The Problem’s Plain to See: Too Much Technology
What things annoy you when dining out at your favorite chow house? Bad service? Bad food, or worse the wrong food? A dirty bathroom? That screaming baby three tables away that’s up way past her bedtime? Perhaps you hate getting seated near the kitchen. All of these, at one time or another, have irked me. But all of them combined don’t come close to my greatest dining pet peeve. My biggest irritant is getting seated next to that odd couple that doesn’t talk during their entire dinner. They just sit there, facing each other, each one gazing just over the shoulder of the other one, trying painfully to avoid eye-contact. With each passing minute of silence their awkwardness expands like an invisible balloon until you feel it physically pushing against you in your own seat. Oh man, it kills me. I just want to pick up my fork, pop that silence balloon and demand, “Say something, goddammit!”. Honestly, I think I’d rather sit next to a party of loud talkers and cell phone squawkers than endure the pain of another couples lifeless social grace. Just to be clear, I’m not talking about lovebirds here, these aren’t newlyweds gazing longingly into each others eyes. This isn’t a warm soft rock candlelight ballad. No, this is pure, unflinching, raw sadness; the kind that can turn your food cold in the short time it takes the waiter to bring it from the kitchen to your table.

I got another pet peeve that I have to get off my chest. This one’s a bit more irrational but it bugs me all the same. And I ran into it several times last night. It bugs me when business storefronts, that have light-up signs displaying their name, have the bulbs burnt out in one or more of their letters. You know what I’m talking about. Like when a ‘Baskin Robbins’ reduces itself to ‘ask Rob’, or ‘Shoe Repairs’ breaks down to ‘ho ears’. I’m not exactly sure why this bugs me so much but it does. I mean, if I were the manager of such an establishment and an employee or a customer pointed out that my sign was deficient. I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I got that sucker fixed. Shit, I would probably keep a whole back-stock of extra letters incase one got maimed. Oh, and you know what bugs me even more(!), when the letters do get replaced but with a different shade of plastic, or *shudder* a different typeface!

The horror.

Ok. On the positive tip, on our way home from the restaurant last night, the song Mr. Roboto by Styx came over the radio. The misses called it after about two bars of the opening synth washes. We were like school girls bouncing in our seats, each taking turns turning up the volume when the song reached another one of its epic changes. Hot damn is that a fucking huge song. Huge song.

I’m currently investigating how I can get that song as my ringtone. Domo on your Friday.