He’s always around
[ 2 Comments ] Posted on 06.12.04 in complaints, politics
I work now so I can generously give a mandated portion to him.
I can’t take right hand turns into the left lane because he says so.
I can’t become a hairdresser without a license because he doesn’t want to trust me enough to snip his curly locks.
Crossing at places other than intersections? Not on his watch.
I have some freedoms, but I’m not going to receive them if I don’t have the necessary paperwork.
What’s worse, my voice means nothing to him; I can’t even vote for him.
He is The Man.
And from this point forward, it has been stuck to the aforementioned man.
Taco Bell
[ 1 Comment ] Posted on 06.05.04 in complaints, food
Today, myself being the healthy young lad I am, I walked up to the local Taco Bell for lunch. It’s not a long walk, three blocks and across Gulf-to-Bay Boulevard.
I started off at about 3:10, and made it there at about 3:20, maybe later. Anyway, I walked into the store and there wasn’t anyone at the register. No problem, I just stood there and waited. And waited. And waited.
I’m not a very vocal fellow, so I didn’t pipe up so that Maria in the back could notice me. This didn’t stop another customer who had already sat down with his food.
“Service to front!”
I thought this cry to be funny, so I chuckled. I wouldn’t be chuckling for long.
I made my order: A combo number 7, containing a chicken or steak quesadilla and a taco. I put some parameters on my meal, demanding the quesadilla be of the chicken variety and my taco be soft and lacking lettuce. Lettuce is gross.
No problem – I stated my case, had a $5.00 bill in my hand, and the transaction was going smoothly. That is, of course, until she did the unthinkable.
After I hand her my money, she dispenses 83 cents change, I say, “Thank you much,” and she says, “Sure, hun.”
I’ve never been particularly fond of pet names, but I’ve put up with them. Until now. The superfluous “hun” that little Maria entered into our business transaction wasn’t the sort of “hun” that a female says to a male. The way she presented it, she used the “hun” that one uses when talking to a six year old. A condescending, patronizing pet name. Granted, I’m short. Granted, I was walking up to the Bell in 90 degree heat. Granted, I may have looked helpless. I was not, however, helpless enough to warrant a name such as this.
And another thing. You do not introduce personal conversation into the transaction. Your job is to sell me tacos. My job is to eat them. Any other discussion or odd names takes from the professionalism of the two-bit operation you call Taco Bell.
I need some mental floss
[ 2 Comments ] Posted on 05.31.04 in complaints, music
It’s super annoying when you get songs stuck in your head. It could happen because of any influence; I find it to occur when I hear a song right before I go to sleep or as I get off of the bus going to school. And all day (or until another nestles itself within the friendly confines of your memory), you’re whistling and singing that bloody song over and over again. Even when you have to be quiet, respectful, or the like – there you are, gently humming it until someone hits you on the back of your head. It is as if your head is a broken jukebox hit too hard by the Fonz that unceasingly permeates that one song.
It wouldn’t be so bad if you knew the song, either. But you just have a general idea of the chorus and a vague recollection of the tune. So you hum the tune and think the lyrics until you get to the point of the song that you don’t know; then you start again, as if you were given the holy power to alter, nay, completely slaughter the song in question. This process goes on for hours, in some cases days, until one of two things happens: you die, or another stupid song stages a coup and throws the currently domineering ditty from power within the realm of your consciousness.
And so I leave you now, wishing to purge Kansas’ Carry On My Wayward Son from my mind.