Don’t brag you’re open Christmas Day
Nothing warms a heart as much as knowing America’s favorite steaming cup of capitalism is open on the ONE day a year almost all of America powers down and reconnects with their humanity.
Congratulations, you’ve cornered employees into choosing what’s more important: their family or their barely-above minimum wage job. All so yuppies, and their wannabes, can get their favorite over-priced drink on their way to spend time with their families.
Merry Christmas…
TJSky’s Hurricane Irene Report
Irene and her over-estimation and over-reaction is thoroughly boring. The mass panic has entertaining potential, but in general it’s just been one big pain in the ass. Yesterday, at my day job, I actually had a client use the impending doom of Irene, and their need to be at the grocery store at the exact time of their appointment, to inconveniently reschedule late that evening.
At my home in Falls Church, Virginia, I went to the local chain grocery store to stock up on non-perishables on Thursday. I’m not concerned about damage as much as I have very little faith in the energy company to keep my power up through the 30mph winds and functioning after days after.
I head down the beer isle and it’s inundated with men…only men, I was the sole vagina…gathering cases of their favorite brew. I went between choosing Heineken or Corona only to start considering the possibility of being on the hurricane ravaged streets of Falls Church. Me with a fancy bottle of beer that trumps the canned 22 someone down the street would be drinking. I didn’t want their envy to encourage the looting of my now relatively unsecured condo thinking I had good merchandise. After that passing thought, I grabbed a case of Miller Light cans and proceeded with my journey.
Bread was gone. Water was gone. Many cereals were gone. Carts were filled with random items and left in the isles as the employees had no time or opportunity (and didn’t see the value in spending the time) to neatly stock the shelves.
I went to the candy isle for trail mix and it was filled with only fat women. All women. All size 22 plus. Needless to say no stray carts of merchandise were left in the isle so passing through the ocean of chocoholics was possible. I noticed a lot of those large candy bars…not King Size, those one pound bars I often wonder who purchases…were depleted.
I gathered all the food I had ventured out for except for Slim Jims, bottled water, and lighters. I go to one of the winding checkout lines and wait for a good 25 minutes to check out; all the while dodging the “cutting in line” attempts of two separate Asian men of small stature.
After leaving I went to the convenience store next door. It wasn’t busy and had the random items I needed. I go to the counter to pay for my items: 6 Slim Jims, 4 lighters, 2 boxes of pizza rolls, and a case of water. If that’s not a pothead food survival kit, then nothing is. The cashier looked at my items, looked at me, looked at my items again, and sighed with an eye roll as she scanned and bagged my purchase.
Reports from a colleague in Ashburn, Virginia, said that Thursday her local grocery store had plenty of non-perishables and water in stock but yogurts and shredded cheese were wiped out. Specifically shredded cheese. I would understand if the tortillas were also sold out too. Instead somewhere people will be popping mouthfuls of shredded cheddar like big league chew gum.
Reports from a friend in Dundalk, Maryland, is that several liquor stores are sold out of fine products such as Bud Light and Natty Boh. The North Point Wal-Mart and several grocery stores are sold completely out of soda. However, water is in full supply at aforementioned retail locations.
Reports from the television indicate that reporters are disappointed by the relatively uneventful storm, as they were from the week’s earlier uneventful earthquake, and wish they had a larger vocabulary to describe the current conditions with more than the same three sentences over and over again.
Pardon me as I break to crack open a can of Miller Lite and enjoy the view of the rain…
…I think I just saw a paper bag tumble down the street! Quick, Hon, grab the video camera!
My Independence Day Everyday
Independence Day is when we as a country celebrate our success in breaking from Great Britain. Cynically enough, can also be viewed as the start of our own self imposed slavery. Not white or black, but political.
How do we break from political slavery? At this point, I don’t think we can. Maybe the entire web will collapse and there will be a chance to rebuild. Who has time to wait for that?
True independence is waking up and loving the one you are with, grabbing your daughter to give her a hug, making the perfect s’more, laughing so loud three tables in a restaurant look at you, and having a carpet picnic on a raining day with a dollar rental movie.
Those are freedoms that we can enjoy in this country; that the government has yet to touch. Those are freedoms that fill us with the happiness we may as well enjoy because there’s no point living in misery, complaints and bitchiness.
As “productive members of society,” we can’t escape big brother, we can’t escape our bosses, and we can’t escape our technological and financial entanglements.
But we can fill the moments in between with laughter, love, and unapologetic playfulness. Celebrate that spirit everyday.
Happy 4th of July…go have a good belly laugh and pass out some hugs.
ABC Stores: Commentary
Kalen J.’s Review
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Review from Kalen J.
ABC Stores are yet another reason to be bitter while living in Virginia. Hardcore government regulated? Please. What is this? 1920?I don’t know about other cities, but liquor stores (aka Adult Candy Stores) are the size of warehouses in Massachusetts; this may be explained by how Boston’s passion for drinking is only second to our passion for the Red Sox.
So imagine my disappointment when I found myself standing next to aisles even *I* could see over. Â Only ONE aisle for vodka? Only ONE aisle for rum? Where are the mixers? The kegs? The competitive SALES with the liquor store down the street? Where are the bags of ice?!
But reality is reality and I live here now. Believe me when I say I did my best to keep the bitching to a minimum, as I have had no choice but to frequent this local ABC. But after this past Friday, the gloves came off.
Like any other Friday night, I stopped to pick up a bottle of vodka and Jack Daniels. When it was time to pay, I handed the cashier a gift card that was acquired around Christmas.
“I don’t know how to use that,” she says and hands it back.
“Um. What do you mean?” I ask politely although confused.
“I haven’t read the instructions yet. Can you come back a different day?”Only one word could describe the look on my face: *Seriously?*
She proceeds to cancel my transaction and begins to ring in the people behind me. Now if you know me, you know it’s out of character to raise my voice or give someone attitude – but really, woman? WTF. Her nametag even read Asst. Manager.
She finally grabs the instructions and barely skims the 5 lines that explains gift card transactions. She tells me I’ll have to wait for the other person on duty to come back from the bathroom. Â In that amount of time, I read and understand the procedure myself and I’M the one who ends up walking them through it in the end.
Need I say it again?
*Seriously?!*