A police officer was busy writing down a statement from 3 women as I marched through the door. Each of the women gripped a white and green cup, one frequently took a sip. I glanced around the space, looking for blood, weapons, or a candlestick....nothing. Everything looked fairly normal, actually. 4 men in the corner were leaning into a laptop, which displayed several graphs. A student with ear buds was busy flipping through an anatomy book, while a young woman, highlighter in mouth, was busy shuffling through pages in a notebook.
"What did I miss?", I asked the barista that was ready to take my order.
"Some guys stole some one's iPhone. Right off the table. Right in front of everyone!", she explained, seemingly pleased that I inquired.
"Well, wow!", I said, and proceeded with my order for an overpriced latte.
Caffeine in hand, I began looking for a table to set up camp for my 2pm call. I found an open chair, nestled in front of the inactive fireplace, with access to 4 outlets. Incredible.
After my call, I quietly worked. That was until the man in the purple shirt sat next to me, in the other brown leather chair. I gave him the customary coffee shop glance. If you frequent coffee joints, even the national chains, you KNOW the glance I'm referring to. I was about to break my stare as the man's bottom started it's descent down to the chair. As he was mid squat, he pushed the cup he was holding up to his lips and slurped. The kind of slurp a child would make as they held a plastic bowl up to their face, enjoying the milk left from their Cocoa Puffs cereal...chocolate.
He slurped again.
And again.
He sat down.
Ah, he probably didn't want to spill his drink, so he was taking off the top first half inch prior to sitting down. Then I realized there was a lid on the cup. My next conclusion, being the most obvious, was OCD. I mean, right?
This was quickly confirmed when he spent 4 minutes 'centering' his cup on the stone ledge that sat before him. Moments later, he began to slurp. Hard, often, and nothing less of obnoxious.
Bodily noises have and will always creep me out. When people try to get something out of their teeth by reverse whistling-gross. When people crack their knuckles-please don't. When people have flem in their throat while they talk-CLEAR YOUR THROAT! I mean, right?
Slurping was no different. The man continued to habitually slurp for the next few minutes. I seriously considered moving to another location. That was until, he picked up his phone.
He leaned back into his chair, far exceeding "comfort", and arguably going into the "inappropriate" zone. His legs were spread too far open, in my opinion. He quickly brushed his hand through his hair, which was oily and receding, and proceeded to dial.
"Hey......I was thinking about you so I thought I would call you. I'm glad you picked up", he said.
He was speaking loud, I guess he wanted to intentionally interrupt those that sat around him so they would listen. He took 3 more quick slurps of coffee. He was intently listening to the person on his phone.
"I took a hot shower. A long, hot shower. Got dressed, and now I'm at the coffee shop. I'm sitting in a very comfortable leather chair, and I'm thinking about you".
He began moving his open legs quickly from side to side-swaying in his chair.
"So how is your condition", he asked, just as loud as he was speaking before. He stopped swaying his legs.
I read and answered a few emails, and very quietly took a sip of my pumpkin spiced latte with skim milk. 2 minutes later, the man in the purple shirt became even more weird.
"So, I've been thinking.....two people should have chemistry, right? Do you think we have it? (there was a long pause) great, great...so do I. I was hoping you would say that. OF COURSE you're smart...you have an excellent vocabulary. Does your mother like me?"
He said this so quickly that I'm not so sure the person on the other end even had time to respond.
I put my cup up to my mouth, to cover a big smile that I could not hide. This was so funny to me. It wasn't like I was being the creepy one here. He was talking so loud, it was nearly impossible to not hear him.
"See...you are what I would call a 'plain Jane'. Remember that top you wore yesterday? Let me ask you this, do you like the way you look when you are sun kissed? When you have a tan, do you look Greek? Do you look Middle Eastern?", he went to pick up his cup, but instead, rubbed his ankle and leaned back in the chair.
I wonder if they ever met? The way this man was speaking to the woman on the phone, suggested they had only exchanged pictures. Wouldn't he know what she looked like when her skin was tanned?
"Polish? I could see that. When is the last time your hair was natural and not colored? Really? Do you have a picture...if I looked at your roots, I would see a light brown or a medium brown? Don't take this the wrong way, I like the way you look, BUT maybe not this decade, but the next decade...hopefully women won't color their hair", he went on to say. He was looking down at his feet, rubbing his hands through his Beethoven hair. A greasy masterpiece, indeed.
"Okay, I will call you later. Bye". Giving very little warning, he ended his conversation with the woman on the other end.
I picked up my cup, and sadly realized that I was out of java. I looked around me, the 3 tables that were once occupied, were now completely vacant. A few napkins and a straw were scattered across one. Did the man in the purple shirt scare everyone away? I was the person that was closest to him-only one small black coffee table sat between his chair and mine. Was I the weirdo for not leaving, too?
The man in the purple shirt picked up his cup, slurped 3 times, and got up from the chair. He had a newspaper with him, which I did not realize when he first sat down. He rolled it up, placed it under his armpit, and walked out the door.
As I slowly started packing up my things, again noticing the empty tables around me, I immediately began to feel self conscious. Was I the weird person for not leaving, too? Clearly the man in the purple shirt's behavior was beyond odd and his bizarre telephone conversation apparently offended all of the strangers that sat around us. Everyone but me.....
I must be the weird one, then. I mean, right?
Monday, September 19, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Excuse me-there is a hair in my food...
"May I have the Internet code, please?", I asked as I put my debit card back into my wallet. The girl behind the counter said, "Sure-here you go". She printed off a receipt and at the bottom was a series of letters and numbers. I was prepping for a conference call that was to start in 3 minutes. "Jenny will hook you up with some water for the tea", stated the girl behind the counter.
Okay-great, I thought. There was a large rack on the counter that displayed nearly two dozen metal canisters of tea. Orange blossom, honey-mint, Earl grey, and lemon-green tea to name a few. 2 minutes before my conference call...
The girl that was making drinks-a "barista"?, was busy crafting a coffee drink and chatting with the older man that was patiently waiting. Without any direction, and because the labels were facing me and easily accessible...well, I decided to take a tea pod out of the lemon-green tea canister.
When the barista was done making the man's coffee drink, she was about to go into the backroom when I asked, "Excuse me. Hi (and smiled), could I please get a cup of hot water for my tea?"
"Sure", she said. She grabbed a foam cup from the stack, and as she was filling it up with hot water turned her head to speak to me. "You know, you were not supposed to take your own tea. We have tongs for that. We don't like customers touching all of the bags-people get weird about that".
One minute before my conference call. "Oh-okay. I apologize. Yeah, I didn't like put my paws over ALL of the bags. I just shook the canister until a pod fell into my hand."
"well, here is your water". She placed the filled foam cup on the counter and walked into the back room. I dialed into my conference call and marched over to the table that housed the sugar, honey, napkins, and other coffee 'condiments'.
As I grabbed a handful of honey packets (I'm obsessed), I noticed a bunch of loose brown plastic coffee straws, totally unwrapped and exposed for anyone to grab, touch, or slobber on. I grabbed one from the top, like I was playing Jenga, but still touched the four or five straws that directly surrounded the chosen one. This could not be avoided.
I was not grossed out by this, but was a bit upset with the 18 year old that just chewed me out. So let me get this straight, people would be weirded out by someone dumping a tea pod from a canister into their hand, BUT have no issue with people (all day long), touching a plastic straw that WILL make it's way into your cup or mouth? Double standard-I mean, right?
I waited tables all through college at several different establishments ranging from smelly bars to upscale dining. I always thought it was REALLY funny when guests would say, "there is a spot on my spoon". It's a water spot-an inconsistency in the dish washer. Maybe a bit of residue from soap, maybe it didn't dry. Who the hell knows-it's not bodily fluid, poison, or anything else to freak out about. The same person that complains about a spot on their spoon ought to be more concerned about the fact that one of the line cooks has been coughing all day, or that the menus are touched all day, everyday, by dozens of people. You touch the menu and then help yourself to a piece of bread from the basket, which may or may not be clean, on your table.
Then you help yourself to some ketchup for your fries. Ketchup in a glass bottle that people have access to all day. People that may or may not place the tip of their knife into the jar, after they may or may not have licked the butter off moments before. Gross.....
I mean, right? People are so funny like that....
Okay-great, I thought. There was a large rack on the counter that displayed nearly two dozen metal canisters of tea. Orange blossom, honey-mint, Earl grey, and lemon-green tea to name a few. 2 minutes before my conference call...
The girl that was making drinks-a "barista"?, was busy crafting a coffee drink and chatting with the older man that was patiently waiting. Without any direction, and because the labels were facing me and easily accessible...well, I decided to take a tea pod out of the lemon-green tea canister.
When the barista was done making the man's coffee drink, she was about to go into the backroom when I asked, "Excuse me. Hi (and smiled), could I please get a cup of hot water for my tea?"
"Sure", she said. She grabbed a foam cup from the stack, and as she was filling it up with hot water turned her head to speak to me. "You know, you were not supposed to take your own tea. We have tongs for that. We don't like customers touching all of the bags-people get weird about that".
One minute before my conference call. "Oh-okay. I apologize. Yeah, I didn't like put my paws over ALL of the bags. I just shook the canister until a pod fell into my hand."
"well, here is your water". She placed the filled foam cup on the counter and walked into the back room. I dialed into my conference call and marched over to the table that housed the sugar, honey, napkins, and other coffee 'condiments'.
As I grabbed a handful of honey packets (I'm obsessed), I noticed a bunch of loose brown plastic coffee straws, totally unwrapped and exposed for anyone to grab, touch, or slobber on. I grabbed one from the top, like I was playing Jenga, but still touched the four or five straws that directly surrounded the chosen one. This could not be avoided.
I was not grossed out by this, but was a bit upset with the 18 year old that just chewed me out. So let me get this straight, people would be weirded out by someone dumping a tea pod from a canister into their hand, BUT have no issue with people (all day long), touching a plastic straw that WILL make it's way into your cup or mouth? Double standard-I mean, right?
I waited tables all through college at several different establishments ranging from smelly bars to upscale dining. I always thought it was REALLY funny when guests would say, "there is a spot on my spoon". It's a water spot-an inconsistency in the dish washer. Maybe a bit of residue from soap, maybe it didn't dry. Who the hell knows-it's not bodily fluid, poison, or anything else to freak out about. The same person that complains about a spot on their spoon ought to be more concerned about the fact that one of the line cooks has been coughing all day, or that the menus are touched all day, everyday, by dozens of people. You touch the menu and then help yourself to a piece of bread from the basket, which may or may not be clean, on your table.
Then you help yourself to some ketchup for your fries. Ketchup in a glass bottle that people have access to all day. People that may or may not place the tip of their knife into the jar, after they may or may not have licked the butter off moments before. Gross.....
I mean, right? People are so funny like that....
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
3 Days Left
There are many trends that I have fought hard to avoid in the past but eventually gave into, and in some cases, embraced. A few are listed below:
1. Uggs: The best thing to come from Down Under since Keith Urban. I made fun of them until I tried a pair on. I now have five styles. (In China, I slept in one pair for a whole week because my hotel was so cold).
2. Jeggings: For the record, I believe I was the first person in Michigan to own a pair. I bought them in Cambridge back in spring 2008...however, I didn't really wear them out until they became "cool".
3. DMB: I thought most people that listened to Dave Matthews were REALLY annoying (I went to high school with a lot of them). You know, the "Birmingham Hippies": drive BMW's, wear $200 jeans, but intentionally don't bathe or wash their hair in order to feel more connected with homeless people. Well, freshmen year of college changed all of that-I was exposed to The Lilywhite Sessions. Bonfires-drinking games-snowboarding...good times. I love DMB. There, I said it.
4. Skinny Jeans: Don't knock them until you try on a pair. I'm just sorry I waited so long. I didn't want to wear them when I was actually "skinny", and now...well...(sigh).
5. Fancy Coffee Drinks: This has been a recent thing for me. I could not STAND coffee until I had no choice while I was on the road. Literally a few hundred dollars later, I'm HOOKED on lattes. Hooked. Actually, I want one right now....I've been a user for only 2 months. Please tell me this gets easier. I mean, right?
Though I have given into a lot of trends in the past, there is one current technology that I absolutely refuse to use: electronic books. I was recently in Indy for NCAA Women's Final Four Basketball. There was a Borders Bookstore that was in it's last days of business (last 3 days, to be exact). For 3 days, I walked in front of the tall glass windows that exposed the empty shelves and displayed over-sized yellow posters that reminded readers, "3 Days Left!" I looked away, sad. I was witnessing the death of books-the experience of reading as we know it. Are we 'okay' with this?, I thought to myself.
By no means would I classify myself as an "avid" reader, but I still enjoy the "experience": thumbing through the pages, folding the front cover behind the back, reading the corny dedications, and the subtle smell of the ink and paper. Hell, I'll even take the paper cuts if it means not losing one of the most important objects in the history of civilization.
We will wake up one day and say, "Remember way back when, when books were on paper? When we didn't have to charge them over night in order to read them in the morning while eating breakfast? When we didn't have to "turn them off" during take off and landing on our flight from DTW to LGA? When we could put old books in a box and donate them to a local school or lend a book to a neighbor or friend? When bookshelves actually housed, well, books? When glares didn't matter, and neither did available storage space.
Nah-I think I will pass on all of that. You can find me at Caribou Coffee, sipping a sugar-free pumpkin spice latte with skim milk and light whip. I'll be chillin' in my Uggs, skinny jeans, and listening to DMB on my iPod...flipping through the pages of the latest issue of The Week.
1. Uggs: The best thing to come from Down Under since Keith Urban. I made fun of them until I tried a pair on. I now have five styles. (In China, I slept in one pair for a whole week because my hotel was so cold).
2. Jeggings: For the record, I believe I was the first person in Michigan to own a pair. I bought them in Cambridge back in spring 2008...however, I didn't really wear them out until they became "cool".
3. DMB: I thought most people that listened to Dave Matthews were REALLY annoying (I went to high school with a lot of them). You know, the "Birmingham Hippies": drive BMW's, wear $200 jeans, but intentionally don't bathe or wash their hair in order to feel more connected with homeless people. Well, freshmen year of college changed all of that-I was exposed to The Lilywhite Sessions. Bonfires-drinking games-snowboarding...good times. I love DMB. There, I said it.
4. Skinny Jeans: Don't knock them until you try on a pair. I'm just sorry I waited so long. I didn't want to wear them when I was actually "skinny", and now...well...(sigh).
5. Fancy Coffee Drinks: This has been a recent thing for me. I could not STAND coffee until I had no choice while I was on the road. Literally a few hundred dollars later, I'm HOOKED on lattes. Hooked. Actually, I want one right now....I've been a user for only 2 months. Please tell me this gets easier. I mean, right?
Though I have given into a lot of trends in the past, there is one current technology that I absolutely refuse to use: electronic books. I was recently in Indy for NCAA Women's Final Four Basketball. There was a Borders Bookstore that was in it's last days of business (last 3 days, to be exact). For 3 days, I walked in front of the tall glass windows that exposed the empty shelves and displayed over-sized yellow posters that reminded readers, "3 Days Left!" I looked away, sad. I was witnessing the death of books-the experience of reading as we know it. Are we 'okay' with this?, I thought to myself.
By no means would I classify myself as an "avid" reader, but I still enjoy the "experience": thumbing through the pages, folding the front cover behind the back, reading the corny dedications, and the subtle smell of the ink and paper. Hell, I'll even take the paper cuts if it means not losing one of the most important objects in the history of civilization.
We will wake up one day and say, "Remember way back when, when books were on paper? When we didn't have to charge them over night in order to read them in the morning while eating breakfast? When we didn't have to "turn them off" during take off and landing on our flight from DTW to LGA? When we could put old books in a box and donate them to a local school or lend a book to a neighbor or friend? When bookshelves actually housed, well, books? When glares didn't matter, and neither did available storage space.
Nah-I think I will pass on all of that. You can find me at Caribou Coffee, sipping a sugar-free pumpkin spice latte with skim milk and light whip. I'll be chillin' in my Uggs, skinny jeans, and listening to DMB on my iPod...flipping through the pages of the latest issue of The Week.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Stop with the Baby Talk, People....
I tightly griped the little white ticket in my right hand-number 31.
Next to me stood a middle-aged man wearing Dockers and a white Oakland Hills Country Club polo. I was not sure what number he held. The woman to my left, was balancing a watermelon on her hip, and carefully eyeing the various pasta salads (as her 3 children pounded the bags that lined the deli case, filled with pita bread).
"What else may I get you, Ma'am", asked the older black woman behind the counter. She had kind eyes.
"Um....well...what is the difference between THAT pasta salad and THAT one?". The Mother pointed in the general direction of the pasta salads, as she began to round up her crazy children.
"This one has a very robust Italian dressing, while THIS one is a bit sweeter", said the woman behind the counter.
"I see...well, let me ask the kids". The Mother turned to her 3 brats, as they continued to pound the pita chips and bread, and in a slow, soft, and painfully annoying voice asked, "Guys.....what kind of salad to you want?"
I immediately looked at the man standing next to me, as he very deliberately shifted his weight from his left side to his right. He looked down at his ticket and let out a quick burst of air.
"I WANT DAT ONE", replied the youngest of the kids. She was maybe 4 years old-hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and wearing bright pink Crocs. The little girl pointed to the bowl with the rose colored fluffy stuff, garnished with marshmallows.
"Isabelle, Mommy is not going to get that for the picnic. That is only for dessert. What pasta salad to you want?"
"THE ONE WE HAD AT GRANDMA'S", yelled the middle child. He was probably 7 years old, but super tall. Tall enough to press his head on the glass and gaze DOWN at the selections.
The Mother, still cradling the watermelon, brushed her bangs from her eyes and said, "Okay...let's see....maybe let's do 1 lb of the sweeter salad?"
"Okay, sounds good", the woman behind the counter firmly stated.
I folded the white piece of paper, with my number, in my hand.
The third child was beating her tiny hands against the glass, "Mommy, I wanna go to the pool", she whined. The other two kids resumed their bread beating.
The woman behind the counter removed a clear plastic container from the top of the deli case, and began scooping out the sweeter pasta salad.
"You know what, I better have the kids try this to make sure it's the right one", the Mother thought out loud.
The woman behind the counter, mid-scoop, put down the serving spoon and glanced up at the Mother.
"Okay, no problem", she stated.
Oh, but there WAS a problem. At that moment, the man from the Country Club crossed his arms and placed them over his stomach, in one fast motion.
The woman behind the counter handed a small white plastic spoon over the counter to the Mother. "Here is the sweet one", she said.
"KIDS! Get over here...try this one...this is the one that Grandma has. I think....do you like it?" The Mother's bangs had again fallen in her eyes.
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING, I thought. Memorial Day and this lady is acting like she's at Costco on a Sunday afternoon....grazing on all of the finger foods that tempt weekend warehouse shoppers.
"THIS IS BAD", proclaimed the youngest child. "YUCKY, YUCKY, YUCK-EEEEEE", and she continued pounding the bread bags.
"But honey, don't you like the salad that Grandma always gives you guys?".
"I WANT TO TRY IT", demanded the oldest child. She was quiet up until this point.
The woman behind the counter again reached into the glass case, and pulled out a small white plastic spoon. "And this is the robust one", she explained.
The oldest child, maybe 9 years old, loosly gripped the spoon allowing a few chopped peppers to fall to the ground. Without hesitation she placed all of the spoon's contents into her mouth. "THIS IS SPICY, MOM."
The man from the Country Club decided to browse the dairy aisle 10 feet away, picking up blocks of blue cheese and then putting them down again.
"Kids-which one do you want. Come on, we need to get to the pool", said the Mom in a desperate manner.
WE NEED TO GET TO THE POOL!? ARE YOU KIDDING, LADY!? Glad to think the world revolves around you and your annoying kids, but it doesn't! Sorry that you think the WHOLE store actually cares about what pasta salad Grandma keeps in her fridge. Since when is a 4 year old a pasta salad expert? Put it on their plate, if they are hungry they will eat it. If they don't, give them a juice box and Teddy Grahams and MOVE ON.
The Mother set the watermelon down on, you guessed it, the bags of pita bread. "Let's just do 1 lb of the sweet and 1 lb of the robust", she requested.
"Okay, then". The woman behind the counter agreed.
The man from the country club joined us again. He was clearly frustrated. The poor guy probably just wanted a lb of potato salad or spinach dip. He probably knew what he wanted before he approached the deli case. Hell, before he even left the house! He was most likely ONLY shopping on Memorial Day because his wife forgot to make a dish to pass, was busy shaving her legs for the first pool day of the season, and made her husband go shopping. "I'll be ready by the time you get home", were most likely her last words.
I knew what I wanted. I just wanted 2 lbs of spinach dip. From there, I would walk 4 aisles over to grab a case of beer. I hope they have Blue Light Lime.
The woman behind the counter placed 2 full containers of pasta salad on top of the deli counter. "Anything else today, Ma'am", she asked.
"No....", the Mother hesitated as she took one last look of the various pasta, fruit, and potato salads. "No, that's it. Thanks".
She picked up the watermelon, and stacked both containers in her left hand. "Let's go guys". Her children, who had completely destroyed all of the pita chips and wrinkled the top layer of bread bags, skipped behind her. Shortly after, they raced to the check out lines.
"Number 30, you're up, what can I get for you number 30".
The man from the country club stepped up to the case, "I'll have 3 lbs of the sweet coleslaw", he said. Direct and to the point. He slowly turned around to look at me, "Finally", he said.
"Are you sure that is what Grandma has?", I asked.
We both laughed, and shortly after I grabbed my 2 lbs of spinach dip and soon found myself next to the pool. Finally.
This whole ordeal was nothing new to me. What is it with parents that think it's cute or appropriate to BABY talk with their children OR consult them like professionals when it comes to decisions at the deli counter.
This happens a lot at bagel stores. One time a 30 something guy, with his 3 year old son, spent 10 minutes at Einstein's-ordering alone! "TELL THE NICE LADY WHAT YOU WANT, HONEY".
"I......I........I.....(9 minutes later)...I...WANT......CHOCOLATE MILK"
The Dad, clearly proud of his prodigy child for being able to form a sentence, giggles. The high school kid behind the counter awkwardly grins as the line behind the guy grows longer.
"Your total is $5.24, sir", says the manager at the register.
"Now, give the lady the money...."
As the toddler drops the money on the counter, coins falling over the edge, everyone else in line thinks you are annoying.
Your kid is not cute, and no one really has any interest in him unless he can be toasted and smeared with veggie cream cheese. I mean, right?
So parents of the world, PLEASE don't be THAT person. The American public understands your goals of educating and socializing your children. From money matters to cultivating taste buds, that is all great. Do it at home, because the people in the LONG line behind you simply don't care.
Next to me stood a middle-aged man wearing Dockers and a white Oakland Hills Country Club polo. I was not sure what number he held. The woman to my left, was balancing a watermelon on her hip, and carefully eyeing the various pasta salads (as her 3 children pounded the bags that lined the deli case, filled with pita bread).
"What else may I get you, Ma'am", asked the older black woman behind the counter. She had kind eyes.
"Um....well...what is the difference between THAT pasta salad and THAT one?". The Mother pointed in the general direction of the pasta salads, as she began to round up her crazy children.
"This one has a very robust Italian dressing, while THIS one is a bit sweeter", said the woman behind the counter.
"I see...well, let me ask the kids". The Mother turned to her 3 brats, as they continued to pound the pita chips and bread, and in a slow, soft, and painfully annoying voice asked, "Guys.....what kind of salad to you want?"
I immediately looked at the man standing next to me, as he very deliberately shifted his weight from his left side to his right. He looked down at his ticket and let out a quick burst of air.
"I WANT DAT ONE", replied the youngest of the kids. She was maybe 4 years old-hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and wearing bright pink Crocs. The little girl pointed to the bowl with the rose colored fluffy stuff, garnished with marshmallows.
"Isabelle, Mommy is not going to get that for the picnic. That is only for dessert. What pasta salad to you want?"
"THE ONE WE HAD AT GRANDMA'S", yelled the middle child. He was probably 7 years old, but super tall. Tall enough to press his head on the glass and gaze DOWN at the selections.
The Mother, still cradling the watermelon, brushed her bangs from her eyes and said, "Okay...let's see....maybe let's do 1 lb of the sweeter salad?"
"Okay, sounds good", the woman behind the counter firmly stated.
I folded the white piece of paper, with my number, in my hand.
The third child was beating her tiny hands against the glass, "Mommy, I wanna go to the pool", she whined. The other two kids resumed their bread beating.
The woman behind the counter removed a clear plastic container from the top of the deli case, and began scooping out the sweeter pasta salad.
"You know what, I better have the kids try this to make sure it's the right one", the Mother thought out loud.
The woman behind the counter, mid-scoop, put down the serving spoon and glanced up at the Mother.
"Okay, no problem", she stated.
Oh, but there WAS a problem. At that moment, the man from the Country Club crossed his arms and placed them over his stomach, in one fast motion.
The woman behind the counter handed a small white plastic spoon over the counter to the Mother. "Here is the sweet one", she said.
"KIDS! Get over here...try this one...this is the one that Grandma has. I think....do you like it?" The Mother's bangs had again fallen in her eyes.
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING, I thought. Memorial Day and this lady is acting like she's at Costco on a Sunday afternoon....grazing on all of the finger foods that tempt weekend warehouse shoppers.
"THIS IS BAD", proclaimed the youngest child. "YUCKY, YUCKY, YUCK-EEEEEE", and she continued pounding the bread bags.
"But honey, don't you like the salad that Grandma always gives you guys?".
"I WANT TO TRY IT", demanded the oldest child. She was quiet up until this point.
The woman behind the counter again reached into the glass case, and pulled out a small white plastic spoon. "And this is the robust one", she explained.
The oldest child, maybe 9 years old, loosly gripped the spoon allowing a few chopped peppers to fall to the ground. Without hesitation she placed all of the spoon's contents into her mouth. "THIS IS SPICY, MOM."
The man from the Country Club decided to browse the dairy aisle 10 feet away, picking up blocks of blue cheese and then putting them down again.
"Kids-which one do you want. Come on, we need to get to the pool", said the Mom in a desperate manner.
WE NEED TO GET TO THE POOL!? ARE YOU KIDDING, LADY!? Glad to think the world revolves around you and your annoying kids, but it doesn't! Sorry that you think the WHOLE store actually cares about what pasta salad Grandma keeps in her fridge. Since when is a 4 year old a pasta salad expert? Put it on their plate, if they are hungry they will eat it. If they don't, give them a juice box and Teddy Grahams and MOVE ON.
The Mother set the watermelon down on, you guessed it, the bags of pita bread. "Let's just do 1 lb of the sweet and 1 lb of the robust", she requested.
"Okay, then". The woman behind the counter agreed.
The man from the country club joined us again. He was clearly frustrated. The poor guy probably just wanted a lb of potato salad or spinach dip. He probably knew what he wanted before he approached the deli case. Hell, before he even left the house! He was most likely ONLY shopping on Memorial Day because his wife forgot to make a dish to pass, was busy shaving her legs for the first pool day of the season, and made her husband go shopping. "I'll be ready by the time you get home", were most likely her last words.
I knew what I wanted. I just wanted 2 lbs of spinach dip. From there, I would walk 4 aisles over to grab a case of beer. I hope they have Blue Light Lime.
The woman behind the counter placed 2 full containers of pasta salad on top of the deli counter. "Anything else today, Ma'am", she asked.
"No....", the Mother hesitated as she took one last look of the various pasta, fruit, and potato salads. "No, that's it. Thanks".
She picked up the watermelon, and stacked both containers in her left hand. "Let's go guys". Her children, who had completely destroyed all of the pita chips and wrinkled the top layer of bread bags, skipped behind her. Shortly after, they raced to the check out lines.
"Number 30, you're up, what can I get for you number 30".
The man from the country club stepped up to the case, "I'll have 3 lbs of the sweet coleslaw", he said. Direct and to the point. He slowly turned around to look at me, "Finally", he said.
"Are you sure that is what Grandma has?", I asked.
We both laughed, and shortly after I grabbed my 2 lbs of spinach dip and soon found myself next to the pool. Finally.
This whole ordeal was nothing new to me. What is it with parents that think it's cute or appropriate to BABY talk with their children OR consult them like professionals when it comes to decisions at the deli counter.
This happens a lot at bagel stores. One time a 30 something guy, with his 3 year old son, spent 10 minutes at Einstein's-ordering alone! "TELL THE NICE LADY WHAT YOU WANT, HONEY".
"I......I........I.....(9 minutes later)...I...WANT......CHOCOLATE MILK"
The Dad, clearly proud of his prodigy child for being able to form a sentence, giggles. The high school kid behind the counter awkwardly grins as the line behind the guy grows longer.
"Your total is $5.24, sir", says the manager at the register.
"Now, give the lady the money...."
As the toddler drops the money on the counter, coins falling over the edge, everyone else in line thinks you are annoying.
Your kid is not cute, and no one really has any interest in him unless he can be toasted and smeared with veggie cream cheese. I mean, right?
So parents of the world, PLEASE don't be THAT person. The American public understands your goals of educating and socializing your children. From money matters to cultivating taste buds, that is all great. Do it at home, because the people in the LONG line behind you simply don't care.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Way to be creative AT&T....NOT
Dear AT&T,
You are so creative.
Love,
The World
Current AT&T commercial: (apparently receiving a lot of praise)
Michael Bay's Elevator Fantasy commercial for Levi's. Came out in the early 90's. (I remember this because I bought the Partridge Family cd and played this song, OVER and OVER again. I was in like 6th grade. I still love this song and commercial by the way)
You are so creative.
Love,
The World
Current AT&T commercial: (apparently receiving a lot of praise)
Michael Bay's Elevator Fantasy commercial for Levi's. Came out in the early 90's. (I remember this because I bought the Partridge Family cd and played this song, OVER and OVER again. I was in like 6th grade. I still love this song and commercial by the way)
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
A letter to ABC News re: Haiti Earthquake
Dear Robin Roberts and ABC News,
It's been a little over a week since the Haiti earthquake rocked the capital, Port-au-Prince. It's good to know that you, Diane Sawyer, and the "others" are keeping things under control down there. Oh wait, you're not?
Well,thank you for still going through hair and make up at 5 am every day. I can only imagine how dire your situation is down there-the heat, the humidity, the smell of dead bodies. A far cry from the comforts of the New York office and studio.
I sleep better at night knowing that you still have some of the amenities from home, though. Food, water, SUV with tinted windows, and my favorite, Skype. Thank you for informing the American people that Haiti is currently without power, clean water, food, and much needed medical supplies. We had absolutely no idea. Thank for you repeating this every single night...I didn't watch the news on Monday, and nearly forgot. Thanks for reminding me, phew.
Thank you for showing immoderate levels of footage from the tarmac. Look at all of those planes FILLED with food, water, and medical supplies. Why are they just sitting there?! Oh, you just asked that same question...10 times. I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the violence and acute unrest that is happening in the surrounding area. Are the volunteers just lazy? Why do you keep showing pictures of them just standing around the airport? Are they waiting for a bus, or maybe the US Military to arrive to secure the area before they deploy help. Nah...they are probably just lazy. Thank you for calling them out.
Robin, thank you for identifying an issue that matters most to the American people: a 4-year old Haitian girl named Esther. It was so very thoughtful of you to take time out of your busy report to seek out a child that is waiting to be adopted by a young couple from Pella, Iowa. A 5 minute segment would not have been nearly enough time to illustrate the emotion and delicacy of this dramatic situation. Thank you, and your producers, for dedicating SEVERAL nights to this matter. I think I can speak for the American People when I say, "Thank You". Thank you for focusing on the issues that matter MOST-getting Esther back to the United States.
How are you doing with the heat down there? Is your memory okay? I hope so. Just in case it's not, here is a clip for you to reference:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBGm0SSdUQU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=60Uo0kDbSwk
My favorite part of your report was when you touched young Esther's back and said, "Mommy and Daddy love you, Esther. They said they are going to come to get you soon". You can't script that now, can you? Oh wait-you did? Oh...well, good delivery and tone, Robin.
I, along with millions of American viewers, formed quite the attachment to little Esther. I was not content in only knowing that Esther did not receive any injuries, was well cared for, and had clean water. I needed to know for CERTAIN that Eshter made it home with her adoptive parents...immediately.
Thank you for the live footage of Matt and Amy (Esther's soon to be parents), driving in an SUV to the American Embassy. I'm glad they got to "skip the line" when they arrived there. I heard thousands of people were waiting in line for days in the hot sun, without food or water. Golly-can you imagine? Good thing Esther did not have to go through that!
I found it interesting that your co-worker, Diane Sawyer, mentioned that some Haitians were outraged that rescue efforts were directed toward Hotel Montana, the UN, and other 'areas of interest' to The United States. I always thought a human life was a human life...
Tonight when you report, I look forward to hearing updates about little Esther and her new life in Pella, Iowa. While the camera pans over areas of destruction, human despair, and young children (parent-less and dying), amidst the rubble of Port-au-Prince, I hope it does not upset the American people too much. After all, we have "small victories" like Esther's to keep the faith, right?
Sincerely,
Rachel
It's been a little over a week since the Haiti earthquake rocked the capital, Port-au-Prince. It's good to know that you, Diane Sawyer, and the "others" are keeping things under control down there. Oh wait, you're not?
Well,thank you for still going through hair and make up at 5 am every day. I can only imagine how dire your situation is down there-the heat, the humidity, the smell of dead bodies. A far cry from the comforts of the New York office and studio.
I sleep better at night knowing that you still have some of the amenities from home, though. Food, water, SUV with tinted windows, and my favorite, Skype. Thank you for informing the American people that Haiti is currently without power, clean water, food, and much needed medical supplies. We had absolutely no idea. Thank for you repeating this every single night...I didn't watch the news on Monday, and nearly forgot. Thanks for reminding me, phew.
Thank you for showing immoderate levels of footage from the tarmac. Look at all of those planes FILLED with food, water, and medical supplies. Why are they just sitting there?! Oh, you just asked that same question...10 times. I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the violence and acute unrest that is happening in the surrounding area. Are the volunteers just lazy? Why do you keep showing pictures of them just standing around the airport? Are they waiting for a bus, or maybe the US Military to arrive to secure the area before they deploy help. Nah...they are probably just lazy. Thank you for calling them out.
Robin, thank you for identifying an issue that matters most to the American people: a 4-year old Haitian girl named Esther. It was so very thoughtful of you to take time out of your busy report to seek out a child that is waiting to be adopted by a young couple from Pella, Iowa. A 5 minute segment would not have been nearly enough time to illustrate the emotion and delicacy of this dramatic situation. Thank you, and your producers, for dedicating SEVERAL nights to this matter. I think I can speak for the American People when I say, "Thank You". Thank you for focusing on the issues that matter MOST-getting Esther back to the United States.
How are you doing with the heat down there? Is your memory okay? I hope so. Just in case it's not, here is a clip for you to reference:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBGm0SSdUQU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=60Uo0kDbSwk
My favorite part of your report was when you touched young Esther's back and said, "Mommy and Daddy love you, Esther. They said they are going to come to get you soon". You can't script that now, can you? Oh wait-you did? Oh...well, good delivery and tone, Robin.
I, along with millions of American viewers, formed quite the attachment to little Esther. I was not content in only knowing that Esther did not receive any injuries, was well cared for, and had clean water. I needed to know for CERTAIN that Eshter made it home with her adoptive parents...immediately.
Thank you for the live footage of Matt and Amy (Esther's soon to be parents), driving in an SUV to the American Embassy. I'm glad they got to "skip the line" when they arrived there. I heard thousands of people were waiting in line for days in the hot sun, without food or water. Golly-can you imagine? Good thing Esther did not have to go through that!
I found it interesting that your co-worker, Diane Sawyer, mentioned that some Haitians were outraged that rescue efforts were directed toward Hotel Montana, the UN, and other 'areas of interest' to The United States. I always thought a human life was a human life...
Tonight when you report, I look forward to hearing updates about little Esther and her new life in Pella, Iowa. While the camera pans over areas of destruction, human despair, and young children (parent-less and dying), amidst the rubble of Port-au-Prince, I hope it does not upset the American people too much. After all, we have "small victories" like Esther's to keep the faith, right?
Sincerely,
Rachel
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