Earlier today, I spent a fair amount of time doing laundry. I then left the house to run some errands, and while I was out, my dog fished a pair of my underwear out of the clean laundry basket and decided to use it as his newest chew toy.
The incident got me thinking, so I did a little research and discovered that a simple pair of cotton underwear is actually a whole lot cheaper than the average doggie toy. So I ask: would it be terrible to start buying my dog underwear in lieu of squeaky mice and rope chains? I mean, sure, it’s not the most appropriate thing to do, but there’s obviously something about women’s underwear that my dog just seems to like.
Oh, and if you’re thinking “hey idiot, it’s not the underwear he likes, it’s your, ahem, scent that he likes” – well, I hear you, but remember, the underwear, just like the rest of the clothing in that basket, was clean. My dog had his pick of socks, shirts, even a dish towel or two, but instead, he went for the underwear – bikini style, to be specific. And the thing is, he went about it so methodically, neatly pushing aside the other stuff in the basket in search of the black cotton panty prize. Seriously, he didn’t make a mess or anything. He saw me doing laundry, formulated a plan, and jumped on it the second I left the house.
Am I giving my dog way too much credit? Maybe, but the facts speak for themselves. And so the next time I find myself digging through the selection of overpriced chew toys at the local pet place in the hopes of finding a deal, I might have to resort to Plan B instead: an old pair of panties from the back of my drawer. Replacement cost: five dollars. Watching my dog walk around with my underwear between his teeth: priceless.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Plate sharing
One of my biggest restaurant pet peeves (yes, I've got a whole list of them) is the shared plate charge. Why do restaurants think that it's okay to charge extra for sharing a dish? It's my food, and I should be able to allocate it however I gosh darn please.
I mean, really, what's it going to cost you to have me share my super-sized portion of pasta with my not so hungry friend - half a cent extra in dishwasher soap, plus another penny for wear and tear on the added plate? Why don't you just build that into the cost of the meal and let me share my food without a hassle?
Now I think it's ridiculous to charge anything for plate sharing, but I've seen some places ask for as much as 5 dollars extra, which is total crap. I'm not asking you for more food, so why are you asking me for more money?
I’ve tried the strategy of foregoing the extra plate and simply eating off of the same dish as my food-sharing partner, but sometimes even that doesn’t work. I was once reprimanded by an uppity waiter for eating food off of a nearby plate and not ordering a dish of my own. “You know, normally we charge for that,” he had said. Really? You’re going to charge me for eating off somebody else’s plate. Imagine if places actually did that.
“Hey Debbie, can I have a bite of your dessert?”
“Sure you can…I’ll just tell the waiter to add fifteen cents to our bill.”
I wonder if restaurants would be willing to waive the extra charge if customers agreed to bring in their own plates. I might try that strategy the next time I dine out and feel like sharing. Man, didn’t we learn back in kindergarten that sharing is a good thing? My how times have changed…
I mean, really, what's it going to cost you to have me share my super-sized portion of pasta with my not so hungry friend - half a cent extra in dishwasher soap, plus another penny for wear and tear on the added plate? Why don't you just build that into the cost of the meal and let me share my food without a hassle?
Now I think it's ridiculous to charge anything for plate sharing, but I've seen some places ask for as much as 5 dollars extra, which is total crap. I'm not asking you for more food, so why are you asking me for more money?
I’ve tried the strategy of foregoing the extra plate and simply eating off of the same dish as my food-sharing partner, but sometimes even that doesn’t work. I was once reprimanded by an uppity waiter for eating food off of a nearby plate and not ordering a dish of my own. “You know, normally we charge for that,” he had said. Really? You’re going to charge me for eating off somebody else’s plate. Imagine if places actually did that.
“Hey Debbie, can I have a bite of your dessert?”
“Sure you can…I’ll just tell the waiter to add fifteen cents to our bill.”
I wonder if restaurants would be willing to waive the extra charge if customers agreed to bring in their own plates. I might try that strategy the next time I dine out and feel like sharing. Man, didn’t we learn back in kindergarten that sharing is a good thing? My how times have changed…
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Silence, on a train
I really can’t stand those New Jersey Transit riders who act like the train is their own private sanctuary that cannot be infiltrated by any type of noise. I was taking the train earlier today when my cell phone rang in the middle of my trip home. The conversation on my end – and I’m really not exaggerating here – went as follows:
“Hi...listen, I only have a second ‘cause I’m on the train…sure, 6:30 tomorrow sounds great…okay, will do…you too, bye.”
The whole thing lasted less than thirty seconds, as confirmed by the call timer built into my phone, yet somewhere in between me saying “I only have a second ‘cause I’m on the train” and “you too, bye,” the guy sitting next to me started staring at me as though I’d just admitted to taking pleasure in beating an already-wounded puppy. As soon as I hung up, he proceeded to tell me how completely and utterly rude I had been by taking a phone call in the middle of a crowded train and disturbing the silence he would’ve otherwise been able to enjoy.
Okay, first of all dude, it’s an evening rush hour train, not a library, so let’s not get crazy. Second of all, I come from the land of the New York City subway, where people not only talk freely and loudly on their cell phones, they openly blast their stereos or, in some cases, set up a 3-piece mariachi band right smack in the middle of the subway car. Where I come from, if you try to tell someone off for using a cell phone on a public train, then best case, you risk getting absolutely ridiculed, and worst case, you risk getting seriously beaten.
And while we’re at it, do you really mean to tell me that my quick conversation is more annoying than your incessant typing? We get it, Laptop Man. You’re an important person and you obviously can’t tear yourself away from your job for more than a couple of minutes…but considering the fact that my conversation lasted about 30 seconds whereas you’ve been typing on your computer ever since we started our fun little journey together, I can guarantee that in the grand scheme of passenger annoyance, you rank considerably higher than I do.
I mean, I’m obviously not a fan of those people who choose to spend the entire ride shouting into their cell phones at the top of their lungs, but that’s taking things to a whole other extreme. I would’ve even granted the guy next to me some leeway had it been early in the morning, but at 5:20 in the evening, nobody is obligated to uphold the Commuter’s Code of Silence.
A few minutes after my encounter with the opinionated gentleman, a woman in the row in front of us took a similar call. All I could hear of her conversation was “hi…I’m getting in at 5:41…great, thanks, bye,” yet Laptop Man spent the next consecutive 45 seconds shaking his head and rolling his eyes. In fact, he must’ve been so utterly appalled by this woman’s gross lack of consideration and her desire to not be stranded at the train station that he actually stopped typing for a couple of minutes, thereby granting me a break from the otherwise incessant keyboard clicking. And yes, I’ll admit that the clicking annoyed me, but I didn’t say anything. Why? Oh yeah, because the last time I checked, this wasn’t my own private train.
I’ve seen this happen a lot, where people get really mean and pissy the second you happen to get on the phone. I understand that having to take New Jersey Transit on a regular basis can make for quite the miserable existence, but don’t take it out on the rest of us. And besides, what if I happened to be taking the train along with a friend? Would we be obligated to sit there in silence for the entire 67 minutes of our journey? Here’s an idea: go out and get some noise-canceling headphones. Or, better yet, suck it up like everybody else, and once you get home, you can have all the Quiet Time you’d like.
My phone rang once again just a couple of minutes before the train reached my stop. Rather than get into it with Laptop Man, I simply silenced it, let the call go to voice mail, and then texted my friend something along the lines of “I’ll call you in a few, once I get off the train.” When I looked up, Laptop Man was at it again, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, even more agitated than before. To let out some of his frustrations, he began typing in a more pronounced, erratic fashion, which prompted the person behind him to stand up, tap him on the shoulder, and ask him to please type quietly, as the keyboard noises were apparently disturbing to those behind him who were trying to read.
Isn’t karma a wonderful thing?
“Hi...listen, I only have a second ‘cause I’m on the train…sure, 6:30 tomorrow sounds great…okay, will do…you too, bye.”
The whole thing lasted less than thirty seconds, as confirmed by the call timer built into my phone, yet somewhere in between me saying “I only have a second ‘cause I’m on the train” and “you too, bye,” the guy sitting next to me started staring at me as though I’d just admitted to taking pleasure in beating an already-wounded puppy. As soon as I hung up, he proceeded to tell me how completely and utterly rude I had been by taking a phone call in the middle of a crowded train and disturbing the silence he would’ve otherwise been able to enjoy.
Okay, first of all dude, it’s an evening rush hour train, not a library, so let’s not get crazy. Second of all, I come from the land of the New York City subway, where people not only talk freely and loudly on their cell phones, they openly blast their stereos or, in some cases, set up a 3-piece mariachi band right smack in the middle of the subway car. Where I come from, if you try to tell someone off for using a cell phone on a public train, then best case, you risk getting absolutely ridiculed, and worst case, you risk getting seriously beaten.
And while we’re at it, do you really mean to tell me that my quick conversation is more annoying than your incessant typing? We get it, Laptop Man. You’re an important person and you obviously can’t tear yourself away from your job for more than a couple of minutes…but considering the fact that my conversation lasted about 30 seconds whereas you’ve been typing on your computer ever since we started our fun little journey together, I can guarantee that in the grand scheme of passenger annoyance, you rank considerably higher than I do.
I mean, I’m obviously not a fan of those people who choose to spend the entire ride shouting into their cell phones at the top of their lungs, but that’s taking things to a whole other extreme. I would’ve even granted the guy next to me some leeway had it been early in the morning, but at 5:20 in the evening, nobody is obligated to uphold the Commuter’s Code of Silence.
A few minutes after my encounter with the opinionated gentleman, a woman in the row in front of us took a similar call. All I could hear of her conversation was “hi…I’m getting in at 5:41…great, thanks, bye,” yet Laptop Man spent the next consecutive 45 seconds shaking his head and rolling his eyes. In fact, he must’ve been so utterly appalled by this woman’s gross lack of consideration and her desire to not be stranded at the train station that he actually stopped typing for a couple of minutes, thereby granting me a break from the otherwise incessant keyboard clicking. And yes, I’ll admit that the clicking annoyed me, but I didn’t say anything. Why? Oh yeah, because the last time I checked, this wasn’t my own private train.
I’ve seen this happen a lot, where people get really mean and pissy the second you happen to get on the phone. I understand that having to take New Jersey Transit on a regular basis can make for quite the miserable existence, but don’t take it out on the rest of us. And besides, what if I happened to be taking the train along with a friend? Would we be obligated to sit there in silence for the entire 67 minutes of our journey? Here’s an idea: go out and get some noise-canceling headphones. Or, better yet, suck it up like everybody else, and once you get home, you can have all the Quiet Time you’d like.
My phone rang once again just a couple of minutes before the train reached my stop. Rather than get into it with Laptop Man, I simply silenced it, let the call go to voice mail, and then texted my friend something along the lines of “I’ll call you in a few, once I get off the train.” When I looked up, Laptop Man was at it again, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, even more agitated than before. To let out some of his frustrations, he began typing in a more pronounced, erratic fashion, which prompted the person behind him to stand up, tap him on the shoulder, and ask him to please type quietly, as the keyboard noises were apparently disturbing to those behind him who were trying to read.
Isn’t karma a wonderful thing?
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Flash flood watch
Has anybody else in the New Jersey area noticed this new trend of flash flood watches popping up every time the forecast calls for the slightest bit of precipitation?
Sure, I'm all about notifying the good people of this fine state of the high probability of heavy rain, but is a flash flood watch really necessary? See, maybe I'm overly-sensitive, but when I see the words "flash flood," I get a little antsy, especially if I know that I'm about to hit the road to do a whole lot of driving. Therefore, I'd appreciate it if the folks over at the National Weather Service could issue these watches a bit more sparingly. Of course, the more liberal they are when it comes to these warnings, the more likely we are to run into a classic Weatherman Who Cried Wolf situation - and considering the average level of intelligence amongst most NJ drivers, I wouldn't want to run into a situation where the Parkway starts retaining water and people are too stupid to take it seriously enough to get off.
And with that, I ought to go check the weather. I've got a long drive ahead of me, and I wouldn't want to head out before verifying that there's a flash flood watch in effect for me to ignore.
Sure, I'm all about notifying the good people of this fine state of the high probability of heavy rain, but is a flash flood watch really necessary? See, maybe I'm overly-sensitive, but when I see the words "flash flood," I get a little antsy, especially if I know that I'm about to hit the road to do a whole lot of driving. Therefore, I'd appreciate it if the folks over at the National Weather Service could issue these watches a bit more sparingly. Of course, the more liberal they are when it comes to these warnings, the more likely we are to run into a classic Weatherman Who Cried Wolf situation - and considering the average level of intelligence amongst most NJ drivers, I wouldn't want to run into a situation where the Parkway starts retaining water and people are too stupid to take it seriously enough to get off.
And with that, I ought to go check the weather. I've got a long drive ahead of me, and I wouldn't want to head out before verifying that there's a flash flood watch in effect for me to ignore.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Hot water
Ever notice that when it comes to your average shower, perfectly hot water is really hard to come by? I happen to like my showers hot; not warm, not kind of hot. Hot.
Unfortunately, hot showers rarely happen in my world. Almost every shower I’ve used over the past three years has failed to attain that ideal level of hotness in its water spray.
See, the problem is that in most showers, there’s a fine line between lukewarm and scorching hot. I’ll get in the shower, turn on the hot water, and give it a couple of minutes to reach its optimal warmth. Once that initial burst of warmth kicks in, I tend to need just a teeny tiny bit more in order to achieve the ideal water temperature – so I’ll take the knob and ever so slightly nudge it towards the hot section to up the temperature just a touch – and then bam: scorching hot water pours out. Not good.
I’ll then yank the knob back towards the cold side and start the process over again, this time treading the line even more finely than before – and the same thing will happen – and thus begins the vicious cycle of scorching-freezing-lukewarm, scorching-freezing-lukewarm, scorching-freezing-lukewarm, I give up.
Tell me, why are showers made this way? And furthermore, what’s up with some of those shower heads that have dedicated cold spray sections specifically designed to ruin an otherwise hot shower? It’s like 11 out of the 12 nozzles are spraying wonderfully warm water, but that one rogue spray jet feels the need to rebel by blasting out a steady stream of ice cold crap. Annoying.
I wonder if there’s a modern-day shower on the market that allows you to digitally program your water temperature. If not, then there should be. Sure, it would be crazy expensive, but totally worth it. After all, showering is an important part of every human being’s daily routine - or at least it should be. Can’t they make it just a little bit easier?
Unfortunately, hot showers rarely happen in my world. Almost every shower I’ve used over the past three years has failed to attain that ideal level of hotness in its water spray.
See, the problem is that in most showers, there’s a fine line between lukewarm and scorching hot. I’ll get in the shower, turn on the hot water, and give it a couple of minutes to reach its optimal warmth. Once that initial burst of warmth kicks in, I tend to need just a teeny tiny bit more in order to achieve the ideal water temperature – so I’ll take the knob and ever so slightly nudge it towards the hot section to up the temperature just a touch – and then bam: scorching hot water pours out. Not good.
I’ll then yank the knob back towards the cold side and start the process over again, this time treading the line even more finely than before – and the same thing will happen – and thus begins the vicious cycle of scorching-freezing-lukewarm, scorching-freezing-lukewarm, scorching-freezing-lukewarm, I give up.
Tell me, why are showers made this way? And furthermore, what’s up with some of those shower heads that have dedicated cold spray sections specifically designed to ruin an otherwise hot shower? It’s like 11 out of the 12 nozzles are spraying wonderfully warm water, but that one rogue spray jet feels the need to rebel by blasting out a steady stream of ice cold crap. Annoying.
I wonder if there’s a modern-day shower on the market that allows you to digitally program your water temperature. If not, then there should be. Sure, it would be crazy expensive, but totally worth it. After all, showering is an important part of every human being’s daily routine - or at least it should be. Can’t they make it just a little bit easier?
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