I really like televisionwithoutpity, but people who post that should be dragged out into the street and shot. First, they aren't watching it a "few more times", "a couple of times", etc. Nobody has that kind of time. Believe me, I should know. And, even if you WERE going to watch it that many times, why are you rushing to the computer to type that? just watch it again!

this all stems from my viewing of John From Cinncinati, which may be the worst television show in the history of time. After watching last week's episode, i rushed to the computer to figure out what just happened. What i got was three pages of "wow, that was incredible. i don't get it, but i'll need to watch it a few more times".

There's a difference between deep and confusing. At the end of the day, television (or any kind of art) is a form of communication. If the audience doesn't get the message, then you are doing a poor job in creating the art.

This show is becoming like a fanboy type of thing where the only people who are enjoying it are the ones who have the decoder ring and think they are "special" for putting the effort into translating.

I love how people claim that Jeter is a good defensive player even though it's impossible to watch defense with the current camera angles on TV. But, that's not the point of this entry. They had a pulled out angle just now to show Melky on third and Jeter on 1st (while Arod was up). A piece of wax paper was blowing around third base. The third baseman picked it up, and crumpled it. I was so curious to see what he would do with it. I was SHOCKED to see him stick it in melky's back pocket and then pat him on the butt. "is that the norm for garbage? is it assumed that the runners will just hold onto it?" Then melky took it out of his pocket and handed it Bowa (the third base coach). that made more sense, but why did the fielder not just give it to him directly? He seems like the most logical choice to hold garbage.

Also, apologies for not keeping my 30 in 30 promise.

it's gotta be something less retarded than "the game hasn't had it before", right? or the "what's next, robots calling balls and strikes, and even playing the game too?" argument.

Do people enjoy the randomness of bad calls? I wonder if a part of it has to do with the fact that the game is "fixed" in the sense that star players get better treatment (b/c stars sell tickets). If the game was objectively called, perhaps there would be more parity in the league.

"he elected to go with his closer here in the 9th; even though it's possible for the visiting team to have a save situation in extra innings. Now, if it goes extra innings, his options will be limited".

This was said in bottom of the 9th inning of a tied game....against the yankees....with abreu, arod, and posada up.

I've always been fascinated with ice cream trucks (and no, not just because they contain ice cream). First and foremost, I always wondered how the drivers don't go insane with that music playing over and over again. Isn't that how we tried to "smoke out" Noreaga back in the day? Whenever I walk by a truck playing that song, i'm involuntarily humming it within seconds. I imagine 4 consecutive hours of that would kill me.

Less interestingly, I've always had doubts about how the industry could turn a profit. Assuming the driver makes minimum wage, the first couple of ice creams sold (each hour) go to his salary. Then you have to obviously pay for the supplies. Driving at 5 miles an hour has to use a lot of gas, especially when you are a glorified freezer.

And how big is your customer base? I can't imagine anyone other than children, who are already outside, ever purchasing an ice cream. Is that a big enough market? What are these trucks used for in the winter?

Anyway, all of my questions are now pushed aside because i saw TWO ice cream trucks on the same street last night. About two blocks away. I could hear BOTH songs being played.

What's going on here? Hopefully, one was just a decoy for selling drugs.

If you think it's a manager's goal to try and win games, you would be wrong. His goal, just like every other employee's goal, is to not lose his job. Managers make decisions based on the path of least Resistance. They'll all trade a couple of extra losses for a lack of controversy in their decision making.

After a rain delay and 80 something pitches, Moose started the 6th inning. That's right about the time where Moose gets fatigued at this point in his career. Torre had to decide whether he should keep him in or go to his bulpen early.

Pulling Moose before he blows it leaves Torre open to speculation and criticism. Pulling him after Moose blows it puts the blame on the pitcher. If Torre really wanted to win the game, he would have probably pulled moose. But that's not his goal. His goal is to give the appearance that he's helping his team win. So that he can keep his job.

When I got home from work last night, the last 15 minutes of "the break up" was on. I was very excited b/c i had heard that the reason the movie failed do well in the theaters was due, in part, to the fact that it has a "sad" ending. I wanted to see if a big studio had the guts to actually have such an ending.

Color me disappointed (in myself) for the ending. I should have known that an American audience couldn't handle an ending like the UK's Office. Granted, they are technically "broken up" at the end, but there's no indication that the characters are dating anyone else, or even upset with each other. There's even a hint that maybe something could rekindle after they bump into each other on the street.

Blech.

After being angered by this, I was energized enough to watch Studio 60. Separate rant on that later.

When I turned the DVR off and went back to live tv, Mr. and Mrs. Smith was on. I left it on while doing other stuff, but I couldn't help get a kick out of the idea that, just maybe, jennifer anniston watched this movie at one point and became really upset. So then I had to watch it as though i was looking through her eyes...."oh yeah, i bet she felt really awkward after that scene" and such and such.

Then i realized the brilliance that is hbo. They played these two movies back to back! Bravo, Hbo, bravo!

I might be wrong, but I thought the end goal of going to college is to secure yourself a good job. Conventional wisdom sort of looks down on athletes who decide to leave school early to join the pros. Once again, CW is illogical and wrong.

The cliched cautionary tale is the athlete who leaves school early, gets injured, and then doesn't have an education to fall back on. If he had stayed in school, he would be more equipped to transition into the regular work force.

However, there are two types of college athletes: 1) athletes who are using college as the minor leagues of pro ball, and 2) athletes who would otherwise be smart and ambitious enough to get a college education even if they didn't play sports.

For the first type of athlete, it makes perfect sense to grab the money while you can. If there's a pro team who thinks you are ready, you'd be wasting your time in college. If the profession was ANY other field, the student would be laughed at for preferring what is essentially an unpaid internship over a paying job. If Bill Gates offered a computer programming junior a sweet gig, but with the caveat that he would have to start immediately, the kid would be an idiot to stay in school.

Let's say this athlete who decides to go pro gets hurt in his first year and is out of the league 6 months later. He'll have already made enough money to pay for a scholarship-less tuition to any college he can get in. And if he's not smart enough for a school to want him (sans athletic eligibility), then college would have been wasted on him in the first place. College degrees, on their own, are overated.

Now, for the second type of college athlete (the one who could actually succeed in a college classroom), college will be there if/when his pro career ends. There are plenty of people who go to college after the traditional 18-22 years. Nobody looks down on them. So what if this athlete/student is a couple of years behind? He will have made more than enough money to justify the slow start.

This is all a preface to my disagreement with Roy Hibbert's decision to come back for another year at Georgetown. The feeling is that right now he would be a 10th pick in the draft, but if he waits a year, he could move up to #2. First, this assumes that he'll actually improve on his game/success, which is always risky. But, it seems like he seems to be failing to realize that he's giving up a year of his earning potential.

[note: these numbers are off, because i could only find data for the 2005/2006 season which was the last season that rookies were locked in for 3 years (with a 4th year option) instead of the current 2 years (with a 3rd and 4th year options)]

If Roy Hibbert gets selected with the 10th pick, he will make 1.6 million in 2007 and 1.7 million in 2008.

If he waits a year and becomes the 2nd pick of hte 2008 draft, he will make 3.2 in his first year, and 3.5 in his second year.

However, what people forget to account for is that he'd be making 0 in 2007.

So, by the end of the 2008 season, the #10 pick Hibbert will have made 1.6+1.7 million (3.3) while the #2 Hibbert will have made only 3.2.

Of course, in 2009, the team's option on #10 hibbert will only be a raise from his 2008 season. So the #2 Hibbert will be making a lot more money than his counterpart. and the same will be true in 2010 (again assuming that both teams pick up the option)

The numbers get muddled, obviously, and even become more speculative when you account for endorsement deals and the like. Perhaps being the face of a championship winning georgetown would make Hibbert more marketable. However, the numbers are closer than people believe. and more importantly, the first million a person makes is the most important, because it becomes life altering. The difference between 7 and 5 million is negligible compared to 1 million and 0 (if he busts his knee and never makes it to the nba)

shoot, there was another point i wanted to make, but i completely lost my train of thought. that's actually a bit scary. Oh yeah...

Finally, I flat out dont' understand Hibbert's theory that being a middle first round pick would mean he would ride the bench but being a top pick means that he would be able to play immediately. I guess there is something to be said about getting more opportunities on a weaker team. However (and this is without any evidence), I feel like early picks are based on "take the best player available" and later picks are need picks.

More importantly, though, is that a player can definitely develop more in one season of NBA practices than in a 30 game college season. In the NBA, a player can give his entire focus to basketball. Even if he's not playing in "games", the practices can develop his skills.

Rookies tend to hit walls midway through the nba season becasue they aren't used to the grueling schedules. Plus, dominating in the college scene probably doesn't really develop your skills. You need to play against the best competition.

blah blah blah. this is too long. Short version: forget college and get drafted.

then his comment was very strong.

"Taverez will eventually move back to the bullpen, where he can help one of Boston's weaknesses."

[paraphrased].

So Boston has a weak bullpen? That didn't feel right, so I looked it up. Turns out their bullpen is 6-1 with 15 saves and the 2nd lowest ERA in the majors (and first in the AL). Kay works for the New York Yankees. His job is to inform tv viewers of the game. The Boston Redsox are the Yankees main rivals. Kay should know whether the redsox have a good or bad bullpen. It's not rocket science.

if there was something that was the antithesis of a "PS", i.e. a message that comes before the script, it would be "shut up!". That trumps all. Rick Sutcliffe needs to shut up during espn broadcasts.

However, the crux of this complaint is that Sutcliffe can be added to list of billions who fail to understand that correlation does not equal causation.

Here's what we know: Arod hit a home run in the first inning against Tim Wakefield. Johnny Damon was on second base when Arod hit the home run. Those two facts are correlated. They both existed at the same time.

Sutcliffe takes that extra step that all good and retarded color commentators make and assess the credit of the home run to Damon being on second base. Damon caused Wakefield to throw a pitch that would automatically be a home run. And what proof does Sutcliffe provide to defend this theory?

Damon is "fast". Damon stole second base. Wakefield looked at Damon. Wakefield even lifted his leg as though he were about to pitch but then turned towards second. He didn't go so far as to actually throw to second, but that must have been because his brain was so overloaded with all the information of DAMON IS ON SECOND BASE.

We can also infer that Sutcliffe wants to credit Damon for the homer, because of two reasons. 1) Even though chicks may dig the long ball, "scrappy" baseball players from "the good old days" hate the home run and LOVE small ball. And there's nothing smaller than a guy standing on second base taking an extra half of step lead.

and 2) it's arod. And arod is a bad person, who occasionally does good things, but only with the help of his teamates.

If someone wanted to do an actual statistical analysis of whether or not fast baserunners "disrupt" a pitcher, I think that would be a wonderfully interesting study. Oh wait, it's already been done, and the evidence shows that it's actually hitters, not pitchers who suffer slightly. This makes logical sense b/c a hitter is going to actually see the runner in his peripheral vision when he should be focusing on the ball, and he has the added pressure of not swinging through a pitch, or hitting a line drive, etc.

Of course, evidence or logic is no match for good old, "get your uniform dirty" small ball. So it's Damon who deserves the credit.

However, even if you take the incorrect theory as true, it's even less true (can something be more than "wrong"?) in Wakefield's case.

Tim Wakefield has been around forever. I'm pretty sure he was still with Pittsburgh when they were a playoff team. Yes, that Pirates team. Just think about how long ago you have to go back for the pirates to be a playoff team. Wakefield has won a world series with the Redsox. He's been in some of the most intense playoff battles in the past decade. He was on the mound when "Aaron F'n Boone" got lucky.

Tim Wakefield has been a Starter, a Closer, a Middle reliever, and back again. And oh yeah, he throws a knuckleball. Now i realize that Sutcliffe has never pitched a baseball in his life, but the thing with a knucleball is that you don't really throw it like a normal pitch. You don't have a million little things to worry about in your delivery. You just press the tips of your fingers on the ball and let it fly.

A knuckle ball pitcher really doesn't have "control" of the ball like a regular pitcher. You aren't aiming for the outside corner. The beauty and the curse of the knuckle ball is that it has a mind of its own.

So, with all that being said, HOW IN THE HECK CAN JOHNNY DAMON CONTROL THE PITCH FROM 2ND BASE??

The pitch that Arod crushed hung up high. Knuckle balls do that from time to time. If it was easy to pitch a knuckle ball, everyone would do it.

Ever since Suzyn Waldman gushed over Clemens' signing, everyone has been making fun of it. FJM, boston's talk radio, and even Mike and the Mad Dog. However, despite my pervese need to experience awkward moments (even though they make me feel uncomfortable), I couldn't listen to this. It drives me crazy when people are not self aware, and knowing that Suzyn has no idea how stupid she is would have really killed me. Every time she opens her mouth, it sickens me that she has a job....and she sounds so proud of her position with the Yankees.

Of course, everything changed with today's article detailing how mad she is that the Mad Dog for playing the clip. She said it has "ruined her life".

Well that just makes my day. So now i can listen.

"The archetypal anecdote about Ronnie Lott recounts the time, late in the 1985 season, when doctors recommended surgery to repair the tip of his left pinky finger. The 49ers' star defensive back didn't want to miss any playing time in recuperation, so he chose a simpler procedure. He had the finger amputated above the third knuckle. He didn't miss a down."

Sunday had it all. The terrifying lows, the dizzying highs, and the creamy middles. In no particular order (other than chronological):



At my suggestion, my cousin and I attempted to take out my grandmother for her birthday. Somewhere along the numerous coordinating phone calls, I got squeezed out of the plans. My grandmother suggested that they go without me!



Anyway, after many permutations, the final plans became a bbq at my cousin's house, which turned out to be a blast. Grilling simply is the greatest form of cooking. Everything tastes better outdoors. [this would be the dizzying high]



I came home pretty tired, moderately sweaty, and totally in the mood for some video games. It takes a lot to draw my attention away from Star Wars Battlefront II, but on a whim, I decided to get out of my comfortable recliner to see who IM'd me. [this is the creamy middle]



Color me shocked that the grey ghost, who can ignore an email like it has the plague, was actually proactively suggesting to hang out. So, i shut off the game in mid battle, and get ready to go out. A couple of shots and a quick game of wii tennis later, and we're off. And that's where things started to go downhill. [and now, the terrifying low]



As per the norm (when I'm in charge of directions), we had a bit of trouble actually getting to the bar. After a big loop around the downtown area (stupid "no turns" and "one ways"), we finally get to the bar.....which was closed. Plan B was the bar two doors down...which was also closed. Do people not drink on sundays? Religious zealots strike again.

Option three was that irish bar McDougals that I know I've walked to from school. However, it must have been in a parallel universe, b/c it was impossible to find, much less drive to, from where we were. After a couple of loops around (look kids, big ben), we gave up and decided to go to the market street bar (Plan D, for those keeping count).

Walking in Penn Station, Plan E started looking better than D. Plan E was that shady bar INSIDE penn station. You know the one...we've all looked in it walking by just to see what type of clientele frequents it. Lonely guys waiting for a train? Degenerates? Both?

Well, the guy I was with had a much different opinion of the bar. "It looks like a real party bar". What? Huh? That's one step away from calling it "The Place To Be" (tm Seinfeld). So what the heck, we give it a try.

A completely empty bar except for two guys in the back awaited us. But, they had a nice tv with the Yankee game on. After we got a run down of what's on tap (a nice selection btw), we order two. As our beers are handed to us, we're told "that will be 12 dollars". This bar, you see, was actually in the Newark section of Midtown NYC., apparently. In shock, I shakingly hand her my credit card and ask if we can start a tab. "sure, but it's a 20 dollar minimum."

Everything begins to slow down for me. I'm still reeling from paying 6 dollars for a beer, but also focused on the future rage that will ensue when i'm FORCED to order a second round.

When you are in a bar like McSorley's, and you realize there is no music on, it's a beautiful thing. When you are in an empty bar in the middle of a train station, and hanging your head in shame, music would be a welcomed addition. Of course, one should be careful of what one wishes for....when someone finally started playing music, it was that depressing country music that makes you want to shoot yourself.

And it was very loud.

Luckily, the person we were waiting for came early, so we asked for a check before I got my second beer. Even though we had spent 18 bucks (on three beers!), a comment was still made about the minimum for a tab. I honestly don't know the point of the minimum, or whether or not it was being waived, or anything, so I figured a 4 dollar tip would cover all the angles. If i was being forced to get up to 20, then it's still a 2 dollar tip. If not, then I obviously overtipped, but at least I was getting out of that bar w/o being sodomized or anything.

Completely annoyed by the evening, i realized on my way home that 1) i was hungry and 2) all of my options for takeout were most likely closed. So i reached deep into the back of my cabinet, where those shady boxes of meals reside. The "in case of emergency, add water and microwave" type of deals. With my expectations at an all time low, i was pleasantly surprised by how "slightly above mediocre" it was starting to smell.

I put my tray in front of the greatest chair of all time, and placed the dish on the tray. Two seconds after turning around, i heard a horrible crash and was hit with flying glass and rice. On my chair lay my entire dinner, seeping through the fabric and instantly leaving an unremovable stain.

There was a moment of pause, where the entire next hour was able to flash through my head. This is a deep secret that I haven't shared with many people, but I'm very lazy. On top of that, I really hate doing work that didn't need to be done 10 seconds ago. The idea of having to pick up shreds of glass and trying to minimize the damage to the chair was overwhelming. And all that time, a great wind carried over me, and I thought "six dollars a beer!".

AJ's scenes that night when I watched Sopranos were very identifiable.

That's how a coworker described the people at Subway (the sandwich store). Last year, I was mocked for praising the virtues of Subway. It's rare that I'm wrong, but I was definitely on the wrong side of that debate.

Let me describe the differences between the two different types of Subways that I have experienced in the past year.

The people who worked at the downtown (NYC) location remembered me by the 2nd day, and knew what kind of sub i liked by the third. When they put on the cucumbers, they were lined up on an angle, laying on each other. Thus, each and every single bite had at least one layer of cucumber, and possibly 2 (where one cucumber slice ended, the other was already beginning). Picture the cucumber equivalent of a DJ overlapping one song over another at a club. That's how vital it was to my eating experience.

and when i said "everything but onions", they actually put, you know, EVERYTHING on except onions. Bless their hearts, they'd confirm that i wanted all three types of peppers, but they didn't judge me for it. And after awhile, they even started to buy into my definition of "extra" vinegar. [extra vinegar - noun - "an amount of vinegar that would be the equivalent of drowning a sandwich in vinegar, and then adding more vinegar"]

Basically, after a "big salad" from Monk's was stuffed into two pieces of bread, the sandwich became more than satisfying. And, the guy always rounded the price of the sandwich to somethign that only required one or two coins (i can't remember the exact price, but it was "easy").

Now, Newark's version of Subway is a little different. First, even though nobody else ever came to the store at 2 pm, every time I walked in was the first time. They wouldn't be able to pick me out of a lineup if the only other suspects were Fred Flinstone and the Penguin from Batman Returns. The one silver lining to not being remembered is that the same tricks can work over and over again. And the usually one failsafe move that I have is to order the fixin's one at at time. In other words, when she would ask what i wanted, I would say "lettuce and tomatos". this way, she'd put the tomatos on as though it was going to be the only thing going on this sandwich. then, after she put those on, i'd say "you know what, I'll have cucumbers too". see, if she goes into a sandwich knowing there will be a ton of toppings, she can feel comfortable skimping on each individual topping. But, if you go one topping at a time, she has to over apply the toppings, and then won't be able to backtrack.

Of course, even with this manipulative maneuver, the sandwich still came out "puny". I'd be lucky to get 5 slices of cucumber on a 12 inch sub. You could fit two fingers between slices easily. And i'm convinced they somehow make their bread more airy to cut down on actual product. It feels like it deflates the second you bite into it.


This is all a long, roundabout way of complaining that Subway is a rip off. Now, you may be asking why i continued to go there. Well, as hard as this may be to believe, there was actually a deli that was WORSE than subway. This place robbed you, and then laughed in your face about it.

Their idea of a menu is randomly scattered pieces of paper on all four walls. So you basically have to order and hope for the best in terms of price. A footlong turkey sub ran a little over 7 dollars, but it was a healthy size, so i wasn't that upset. Then, one day, after I order the sub, the girl goes "oh, i'll throw in fries, coleslaw, and a pickle". I thought that was super nice of her, and while I waited, i noticed a sign that said that the tuna melt came with such things. Since it was the only sub i could find, I was beginning to think that all sandwiches came with those sides. I was moderately steamed that the other order-takers had not alerted me to this fact the other days I had ordered. Of course, I couldn't be more wrong.

When I went up to pay, i was flabbergasted that my bill came to almost 11 bucks. I started frantically doing the math in my head. 4 bucks for fries, coleslaw and a pickle? was scam. Then it got worse. The fries were flat out soggy, the coleslaw was served in a plastic shot glass, and the pickle was a circular slice! as in, one of the two pickles that would be put on a burger. the size of a silver dollar!! i couldn't even fit my fork in the coleslaw container so i didn't bother. I've been scammed a lot of times by food establishments cough*mexicali rose* cough*, but this may take the cake. Paid 4 bucks for something I didn't order, and it was pathetic at that.

I have this awesome plug in for firefox that lets me instantly blog with a touch of a button. The only problem is that it keeps adding %;% garbage to the end of sentences. It's really driving me crazy, b/c now i have to open up internet explorer and change my gmail account (I usually have IE set to my work gmail) and THEN open up the edit-blog page.

Not pleased.

Heroes: 12/4/06 --> 1/22/07
and then 3/4/07 --> 4/23/07

House: 9/26/06 --> 10/31/06
and then 12/12/06 --> 1/9/07 --> 1/30/07
and then 2/13/07 --> 3/6/07 --> 3/27/07

Studio 60: 12/4/06 --> 1/22/07
and then 2/19/07 --> ???

Office: 2/22/07 --> 4/5/07


I assume that these long breaks are done so actors can film movies. If that's not the case, then that's completely unacceptable. By the time the show comes back, most people have lost interest.

See, you can't even follow a written argument. In your version of the events, you don't even mention what the waitress said. I find that odd. She was the one who introduced the idea of bottle or tap. Where is that in your version?

I'm not just saying that I was misunderstood. I'm taking responsibility for the misunderstanding. I should have first made sure that when i said "bottle" that it was clearly referencing the beer. Furthermore, I shouldn't have switched my order from bottled beer to draft so haphazardly. That's the main reason for the confusion.

Correlation does not equal causation. your "proof" that I said bottled water was that you thought i said it before the water came and obviously the waitress thought it to. But maybe the cause is that I said something that could be misunderstood as that. You are somehow taking credit for thinking of bottled water before it actually came out.

get lost.

The CEO [I might have the wrong title] of Jet Blue was on Letterman last night. Although he seemed sincere about his concerns for your customers, it was hard to pay attention. You see, I have a high definition TV, and i was mesmerized by how long the CEO's finger nails were. In high def, the nails really popped, and it made me physically ill. No offense, but it was really hard to watch.


Please correct this problem so I don't have to endure that in the future. Thank you.

A month ago, I had never seen this word used. Now, it seems to be the trendiest adj. out there. I don't like when new words develop.

I don't fully understand what a homophobe is afraid of. I can almost wrap my head around those Christians who don't understand Christianity and "hate" gay people for being gay. But I don't get the non religious element of homophobia that straight men feel. Obviously, that sometimes (often?) stems from their own latent homosexual feelings, but if you asked Tim Hardaway why he was "worried" about having gay people on his team, what would his answer be? I would love to cross examine him. He can't JUST be upset by the idea of a gay man finding him attractive. He must know that by being on tv, there has to be some amount of gay people that watch and admire him. What is the gay guy in the lockeroom going to do that the gay guy watching on TV isn't? Is he actually afraid of being raped?

Will someone please ask Tim this. I need to know. I can understand Artie's homophobia. He is bothered when he has to witness homosexual acts, but he knows that he's wrong for that, and he harbors no ill will towards gay people (unless you get him drunk, then the real homophobe comes out). But I need more info on Tim. What is he actually afraid of? It doesn't make sense!

I can't put my finger on it, but something didn't ring true in the scene where Big Momma made cereal for the kid he/she was watching in Big Momma's House II. For those of you who didn't see it, she poured milk into the big box and gave the girl a wooden spoon to scoop it out with.

Any thoughts?

On Friday at 3:30 PM, I left my house for the first time this week. I couldn't put off grocery shopping any longer (there's only so many times you can make a meal out of canned stringed beans), but I really wasn't looking forward to interacting with society. The fact that this event resulted in a blog entry pretty much confirms that the experience was even worse than I imagined.

First, I was kicking myself for not being ready by 3 PM. I've found that being at Pathmark by 3 pm ensures the least amount of human interaction and the shortest of lines. These are both good things. 3:30 is a crapshoot. Anyway, my first goal of buying salad left me confused and disoriented. None of the salads had the magic yellow sticker next to them, signifying that they are on sale. How am I supposed to know what to buy without that yellow sticker! After standing in the salad aisle for longer than what is socially acceptable, I grabbed a couple of the cheapest bags I could find, and moved on.

The next target is coldcuts. It's probably been a month since I've been here (when I was working, I didn't have the time to eat at home), and I was startled by the amount of advertising for a certain brand of coldcut (something with a T and W). Now, I again "choose" my coldcuts by what's on sale (conveniently labeled on the overhead sign above the counter). However, there were two turkeys on sale, and one of them was from this T and W company. Part of me wanted to avoid this company just out of principle. The other part of me was falling into the Grapes of Wrath trap of "well, california MUST be awesome b/c why else would they waste all that money advertising about jobs?". I didn't know what to do, and I was quickly running out of time.

To add insult to injury, both of the people ahead of me were being taken care of at the same time, and one of deli workers was coughing occasionally. She seemed to put a moderately decent effort into coughing into her elbow/sleeve, but it was still skeeving me out. I was silently rooting for customer B to finish first, but much to my dismay, A finished first. Now, I'm in full panic mode. As I order the Turkey (the non T and W, mind you), I need to step outside of myself to calm down. I have an internal debate arguing that all food purchased is disgusting and contaminated, and I just happened to visually see it this time. It's naive of me to think the meat was "clean" before this lady started her hacking fit, so I should just accept it and move on. Surprisingly, the thought of all food being disgusting did not calm my nerves.

When the woman couldn't find the turkey i requested, she began to walk away. I told her that any turkey from that company would be fine (seriously, is there a difference between honey, skinless, or browned?), but she insisted on finding a new one. While this was going on, customer B finished, and now worker B was just standing there. With no other customers around, I was faced with a decision.... Should I ask her to slice my ham? On the plus side, the ham wouldn't have phelmn on it. But, more importantly, I felt like it was inconsiderate to occupy both workers at the same time. In the end, I decided not to ask her.

Of course, fate would have it that the decision was not mine. "excuse me, can I get you some cheese?" What kind of question is that? Did she have a block of cheese open and was offering to slice it for me before she closed it? Or was she under the assumption that I was done buying meats and that all I needed was cheese? Completely caught in the headlights, I muttered "oh, no thank you, all I need is 1/2 a pound of that ham that is on sale". I was pretty pleased with myself for such a non committal answer. I wasn't asking her to slice that ham. I was just making an observation that I need ham sliced. If she wanted to volunteer to be the one to step up, so be it.

Here was what I was hoping for: Woman B would slice and complete the ham before woman A came back with this elusive "browned turkey". Critical to this timeline would be that no other customers come up to the counter.

Here's what actually happened: just as woman B grabbed the ham, woman A came back with brand new turkey (that was still sealed in plastic). 5 seconds later, cue two new customers walking to the counter.

Customer 1: "excuse me, miss. excuse me....."

Customer 2: "oh, I think they are both working on that gentleman's order"

me: [knees buckle]

Workers A and B, literally at the exact same time: "is this slice thin enough?"

[sidenote: for about two years I have told the women that I don't care about the thickness of the slice and that they don't have to bother showing me the thickness nor offering me a complimentary slice to taste. They never ever get it. I've been force fed slices before. I've given up trying to make their lives easier, and now just accept the fact that I will have to confirm each individual thickness].

Things got extra confusing when woman A incorrectly confirmed that I wanted 1/2 a pound of turkey. I think I momentarily blacked out, but I do remember this scene ending with me having to point at each woman to signify which one I was actually talking to. [points left]: "yes, that thickness is fine, but no, i want a pound of turkey" [points right]: "ok, now yes, that thickness is also fine, but I just need half a pound of ham."

Oh, and did i mention that I have a headphone in my right ear? I'm not going to get into the details of my layering of clothes, but it was physically impossible to reach my ipod, so I did the best thing I could and take one of the ears out when I walked up to the counter. I need to keep the 2nd ear in though b/c otherwise both headphones would just dangle. Trust me, I've struggled to develop the least offensive means of dealing with this issue, and this is all I could come up with.

So now, the other two customers see me pointing at the workers and barking out orders. Feeling completely awkward, I turn on the comedic self defense mechanism and start joking with them about my mistake. The customers seem to understand (at least somewhat), but I'm then saved by worker B as she throws in a joke about how there wasn't anyone here before and that's why they were both helping me. I grab the finished coldcuts, thank them, and put my head down in shame. I'm halfway through my adventure, and I assume the worst is over.

I go to purchase milk, but realize that my little carrying crate is "full". Not full in the full sense, but b/c some of the salads i bought were in plastic boxes, while others were in bags, there is no place for the milk. I'm about to put the crate on the floor to repack, but the floor is all wet (dirty-wet). So I have to repack while keeping the crate on the side of my hip. And by repack, i'm talking about just tossing stuff around in a mad dash to squeeze the milk in. It "works" to a certain extent, but now the crate is a mess.

Walking by the yogurt, i'm both happy and dismayed to see that they are half off. With crate in the condition that it's in, the only place for the yogurt is on top of the rest of the food. Yeah, gingerly placing ROUND yogurts on top of the crate won't create problems later on.

Now, I gotta get the heck out of there. I grab the first loaf of bread that's on sale (thank you yellow sticker!) and I make my way to the check out. The line is shockingly long, but I figure it's just a result of the 3:30 start. Both headphones are on, and I'm just going to mentally rest while I'm in this line.

[tap on my shoulder]

old guy: "you should go over there to the express line, it would be faster."

The "express" line in this pathmark is the scan and bag your own. I've seen it done, and it doesn't look easy. When you scan something, you have to put it in the bag to weigh it (so they know you are properly scanning). I have about two to three bags worth of food, so I wouldn't know what to do. But, this old guy is clearly the type to think he knows everything, so i thank him for the advice and start walking. Now, as i'm walking towards the express line, I see that it is actually very long, but the "regular" lines are just medium long. So I jump in one of them.

As though there was a big tattoo on my face that says "doesn't know how to shop" a guy (who was with his young daughter) sees me in line and says "you should go to the express line, it would be faster" (!!!!). At this point, I'm not moving so I tell him "oh, it's ok, I think i have too many items". him: "no seriously, you should go, don't waste your time in this line." Once again, I'm forced to use self deprecation to get me out of this tight situation, so I joke about how I'm not smart enough to use one of those things. He's about to try for a third time, but gives up before hand.

After about a minute in line, they open up a register two away from us. I don't feel like it's "fair" that people in the back of the line always get the benefit of a new line, so I let the guy and his daughter make a dash for it, while I stand in place. Unfortunately (for him), the daughter was screwing around with the cart, and they failed to get a good spot in that line. I feel awkward for him as he's now trying to "merge" into that line while the end of it tails off in the other direction.

I was going to offer to him that he get back in front of me, but I felt like that would be showing him up. The Pupil becomes the Master, so to speak. So i just stand there. Now, things really get hairy as the aisle between us has a woman setting up. Before she announces it out loud, she tells me to get in line, as it's opening up. Thinking that her mind would explode if i declined the offer, I reluctantly start dumping my stuff on the conveyor belt. I pray that the guy doesn't decide to backtrack back into this line, but of course he does. Now, as I'm unpacking (remember, in a normal situation you get to put stuff on the conveyor belt BEFORE it's your tun up in the hotseat) he pulls up behind me and starts unpacking too (at a much faster pace than me). I offer for him to go ahead of me, but he declines. I'm so flustered by the encounter that I hand the worker my credit card instead of slashing it myself. "whoops, my mistake.....it's been awhile since i've been here." Yeah, and it's going to be a long long time before I ever come back.

I sign the receipt and collect my bags (note: I always have issues with trying to figure out how many times I have to spin that bagged wheel to get all of my bags. i can never tell). As i'm walking towards the exit, I'm a beaten man, but still alive. Nothing else could go wrong... Until my phone rings.

2 bags in each hand, headphones on each ear, but I have to get this phone for two reasons: 1) I'm embarrassed by the "arrested development" ringtone (ringtones always seem like a good idea in theory, but not in practice) and 2) it could be a job. Hmm, the punchline of AD should be #2, but it's too late to go back and change that order. So, i step outside, fumble for my phone and shout at my cousin "yeah, i can't hear you, i have my headphones on and I'm walking out of pathmark. I'll call you in 5 minutes." I then hang up on him.

I get to the front of my house, and almost chuckle at the plight of my life. Then I see the woman across the street trying in vain to carry two kids and a stroller up the stairs. Since I don't want to startle her by just walking up to her, I shout from across the street "do you need some help". She looks at me, but doesn't answer. Now I'm really in trouble. Did I not hear her answer? What if she said yes and I don't go over? what if she said no and I do? I debate just running away, but decide to walk over there. I'm trying desperately to make eye contact with her, but she's not looking. Her kids have a confused look and are staring at me though. Great, just great. As I go to grab the stroller, i make a over the top gesture with my arms hoping she'd catch it in the corner of her eyes. Of course, I guessed wrong, as she's completely startled by seeing me. I again ask her if she needs help, and she shakes her finger at me and smiles "no". I give a "oh ok, I thought you needed help" and then slink away back to my apartment.

How could so many things go wrong in a simple trip to the grocery store? I'm never leaving this apartment again.

When they do something stupid, ask them to explain why they are doing it. Case in point: Howard was upset with Gary because Gary has a program on his son's computer that allows him access to all of his IM's, emails, and website history. Howard pressed Gary to explain why he chose not to at least tell his son that the program existed. Like a true moron, Gary could not articulate WHY he made that decision. After awhile, Gary got overly defensive about it.

It's pretty obvious to me that if you can't articulate why you are doing something (or believe something), then it's a poor decision. I've never ever had a problem explaining WHY. If you can give me a "why", then at least it's a rational decision. I may disagree with it, but I'll probably respect it.

If you give me a "I don't know. just because!" then you are officially retarded.

When the sweatshirt over the shirt over the tshirt still didn't cover it, I had to put on the space heater AND get into bed under the covers. Too cold to actually turn around and watch tv, i had to keep my arms under my chest and lay on my stomach. When 9 pm rolled around, I was STILL too cold to watch house. Too cold to get out of bed, I decided to just sleep with the lights on. wake up at 5 am, with the heater having run ALL night, and I'm still pretty cold. This can't be healthy.