doorway of my local McDonald's which read..."We provide Braille menu's, which are available at the counter." Who is this sign for? If I am truly blind I can't read the sign on the door telling me that they have Braille menu's. The sign on the door is not in Braille, so I ask you...What is the point of the sign???? I've also noticed that the menu outside, for the driveup, has little Braille bumps on it. The day I see a person get out of the drivers seat of a car at the drive thru window at McDonalds, so they can read the Braille menu, is the day I never leave my house again. You can never be too safe on the streets again.

Why do companies do stuff like this you think? You guessed it, it's all about looking good. And, in the words of Billy Crystal..."It's better to look good than to feel good and Dahling...You Rook Maaahvelous!"