Taking Action

Dear Regency Hotel,

I am writing to you in complaint about the variety, or lack thereof, of chips in your staff vending machine. I have noticed that that the entire top two rows consist of greasy artifically flavored chips. In case you were unaware, Wheat Thins, a Nabisco Product, are available in the same individually packed, vending machine sized bags. In addition to the lack of Wheat Thins, I also have a problem with the sole existence of flavored chips in the vending machines. There is not one instance of plain chips in the vending machines. Plain chips are the essence of chip. Plain chips let the consumer decide on flavoring in selecting a dip or cheese spread. Flavored chips do not offer this option. You cannot simply scratch the red flakes off of a flavored chip, expecting to find a plain chip underneath. I hope that you take these comments into consideration upon the next restocking of the vending machine.

Healthily,

JR

False Advertising

Counter Guy: What can I get for you?

John: One toasted Everything bagel, please.

Counter Guy: Would you like to add Cream Cheese?

John: Shouldn’t that be included?

Blue Hands and Blue Laws

The temperature in New York has been in a steady decline for the last few days. According to weather.com, it was 6 degrees yesterday evening, but with the wind chill it was -8 degrees. Yesterday evening was the first time that I had to face the cold for an extended period of time. In this case, it was self-inflicted. On my way home from the city at 2:30 AM, due to an overzealous choice of train routes, I ended up in a 30 minute standing experience on the upper platform of an elevated Queens subway station, completely exposed to the elements, rather than in the underground station that the more conservative train route would have allowed. After the final arrival of the train and the subsequent ride to my station, I braved the 10 city block walk back to my humble abode at 2261 42nd Street. After reaching the warmth of the apartment, I began to thaw. I had never before had the feeling of thawing, but it is very similar to the feeling that your body gets upon immediately moving from a cold night-time swimming pool to a 100 degree hot-tub. The heat slowly seeps into your cold appendages, creating a feeling similar to that of a body part that has fallen asleep.

This moring, I took note of the sense of comradery that the weather situation seems to create among the people of New York. No matter what your financial situation, the weather will effect you here, and all residents of the city are in the fight together. If someone comes in from outside, they seem happy to update you about the weather situation.

A few hours later, in a sparcely packed subway car…

I observed a strange man in a red puffy NFL jacket yell at a girl and her boyfriend using foul language until they decided it would be best for them to leave the car. After this uproar, I looked over at another girl who was sitting a few seats away, also witnessing this experience. I gave her a look that included raised eyebrows with the implication, “What was that all about?” She looked away. Apparently there is not a sense of comradery between subway riders who both witness a crazy person in action.

As I rode the rest of the way home, thinking about the rest of the evening, I made the decision that I was going to get a six-pack of Dos Equis Lager and enjoy the tasty beverage in the comfort of my own home, perhaps even creating a beer garden on the frozen fire escape. I reached the beer aisle at the store, and after selecting my beverage of choice, proceeded toward the counter, where I was immediately greeted by the store clerk.

“It’s Sunday,” he said, and gestured toward my case of beer.

“Okay,” I responded.

“You cannot buy that here.”

“Why not?”

“It is Sunday morning, you cannot buy that until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Are you serious?”

And he was. After arriving home and looking the problem up online, I discovered that New York, as well as many other New England States, have “Blue Laws,” the origin of which dates to Puritan times. This particular law prohibits the sale of alcohol on Sundays, starting at midnight on Saturday evening. Apparently God does not approve of drinking on Sundays, unless you are drinking his blood with a serving of his body on the side. Strangely, God apparently has no problem with drinking in a roudy bar, since those are still open and serving until 4:00 in the morning.