February 26th, 2002

JOY

If it's really worth a million dollars, why is it taped to the wall?

Since Au Bon Pain (which, as I may have mentioned is French for “Oh, Good Pain”) can take their stale everything and their shitty attitudes and shove it up their scones; since Cosi is on the wrong side of the street; since the gourmet café in the hotel next door’s flavors are too weak and they never have enough; since Starbucks is just…well…Starbucks; and since all I really want in the morning is a huge steaming cup of greasy spoon mud, I get my coffee at Jack’s Deli. Jack’s Deli, self-touted home of the “Baked Mini-Tater” pours some tasty goddamn joe. The regular is stiff and dark, the flavors come in such delicious varieties as Chocolate Raspberry, Southern Pecan, and Swiss Chocolate Almond.

Hanging behind the register at Jack’s is a one million dollar bill. It has a picture of the Statue of Liberty in the center, 1, 000,000 written in each corner and some official-looking signatures scattered around in the proper places.

This morning was the first time I noticed it, as while I was paying, the lady on line behind me asked the cashier if it was real. The cashier, whose loose grasp of the English language didn’t matters, nervously laughed and continued with my transaction. The lady persisted. “I’ve never seen a bill that big before. Is it real?” The cashier laughed and shook her head gently again. The lady pressed on.

I doubt I need to break down the real issue at hand, namely just how stupid this woman must be. What has been perplexing me since is just what kind of job she could be able to hold with such minimal critical thinking skills let alone sheer gullibility. From what I can tell, she’s qualified for nothing and is just another one of those people, like the ones on the metro who walk slow, who really has nothing to do but mingles with the world at nine in the morning just to get in everybody else’s way.
  • Current Mood
    confused confused
JOY

Texan Former Beauty Queen seeks Alternative Housing

I'll be the first to admit that I don't always use my work email for work related things. However, I NEVER use the "DC Office All" email list, or do I ever "reply all" to anything. For a company that claims to have a policy against using work email for personal issues, solicitation, and other worthless stuff, I sure get a lot of emails begging for donations for such and such cause, reply-alls that just say "thanks!" and requests for specific information that most certainly does not apply to all people in the office and/or company.

Today, I get this:

-----Original Message-----
From: xxxxxxxxx
Sent: Tuesday, February 26, 2002 12:05 PM
To: DC Office
Subject: FW: pass me to the right people

If anybody can help me direct this person to some DC housing alternatives, I would appreciate it!

xxxxxxxx

-----Original Message-----
From: yyyyyy, yyyyy () [SMTP:yyyyy@yyy.com]
Sent: Tuesday, February 26, 2002 11:56 AM
To: 'xxxx@xxxxx.com'
Subject: pass me to the right people

Hi xxxxx:

Long story short....25 year old moving to DC, working on the Hill,
recommendations on housing. Does HW have a department or ideas where she
could find apartment, etc.

She is a former Miss Texas and top five in Miss America. Smart, classy and
I taught her in Sunday School and her parents are good friends.

Don't spend a lot of time but if you have an idea I would appreciate it.

---------------------------------------------------------

Good thing you said she's hot and christian or I'd have deleted this right away. I don't waste time at my job looking for apartments for ugly people, especially not ugly non-gentiles.

I waste time at work doing this.
  • Current Mood
    annoyed annoyed
JOY

Life Soundtrack

It's amazing how albums will become associated with memories, particulary memories of places. Smashing Pumpkins' Siamese Dream puts me in my old bedroom in New Jersey. I listened to Jonathan Fire*Eater's Wolf Songs for Lambs almost every day on my first Europe trip--now when I hear it, I'm immediately in a Belgain station, screaming at the sound of passing trains.

But I have to thank VJ and the fact that we were too lazy to mix up the trunk changer all that much while we were in LA this summer for the two latest place-memory albums. Every time I now listen to Tom Petty, we're riding up the coast to Malibu with the sun on my arms and the wind all over the place. Garbage's 2.0 puts me in Manhattan Beach, driving around at night with the cool of the air and the smell of the ocean.
  • Current Music
    LA at Night Music