Joelle said at some point on July 18, 2007
Does anyone actually use the phone book anymore? Like, the yellow pages? I can’t think of the last time I’ve used it or seen anyone use it. By now, it seems obsolete what with Google and that whole Internet and everything. It’s halfway through 2007. We’re almost finished with this decade and we’re still using the yellow pages? When I was a kid, I thought I’d be traveling in airlocks by now, not looking up Szechuan in the phone book.
I always loathe the day that the phone books come out because you know they will sit outside along with all your neighbors’ for a week while they sun fade and get all weathered. Eventually, you throw it away or someone uses it to re-balance their patio furniture or something. Would that money not be well-spent elsewhere? The amount of advertising that people pay to be put in the Yellow Pages could be used somewhere else, the amount of paper and trees they’re wasting by even printing them, the cost and the emissions of the gas used by all the delivery drivers that dump those piles of phone books on our doorsteps… it’s all a bit too much. I especially love that I don’t even have a land-line phone and I still get the local phone company yellow pages, along with about 3 others from competing companies. That’s effective.
Now I’m seeing commercials for the phone book. They’re clearly desperate to get people back to using the phone book. Why not give up the ghost and embrace technology? I suppose we have to account for the people who don’t have computers, but that’s what dialing 411 is for. If you’re that desperate to find a local shop that specializes in 3-D jigsaw puzzles, then call Information, suck up the quarter and don’t be a cheapskate. It’s still far less expensive than the cost of printing all those books.
Of course, we have to take into account those who can’t afford the quarter to call 411, but then they shouldn’t be shopping for 3-D jigsaw puzzles anyway.
Joelle said at some point on July 17, 2007
So, a few weeks ago, I swung through the McD’s drive-thru for some ungodly reason and ordered a mushroom burger. I get it home and it’s raw inside. Annoying, yes, so I call up the joint and give them my beef, so to speak. Jennifer the Manager puts my name on a list to get a replacement for free the next time I come by. I rarely eat at McDonald’s (especially since the McBone incident), so it’s taken me this long to cash in on that. I was at the post office yesterday and with McD’s right there, I hit the drive-thru to get my freebie.
I told them at the speaker that my name was on a list, but they put me on hold to get someone else. A couple minutes later someone else comes to the speaker and I give my order again. Then I pulled forward to the second window where I’m greeted by an extremely snot-faced girl with her hair greased so tight into a ponytail she looked permanently surprised. She also sported that little curl of fringe in front like she hairsprayed it and then used the curling iron. Her lipstick was a lovely shade of frosted raw porkchop, lined in what could only be described as dried blood. And I kid you not, her name tag said “Quanshunta”.
“Mmmkay, that’ll be… uh.... $6.48,” she said, as though I just had just awakened her from a coma.
I replied, “Oh… I’m on Jennifer’s list? This sandwich is just a replacement...” Her blue airbrushed talons came jutting out the window, dangling the white McDonald’s sack and she said, “OK, fine. Here!” as though my dialogue is keeping her from dealing with pressing matters of State.
Visibly holding a five dollar bill in my hand, I quickly said, “In the confusion, I’d forgotten to say I’d like to add on a Diet Coke —” but before I could finish, she cuts me off.
“We’re out of that,” she said, without missing a beat.
“Oh, I see. Well, I’m willing to pay for it.... Wait, you’re out of Diet Coke?” I said, a bit confused. “Are you really out of soda or are you just saying that so you don’t have to turn 45 degrees, stick a cup under a spout and press a button?”
I haven’t seen an eyeroll that over the top since I was in junior high. “Whatever!” she sighed and waved her hand, dismissing me.
I pulled away, muttering not-fit-to-print obscenities about her virtue under my breath and decided that not only was I no longer hungry, I didn’t trust that burger one bit. Quanshunta had “I spit in your food” written all over her. It could have been perfectly fine, but I wasn’t willing to risk it.
I’ll make my own mushroom burger. It’s better anyway. Damn you, Quanshunta. *shakes fist*
Joelle said at some point on July 15, 2007
I’m sitting outside BevMo right now sipping coffee, waiting for it to open. Is it odd to sit in front of a liquor store on a Sunday morning?
posted from my cell phone
Joelle said in the early morning on July 14, 2007
posted from my cell phone
It’s GFI’s birthday this weekend, so we decided to go out last night to this new supper club / jazz venue downtown called Anthology. They’ve only been open a month, but they have some pretty good acts coming through there, which usually require tickets anywhere from $15-$80 a pop, depending on the act and where you’re seated in the 3-tiered dining venue. As much as the words “dinner theater” tend to evoke images of Tony & Tina’s Wedding, the set-up in there is primarily dining, with a bar and small cocktail lounge area to the front of the building. Also, the dining is a separate cost from the tickets, so be prepared for that if you decide to go.
Last night it was the house band playing, so there was no cover. We got dolled up, had a glass of wine at home first then took a cab down to Anthology. As soon as we walked in, we knew we were in love with it. The inside is just gorgeous and the music was great. The house band was really solid and the female vocalist (whose name I can’t recall) had a smoky, soothing voice. They played some of my favorites and from our seat in the lounge, we had a perfectly clear view of the stage. There were also plasma TVs all over the place so you wouldn’t miss a thing. During the breaks, they would play vintage jazz performances on the screens, too. So awesome.
GFI and I decided to live on the edge last night, so we ordered a couple high-end appetizers just for kicks. We got Ahi tuna tartare with peddlefish caviar and a small potato “tot” thing. (Like a tater tot, but the potatoes inside were whipped, like a bite-sized twice-baked potato.) It was a true amuse-bouche, as we had almost exactly 2 bites and it was gone. Same for our second appetizer, which was a blue cheese quiche served with a cherry balsamic reduction, crumbled walnuts and a bit of pesto. Again, about 3 bites… but so worth it. Delicious. I’m just a pseudo-foodie, but the real gourmands would really dig the dishes here, I think.
Then came the cocktails: what was supposed to be just one glass of wine turned into 3 martinis, but hey, what can you do? We were celebrating! I had something called a Kind of Blue, which was Stoli Bluberi, fresh lemon, fresh blueberries, a blast of soda and a bit of simple syrup served on the rocks in a collins glass. I can’t wait to make that one at home. GFI had a Black and Blue Gimlet, which was gin, blackberries and blueberries muddled with a simple sugar and something else I can’t remember. It was a deep pink and really yummy. The next round, I decided to stick with vodka and had a simple Cosmopolitan. I rarely order those because bartenders tend to go heavy on the cranberry and I like my Cosmo’s really, really pale. This one was a bit dark, but it was really smooth and I suspect they have some secret ingredient. GFI had a momentary lapse of reason and ordered a Manhattan. That conversation went a little like this:
GFI: Ooo… I want a Manhattan! I’ve never had one before!
Me: *eyeing her* Dude, are you sure? Do you drink whiskey or bourbon much?
GFI: Oh sure! I was a tomboy. I used to drink whiskey sours. I can take it!! (she says, as she bangs her chest like Celine Dion)
Me: I see, so tonight you’re going to really grow a pair and have a Manhattan. Okaaaaay…
GFI: Well, they did it on Sex and the City!
I laugh only because I avoid “brown liquor” quite often. It has hangover written all over it, but GFI wanted a Manhattan and by god she was going to have one. I really wanted to see how she liked it. So, our drinks arrive and we toast. The next thing I hear is…
GFI: Damn! Now that’s some HOOCH!
I nearly fell off my very fancy barstool I laughed so hard. Hooch. And you know, she was right. I don’t care how elegantly you want to serve Jack Daniel’s, it’s hooch. There’s something about the smell that says “I should be drinking this out of a barrel”. Anyway, she asked me to take a sip to prove that it was, indeed, hooch. The smell alone was giving me flashbacks of nights in my mid-twenties spent on my bathroom floor thanks to Southern Comfort (there’s nothing comfortable about Southern Comfort — they lie.). But, I took the tiniest sip and declared that it would put hair on her chest, to which she replied, “No!! On my nads!”
Now, when a beautiful, exotic woman like GFI in her little Audrey Hepburn dress declares “No! On my nads!” with the more excited tone ever, it’s absolutely priceless. Assuming she meant the nads she grew earlier by ordering the Manhattan in the first place, and not pre-existing nads I was unaware of, it was damn funny. How many more times can I say nads?
Anyway, so we wrapped up the house band’s second set with a martini called After the Show, which was… uh… let’s see if I can remember… Oh! Stoli Vanil, Kahlua French Vanilla, Baileys, decaf espresso and a wee drizzle of chocolate inside the glass. I’m not one for dessert martinis or creamy drinks, but this was light and delicious. The perfect capper to our evening.
But wait! There’s more!
While out waiting for our cab to go home, GFI decides we’re going to Mr. A’s to have a glass of wine on the terrace so we can look out over the whole city. We’d both gone there as kids with our parents, so it was sort of nostalgic and really, the view from there any time of day, especially at night, is just breathtaking. We had the wine steward order us some fancy wine, which we sipped, took in the view and mocked the parade of Russian models strutting around with their bitchy mom who sounded like Donatella Versace.
Ahhh… good times. Anyway, if you’re ever in San Diego, you like tasty martinis and a really decent house band, go check out Anthology. Sara Gazarek will be there at the end of the month for two nights at reasonable ticket prices, if you’re interested.
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