Fresh Frozen

I am back in Los Angeles enjoying all that is LA.

The weather, people, and of course the food.

Yesterday I decide to get some more fish in my diet, despite the fact I hate eating it.  I decided the Omega 3 acid bullshit might have some validity.

I cruise down to Santa Monica Seafood to buy some fresh fish.

I get there and look at all the slabs laid out in the glass case.

I decide on the salmon despite the fact I cannot stand it.

The server asks me if  he can be of help.

HIM:  Hi, can I help you?

ME:  Yeah.  I wanna get some salmon. Is it fresh?

HIM: Yes.

ME:  Fresh today?  Or yesterday?

HIM:  It's fresh frozen.


ME:  Fresh frozen????

HIM:  Yup.

ME:  So not fresh.

HIM:  Oh, Yeah.  Fresh frozen.

ME: Well, almost everything is fresh frozen. But is it fresh?

HIM:  YES!!  As I said, it's fresh frozen.

ME: Dude. Lemme explain something to you about the whole "fresh frozen" process.  When Green Giant picks corn, it's fresh.  Then they freeze it.  Six months later when I grab it out of the freezer at the supermarket it's also fresh frozen.


CONFUSED LOOK.

HIM:  Yeah, but ours is fresh frozen.

ME:  So.....when was it frozen, and how long ago did you defrost it?

HIM:  Ummmmmm...... I'm not sure.

ME:  So two guys in a boat in Taiwan coulda caught this in October, froze it, shipped it to you guys where it stayed in your freezer, then you thawed it out and tell me it's fresh??

HIM:  Ummmmm..... I'm not sure... Do you want me to ask the manager?

ME:  Yeah.

THE MANAGER COMES OVER.

MANAGER:  Hi.  Whats your question?

ME:  Your guy here told me the salmon is fresh frozen.  So it's not fresh.

MANAGER:  Oh sure it is.  It's fresh frozen.

ME:  Yeah?  Fresh frozen when?  July? September?  Last year?|

MANAGER:  Uhhhhh....Probably not that long ago.

ME:  Probably?  Nice.  Your sign says "fresh" but in fact it's been frozen, then thawed out.  The frozen "Lean Cuisine" salmon casserole shit is also fresh frozen until I microwave it.  Then suddenly it's fresh.

MANAGER: Well that's the way we sell it.

ME (in a loud voice):  OK.  I will have two slabs of the frozen salmon, caught whenever, then thawed out.

PEOPLE AROUND ME ARE NOW LOOKING AT ME AND THE CONFUSED MANAGER

MANAGER: OK.

GUY BEHIND ME: Yeah, and why don't you throw in some day old bread from last week?

We laugh.

Triumph.

So next time your fish store pulls this bullshit with you, ask them to explain to you why "fresh frozen"  is different from fresh.

Dicks.

Merry Fucking Christmas

Christmas annoys me.

Well, I guess not the day Christmas - just the whole particulars of Christmas.

For example, the whole fake bullshit greeting "Merry Christmas" you get from almost everyone you run into from about December 1 to 25th makes no sense.

Every jack-wagon I run into says "Merry Christmas" to me for about 3 weeks before the actual day.

Now this really annoys me.

Last time I checked, Christmas is December 25th, right?

So why do people insist on the greeting "Merry Christmas" every day before this date?

I don't get it.

Why do people use this idiotic greeting in advance of actual Christmas Day?

Why the moronic "Merry Christmas" greeting DAYS or WEEKS in advance of actual Christmas Day?

Do we say "Happy Birthday" to a person for a few days or weeks before the actual day of somebody's birthday?

Nope.  We wait for the actual day.

So keep the greeting "Merry Christmas" for the date of December 25th and stop jumping the fucking gun.

Happy Holidays!!

No, No, No.

I'm not wishing you all happy holidays with this post.

I am writing about this annoying greeting we get THOUSANDS of times during the Holiday period; "HAPPY HOLIDAYS" - whatever the fuck that is supposed to mean.

Why "Happy Holidays" as a greeting or acknowledgement just over the Christmas holiday period?

I mean, at Easter do we say "Happy Holidays?"  Never.

During the summer holidays do we walk up to people and say "Happy Holidays?"  No, we don't.

On any holiday other than Christmas do we use this idiotic expression?  Nope.

And, what the fuck is so "Happy" about buying useless shit we can't afford and giving it away to other people; enduring long lines and stupid questions at shopping malls and stores; having that relative coming to visit that will eat, drink and sleep at our crib for a few days?

You know I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture.

So for the next few weeks, just say hello and leave it to us to determine just how "happy" the "holidays" really are.

Bah, humbug.


WARNING:    Any douchebag who mutters "Happy New Year" to me after January 8th will be instantly slapped.

Flying the "Friendly" Skies

I fly a lot.

It used to be fun.

I would get a buzz on, (to combat my fear of flying) flirt a bit with the skybitch (stewardess), bullshit the guy or girl next to me, and generally had an OK time.

Not any more.  All it is now, is annoying.

After putting up with the full body pat-down at security, long lines, no real cutlery to use, drink minimums, and aging stewardesses, the charm has gone for me.

Worse, the process of flying has gone mental.

Every minimum wage TSA screener assumes your a terrorist or are about to hatch some evil scheme.  All this from people who can't balance their checkbook properly or name all 50 States.  Every move you make has about a thousand rules you have to follow.

So now, I have to find ways to amuse myself so I don't fall over from boredom.

I read, play games on the computer and phone, and pretend to sleep while I really read my seat-mates computer screen.

So, I'm on a flight from St. Louis to L.A. a few months ago, and before we take off I am finishing up a call.  When I am using my cellphone on a plane, I always use the earphones with the mouthpiece/speaker thing so I don't have to talk loud.

After all, there is nothing worse than listening to some jack-off talking loudly into a phone about what important thing he is doing.

We get the "power down all your personal devices" message on the intercom, and I finish my call and I turn off my phone.  I unplug the phone from my headphones and put it on my lap.  But, I keep the earphones in because I'm gonna listen to some music as soon as we are given the green light to do so.

I just don't feel like rolling them up and putting them away.

As we taxi out, the Stewardess comes over to me.

HER:   Sir, you have to remove you earphones.

ME:    There not plugged in.  (I show her my phone is off and in my lap)

HER:   Doesn't matter, you have to take off your earphones.

ME:    Why?

HER:  Because if the Captain has to make an announcement, you won't be able to hear.

ME:   But I can hear you perfectly.  The announcements they make on these planes are louder than a Rolling Stones Concert.  (I hope this humor will help)

HER:  (annoyed)  No, you have to take them out.

ME:    But there not in use, not plugged in.  I need them for my ears to balance pressure.  (I have no idea where this wonderful piece of bullshit came from but it sounded pretty good)

HER:  Sir, you have to take them out.

ME:   Buy Why??

HER:  It's an FAA rule that you can't have earphones in.

ME:   Wait a minute.  Your telling me, the FAA has a rule thats says a guy can't have earphones in his ear even when they are not plugged into anything??

HER:   That's right.

ME:   I seriously doubt that is a rule.

HER:   Do you want me to get the Pilot?

ME:   Sure.  I really would like to hear this explanation from him.  I can't believe that would be a rule.


The guy next to me now has put his book down, taken off his glasses, and is wondering how the "showdown at the OK Corral" is gonna go....

HER:  (daggers in her eyes) Well, I'm not going to bother him right before take-off and delay the flight.

ME:  Well, you suggested it.... I'm not going anywhere....

HER:  You could get into serious trouble if I report this.

ME:  Oh, I'm sure it's at least 25 to life for having earphones in your ear that are not plugged into anything...

HER:  I don't understand why you being so difficult.


She STORMS back to her jump seat, buckles in, and stares at me.  I smile back.

Now, the guy next to me is almost pissing his pants with delight.  I mean, he hasn't had this much excitement since putting a banana in the freezer on a Friday night.

He shoots me a sly look.  "You sure busted her ass, there"

Once we reach cruising altitude, I tell him "next time the Stewardess comes by ask him when the Pilot is stopping by".

"No way" he says, "I 'aint gettin' involved with this"

So for the rest of the flight, I am Mr. Fucking Nice Guy to this Stew; thanking her for my drinks, telling her to have a nice day, and so on.  Every time I do she smiles through gritted teeth.  She's ready to fucking explode.

The plane lands without any further incident, and of course without the Pilot coming out to see me.

On the way out as she is doing the "Bye-Bye Now" thing to everyone I stop, smile a huge fucking smile, and say to her,  "Hey, have a earphones kind of day"

She glares at me.  She looks ready to kill.....

Thank goodness it's tough to have any sort of weapon on a plane.

Otherwise I wouldn't be here telling you this story.

Yet Another Server...

There's actually one decent Mexican joint in Kelowna, called DJ's.

I get a big hankering for some Mexican chow one night so we go for dinner.

We sit out on the patio.

After 7 minutes of no one coming to our table, I am ready to leave.  It's my own personal 7 minute rule:  if no one contacts my table within 7 minutes of sitting down, I leave.

I have done this at places ranging from IHOP to Morton's Steakhouse.  I don't care if it's a busboy, hostess, hat check girl or sommelier; if no one talks to me in 7 minutes I'm gone.  More on that one later, as I digress.

As we are getting up to leave, the server finally comes over.  She's about 26 and hot.  I know right away it's gonna be trouble because hot servers are the worst; they think their decent looks and big tits can get them through anything, and guys will put up with any kind of service.

Not me.

She comes over.  "I'll be right with you" she says.  More waiting.

Fuck it I say, let's go.  But Christa calms me down and talks me into staying.

We don't have drinks yet, so I actually get up, so inside to the bar, order 2 drinks and bring them over to the table myself.

Because I am SO fucking beyond annoyed at this point,  I decide to play the whole dinner out.  Luckily, it's a nice day outside, as my dinner is already ruined because I am too annoyed to enjoy it.  It's like being punch-drunk.

She comes over, and gives us the phony friendly, forced smile greeting.

HER:  Hi..... Oh, I see you already got drinks. (giggles and more fake smiles)

ME:    Yeah, it's a self serve bar isn't it?

CONFUSED LOOK

HER:  Ummm...no, I don't think so...

ME:   Oh.  Well we've been here for so long I assumed it was self serve. I got these myself.

HER:  Hahahahaha.  Oh, I get it now.

COLD STARE.  I don't even come close to cracking a smile.

ME:    No, I don't think you do..

We order, and wait. I get up again and get more drinks, and she is oblivious to it all.  I am actually so blown away by all of this, it's now funny.  I mean how many times have you ever got up to get your own drinks after you are seated at a table in a restaurant?

When our food arrives I ask for salt and pepper as there is none on the table.  It does not arrive after 5 minutes, and I get up and get it myself as well.

The salt and pepper never does arrive, and no explanation ever given.

The meal thankfully ends and I ask for the bill.

I am SO looking forward to getting the bill and stiffing this bimbo I am almost giddy with excitement. I sign, put my patented, bold-pencil, $0.00 in the tip line, and write a small note about how shitty our experience is.

I'm gonna tell the manager but figure a chick this stupid can't get a job anywhere else if they decided to fire her. After all, the "rub-and-tugs" are not hiring and she can't do much anything else...

We leave.

About a block away, I realize I have left my credit card in the little bill folder they give you when you pay. I hustle back double-time.

As I'm walking up to our table to get my card back, our server is looking at the bill and reading.

As much as I feel awkward, I approach her and ask for the card.  She stares me down.

She hands me the card and says, sarcastically, "Thanks"

Because now I am DOUBLY annoyed, I go off on her explaining what a moron she is and I almost went to her manager to REALLY complain, so she should thank me.

Like a dope, she flips her hand at me and utters the ultimate loser line:  "whatever"

So, all I can do now, is cross DJ's off the list.

Fuck them forever.

"Enjoy"

Ok, I can't help it.

I know I promised to lay off the restaurant industry but I can't.

I was gonna write about this later on, but because it happened to me a few times last weekend,  I have to get it off my chest.

"Enjoy"

I am so fucking annoyed at all the servers in the Western World that use this idiotic word on a continual basis.

This all sound familiar? :

You order in a restaurant.

The server brings the plates to the table and puts them down.  Now comes the part that annoys me.  The server looks at everyone, puts a shit-eating grin on their face, extends their hands, nods their head, and then says:

"Enjoy"

OK.

First of all, fuck off.  Second, I don't need a minimum wage asshole telling me to "enjoy" anything.

What, I dressed up, drove to your restaurant, parked the car, had a few drinks and some conversation, ordered, and just before eating, your telling me to "enjoy?"  Thanks for the tip Dr. Phil.

Am I the asshole here?  I am out for an evening NOT enjoying?  Do I look so miserable that the server has pity on me, then reminds me to enjoy??

I have some really great advice for all you servers that say this:  put the plates down, make some eye contact in case someone is confused about their order, shut the fuck up, and then go look after your other tables.

We don't need you validating us to "enjoy" our food, as we came there for that very reason.

Oh, and while your at it, wipe that phony fucking smile off your face.

Enjoy!

The "Coast"

When I think about the things that annoy me, this might be the clear cut winner. I mean, the grand fucking champion of all things annoying to me. Ready?

The Coast.

Lemme explain....

In Kelowna, a lot of people drive down to Vancouver on a regular basis, seeing how it is only about a four hour drive.

But when they go, instead of just saying, "Hey, I'm going to Vancouver for the weekend"  or "I'm working in Vancouver"  they refer to that city as "The Coast"

EXAMPLE:

ME:  What are you doing this weekend?

MORON:  Going down to "the Coast" to visit a few friends.

ME:  How have you been?

MORON #2:  Good - spending a lot of time down at "the Coast".

I have been hearing this phrase now for 10 years, and every time I do, my pulse starts racing, my skin breaks out in hives, my nutsack tightens, and my blood begins to actually boil.

Lets start with the obvious.

When someone says they are "going to the Coast"  my first thought is:

Yeah?  What Coast?  There's fucking dozens of them, moron.

For instance, my Coast is in Los Angeles.  My friend Murray's coast is in Mexico. Old pal Nick's coast is in Belize.  See, we all travel there on a frequent basus, and that is "the Coast" were on.

But when someone says to me, "Hey, I haven't seen you in a while", I don't reply, "Yeah, I've been down at the Coast".   I say I've been in Los Angeles, even though Los Angeles is also a coast.

Get it?

Slowly, I am educating the masses.  To wit, about 3 months ago:

ME:   What are you doing this weekend?

HIM:  I'm going to the Coast to see the Carrie Underwood concert?

ME:    Where's Carrie Underwood playing in Los Angeles??

STUNNED, CONFUSED LOOK.

HIM:  No no, I'm going to the Coast to see her.

ME:    WHAT coast?

A MORE CONFUSED LOOK.

HIM:   Vancouver.

STILL LOOKING CONFUSED AND SCARED I AM HIGH ON CRACK.

ME:      Well, my coast is in Los Angeles, so when you say the Coast, that's what I thought you meant.

HIM:    Oh.  (considers this sage piece of wisdom and nods his head)  I get it.

ME:     Next time, just tell me your going to Vancouver.

HIM:   Ok.  What's your fucking problem today??


I have decided to single-handedly go on a mission to educate everyone out there who insist on continually using this phrase, "The Coast".

So in the future, when your going away somewhere, mention the fucking city by name, so I don't have to spend time figuring out why you flunked geography.