The Salad Parable

As many of you already know, I wait tables at my second job.

As many of you already know, people drive me crazy.

As many of you already know, I made a poor job choice in this aspect.

When people ask me for more butter, more lemons, or more water it doesn't bother me. That's my job. But when I bring out a salad and the person at my table (and it is my table because we're required to bring them from home) takes a piece of lettuce with their fingers, holds it up to me with a condescending smile on their face, and says, "This doesn't look very fresh", I have to smile, apologize, and get them a new one. I'd much rather explain to them that slight discoloration is often caused by the amount of iron in the soil, but it wouldn't matter. In fact, they might get more upset that I'm more intelligent than they are, and that would somehow result in them getting a discount on their bill.

Even more than explaining agriculture to these kinds of customers, I'd like to give them a history lesson that would go something like this.

"Ah, I see you have brought the lettuce to my attention, sir. Your lettuce predicament reminds me of a tale from the paleolithic era."

At this point the lights in the restaurant would dim and tribal drums and flutes would begin to play.

"There once was a man by the name of Krag. Krag would sit near the cozy fire which burned in his community day and night until the rest of his tribe returned from hunting animals and gathering vegetation. When Krag was offered meat he would say, "Nay, I shall not partake in the eating of this meat, for it is underdone." The other people of his tribe shrugged and went back to eating. Later, when Krag was offered the collected vegetation he would say, "I cannot be expected to eat this vegetation, for it is somewhat shriveled and discolored." Once again the people of his tribe shrugged and went back to eating. Suddenly the community was attacked by inter-dimensional lizard-men. The members of Krag's tribe were all able to run away, but not Krag. He had grown fat and slow from never participating in anything except bitching about food preparations. The inter-dimensional lizard-men took Krag back to their king to eat for dinner. But the lizard-men king held up a hand and stopped his lizard-men. "Stop!" he shouted. "Surely you do not expect me to eat this man! For his penis is small, shriveled, and discolored. All lizard-men know this is the best part! Take him back to the kitchen, throw him into a trash can, and tell the starving children in Africa that we are so rich that we can do anything we want with our food!"

The lights would then come back on in the restaurant, the drum and flute band would disperse, and the customer would eat his god-damned salad.

The Omega Phone

Technology is moving at an abnormally fast rate. Someday your phone will not only be able to order a pizza for you, but it will spread wings, fly to get it, eat it for you, and then e-mail it to your iPad.

Someday touch screens will be dead. You'll just be able to think about what website you want to visit and your chosen piece of technology (phone, tablet, computer, or the eventual amalgamation of all three) will go there for you.

This leaves me with only one question: Why the hell are we so obsessed with things that have no effect on the quality of our lives?

This all starts with kids.

Kids always want what their friends have. They throw tantrums, punch holes in walls, and shit their pants until their parents are stupid enough to give in and buy them whatever toy it is they want this week because they think their kids will love them more if they buy it for them. Then these kids grow up spoiled and hating their parents because they were never taught discipline or monetary value. They become adults who call in sick to work, stand in line for 16 hours, rush into Verizon for the newest iPhone, discover there are only two left, stab the three people in front of them, buy both of them, sell one on eBay, and drive home while simultaneously updating their Facebook status and plowing through a wheelchair race.

And new technology pops up like acne on a fifteen year old because there's a market. We don't need it. There's simply a market of self-absorbed adults who used to be self-absorbed kids who want new self-absorbing toys (not to be confused with self-absorbing Brawny paper towels).

But who am I to say what's best for people? If you want to spend the rest of your life with your face in your phone that's fine with me. In the meantime, I'm going to start preparing for the enslavement of humanity by small rectangular robots that have plenty of exciting apps to keep you distracted while they lock you into contracts, charge you every time you press the number 6, and make you want to answer texts and phone calls in the middle of movies, communion, and sexual intercourse.

Ant Motel: The Parallel to the "No-Tell" Variety

I had an epiphany tonight. Strangely, I wasn't in the bathroom during this one. I was in the insecticide isle at the grocery store.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't like to kill anything (unless it's a bottle of Kiltlifter or Yoo-Hoo). I like to put things in perspective. For example, just before I eat a hamburger I wonder what it would be like for humans to be corralled, ground into little bits, and consumed by beings that don't give a fuck.

Tonight I was buying ant motels after our kitchen was plagued by ants. I thought to myself, "It would be strange to go inside of something, pick up a contaminant, and bring it back to our colony to spread to the others." And suddenly I realized that ant motels are no different than chlamydia.

The truth is I've been trying to fit chlamydia into a blog for about a month now.

Success!