Oct 2006
Lunch.
10/12/06 01:55 PM
Honestly, I set out to
get a salad.
I had it in mind all morning that I wanted a salad. This doesn't happen a lot, usually only when I'm constipated, or when my guts feel all backed up, or those times when I can't poop right. I went out with salad on my mind. "Gonna get a salad!" I said as I left the building, to anyone who would listen. They said, "Must be a little backed up today, eh?" and I said "Hoo-boy, you got that right!"
I drove to Wendy's because I like their salads, and the drive-thru line stretched out into the street. I didn't feel like hanging out in the intersection with my blinker on until somebody decided if they wanted a small, medium or large size combo; so I changed directions and went towards McDonald's because their salads are okay too. Huge line at the drive-thru! I didn't want to wait in that one either! And it's cold outside today, so no way I'm getting out of my car. No SIR.
Now I'm MAD. Mad at salad. I say, "Fuck salad!" and drive across the street to the Burger King where there is almost never a long drive-thru line and I don't like the salads so much. "Fuck salad!" I said again to anyone who would listen, which was no one because I was by myself in my car. I now wanted the opposite of salad, because fuck salad. I saw this poster for the BK ANGUS SHROOMS AND SWISS that looked mammoth and disgusting, and I was all set to order that when I got to the speakerbox. But then I saw it has lettuce and mayonnaise on it. You know what that is? SALAD.
I tell the girl yakkin' at me through the speaker, "What do you have that is the opposite of salad? I want a combo of that."
"Uhh... what? Ah- we have a BK STACKER, it says right here on the poster it is the opposite of salad."
My BK STACKER was two BK beef (not to be confused with real beef) patties, bacon, cheese, cheese sauce and pickles.
I'll get that salad in for dinner, unless I'm still mad at salad, in which case fuck salad.
I had it in mind all morning that I wanted a salad. This doesn't happen a lot, usually only when I'm constipated, or when my guts feel all backed up, or those times when I can't poop right. I went out with salad on my mind. "Gonna get a salad!" I said as I left the building, to anyone who would listen. They said, "Must be a little backed up today, eh?" and I said "Hoo-boy, you got that right!"
I drove to Wendy's because I like their salads, and the drive-thru line stretched out into the street. I didn't feel like hanging out in the intersection with my blinker on until somebody decided if they wanted a small, medium or large size combo; so I changed directions and went towards McDonald's because their salads are okay too. Huge line at the drive-thru! I didn't want to wait in that one either! And it's cold outside today, so no way I'm getting out of my car. No SIR.
Now I'm MAD. Mad at salad. I say, "Fuck salad!" and drive across the street to the Burger King where there is almost never a long drive-thru line and I don't like the salads so much. "Fuck salad!" I said again to anyone who would listen, which was no one because I was by myself in my car. I now wanted the opposite of salad, because fuck salad. I saw this poster for the BK ANGUS SHROOMS AND SWISS that looked mammoth and disgusting, and I was all set to order that when I got to the speakerbox. But then I saw it has lettuce and mayonnaise on it. You know what that is? SALAD.
I tell the girl yakkin' at me through the speaker, "What do you have that is the opposite of salad? I want a combo of that."
"Uhh... what? Ah- we have a BK STACKER, it says right here on the poster it is the opposite of salad."
My BK STACKER was two BK beef (not to be confused with real beef) patties, bacon, cheese, cheese sauce and pickles.
I'll get that salad in for dinner, unless I'm still mad at salad, in which case fuck salad.
|
License plate and mental leap.
10/11/06 03:48 PM
It's no secret that I
have a preoccupation with vanity license plates. I
think this is because, unlike some other states, in
Ohio you have to pay extra to get personalized
plates. And it's not like you can just pop in to the
DMV and pick up your custom plate- you have to order
it special after standing in line with the usual
happy folks, wait a few weeks for some convicted
felon to make it for you, and then go stand in line
again to pick it up. That's some serious commitment
to your message. You will forever be linked to that
word or phrase that you went out of your way to bolt
to your automobile, so better make it good. Every
time someone sees your car, be it driving slowly by
the schoolyard like you do, parked in front of the 24
hour porn shop by the freeway like you always are, or
maybe catching a nap on the roadside after drinking
your lunch again, everyone will know it's you because
your plate is so unique. In high school I knew this
guy who inexplicably loved the Cleveland Crunch, our
indoor soccer team (previously named The Force, which
was cool, but then Nestle bought the team and named
them after a candy bar). Anyway, he got plates that
said "CRUNCH"
for his car. SO GAY I know. That's what everyone
would always say- "Is that Frenz's gay CRUNCH car?
That's SO GAY!" And Frenz was not gay, but those
plates... totally. I used to make fun of his CRUNCH
plates, and then he would say, "Well, at least I have
a car to put plates on!" and then I'd say, "OH MAN
YOUR CAR IS GAY."
It's true I didn't have a car in high school and I had to tool around my mom's blue catering minivan, but it made me feel like a big man to belittle others, even though they drove me everywhere.
Yesterday I was on my way back to work from Wendy's with our Big Bacon Classic combos and I saw a great license plate. I punched myself in the head as I realized I didn't have a camera with me, because I like a visual record of these things. But anyway, this lady was driving around (smoking AND talking on a cell phone) with this awesome plate, which I know was supposed to be read as "sweetie pie", but I guess someone else in Ohio already had that, so this lady had to go with "SWTY PIE". Of course, that's "sweaty pie". Now, because of this license plate, we're all thinking* of a raunchy G-string and squat-thrusts in a hot, stinky room.
*Well, now we all are.
It's true I didn't have a car in high school and I had to tool around my mom's blue catering minivan, but it made me feel like a big man to belittle others, even though they drove me everywhere.
Yesterday I was on my way back to work from Wendy's with our Big Bacon Classic combos and I saw a great license plate. I punched myself in the head as I realized I didn't have a camera with me, because I like a visual record of these things. But anyway, this lady was driving around (smoking AND talking on a cell phone) with this awesome plate, which I know was supposed to be read as "sweetie pie", but I guess someone else in Ohio already had that, so this lady had to go with "SWTY PIE". Of course, that's "sweaty pie". Now, because of this license plate, we're all thinking* of a raunchy G-string and squat-thrusts in a hot, stinky room.
*Well, now we all are.