Earbuds, Cinnamon Crimes, Tap Water Faux Pas
Innovation
I don’t like to complain, and I appreciate all the solid work they’ve done over at Apple with the earbuds.
But they still haven’t solved taking your shirt off without losing one.
Household Issues
I haven’t read many divorce decrees, but I’ve got to believe more than a few say: kept putting the cinnamon right next to the turmeric.
I don’t like cutting open a pepper, because once you do, the clock starts.
So instead, I leave it untouched until it goes bad and I end up throwing the entire thing away.
I guess I prefer a full, dignified waste.
Meetings
Only two people need to be in a meeting.
Kenneth and like, Stephanie.
The rest of us are on mute going, why didn’t Ken just call Stephanie?
But there we all sit. On camera. Reading our emails. Hoping no one mentions our name.
Ordering Out
Everyone has jobs in their family. Mine is ordering out.
It’s fine, but when I’m doing it, my wife takes a lot of liberties with my interaction and the restaurant. I think she believes these people are just waiting around for us to call and workshop the menu.
It usually goes like this:
Me: I’m going for bagels. What kind would you like?
Wife: Ask them which ones are fresh and call me.
Me: No problem. I’m sure the line of twelve people and overwhelmed cashiers won’t mind.
Or like this customized request, when calling in an order for Mexican food:
Me: Hello, yes, I’d like to order a chicken chimichanga.
Restaurant: Okay.
Me: But could you make sure there is enough chicken in this one? Last time, my wife said it was a bit thin.
Restaurant: You want double chicken?
Me: Nope. Nope. Just the standard allotted chicken, entitled by the order.
A pause. Some screen tapping.
Restaurant: Okay.
Me (taking a deep breath): I’d also like to replace red beans with black beans.
Restaurant (hung up).
Are you thirsty?
We live in the most hydrated society in human history, and yet we’ve decided tap water is socially unacceptable.
You can’t give someone a glass of water. Every home now needs bottled water on hand, just in case a guest forgets the five liquids they brought with them in the car.
You hand them a glass, they’ll look at you like it’s 1840 and you’re about to poison them with pond sludge drawn from a bucket.
The good news is no one’s dehydrated. Just suspicious.
Parents Vacation
My parents still vacation like it’s the 1990s.
They don’t book hotels. They just drive somewhere and try to find one when they get there. No reservation. Just relying on road ads and hope.
They do use GPS, but only at the very end. They’ll turn it on once they’re close.
How they determine they’re close is still a mystery to me.
They pack one suitcase. Not each. One. For a full week. Somehow it contains everything they need, plus room to bring something back.
When it’s time to eat, they don’t research restaurants. They’ll either ask the front desk or just walk outside and see what’s nearby. Shockingly, whatever is closest always has the best chicken parm they’ve ever eaten.
On paper, this should stress them out. I lose sleep just hearing about it—especially when they pull out the laminated map.
And yet, big picture, they have fun.
All while I’m reading reviews for rest stops.
See you soon,
— Ricky C.