Category Archives: hungry

Mailboxes, Servers, and Salt

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I have come to the conclusion that much of my grouchy attitude is not only caused by dieting and carb loss, but also directly related to the small, yet accumulative shit that happens every day in my world.

I had an epiphany last night, as I was sitting at my local Applebees at dinnertime. On a Monday night. Not a busy night mind you, just an ordinary, slow Monday. I have been accused in the past of being a picky brat, but let me share with you a few instances where I do think I may have had a right to be a little miffed at my luck.

Back to Applebees.

I ordered a frozen margarita. Simple enough. And my server brought it to me, (after the bartender looked up the ingredients of said cocktail) in a small iced tea glass. If you have ever had a margarita, you would note here that it is primarily served in (wait for it) a margarita glass  with a stem, and the rim salted. And a lime.

The drink was served to me in a small iced tea glass, with no lime, no salt. (in all fairness, I was not asked if I did or did not want those added features, although after having tended bar myself for many years, and also having been a server for as long, I was under the (obviously) mistaken impression that those added features were the very definition of  a ‘margarita’.)

You wonder why I would whine about such a thing? Well, it wouldn’t bother me so much if

A. it was the only thing that wasn’t quite right, and

B. I hadn’t actually watched the bartender look up the recipe to make it.

On to the medium rare steak. It was cooked to a black crisp on the outside, and quite brown and tough on the inside.

Now, I didn’t complain, but my server was probably one of the best we have ever had at any restaurant. Clean, clearly attentive, and she could simply tell from nothing more than the look on my face that things weren’t right. And she did fix both to my absolute satisfaction.

But here’s my point. It happens to me, and only to me, no matter who I go out with, every time I go out. I always expect the best, but rarely get it.

We were celebrating a very big promotion and raise my husband had just received, but of course, because of this shit, we were distracted repeatedly from talking about it. (We did tip our server 40% though, because damn! She really was a good server, and she did make it right, and neither was her fault)

But it shouldn’t have been wrong to begin with.

Another example: Last month my husband, my sister and I went to Hooters. We have 2 Hooters nearby, and we stopped in to the one a little further away, which we rarely frequent, as we were on our way back from a shopping trip. The place had 4 tables of people when we arrived, and two loners at the bar. My husband and my sister both were served their food, as the server explained that my order had been sent to the wrong table, blah blah, its coming out in just a few more minutes. (please keep in mind that I ordered wings, medium, off the menu, nothing special, just frigging wings. Its what they do for chrissake.)

 

After my husband and my sister had completely finished their meals, and after I had sat with an empty glass for 20 minutes, she finally came over and put a plate of food in front of me. It was not wings, but something else entirely. I would think I’d have a pretty good reason to blow up here, but I simply told her it was wrong, and to cancel the order. Then she copped an attitude, and pretty much assured me that I was mistaken, this is what she had written down, so therefore, it had to be what I ordered. My husband and sister both protested with me, as they had actually been sitting at the same table as I was when I placed the order. But no, we were all wrong. She did eventually take the price of the fucked up order off our bill, but not before our, and another server neglected to notice that my husband was paying the bill as my sister and I walked out, and they chased us out the door as if we had done the ‘dine and dash’, but stopped short in the entryway as another server yelled for them to come back, noticing my husband paying.

With this much attention to detail from 3 servers, you would think someone could have gotten an order of wings correct. At a wing establishment.

And no, the bitch did not get a tip.

So here are some  bits of advice from a person who is being driven insane by bullshit ‘phone it in’ attitudes toward everything:

1.  If you are a server, please get your head out of your ass and pay attention to your job. Most servers are very hard working, and very attentive to detail. And they earn every penny they make, and then some.

2.  If you are a fucking Ditz, please get a job doing yardwork where you can wear your bikini to get a tan, and no one will care how bad you fuck it up as long as your boobs bounce around occasionally. Remember, you don’t have to know anything, because your boobs will put you through college. And bring a friend to pretend shes helping, that way you can take turns showing off your mad pole dancing skillz on the rake handle in someones front yard.

3. Companies whose job it is to design a damn coffee carafe that actually pours coffee into a cup, not into a cup as well as 3/4 of a cup onto the surface all around  it…Get your ass back to work! You are obviously failing miserably at your jobs!! ( I know this was completely unrelated, but someone had to say it)

4.  Guy who backed into my mailbox 2 nights ago as I watched you smash it to hell...just how fucking long do you think your extended cab pickup truck is? It ain’t a  SEMI!  Go out and measure that goddamn thing! And anyway, thanks, I was TOTALLY planning to go buy a damn mailbox.

5. Old lady in the grocery store taking up an entire aisle with your combination cart/ass…. the ingredients you are studying so intently are : SALT. Just put it in your cart and move along. It’s SALT.

6. Girl who keeps blogging about her kids potty training. Newsflash- Your kid shits. Everyone shits. All you have done is an early favor to yourself and the noses of people surrounding your kid who shits. And you have saved yourself  money on diapers, but I can assure you, the kid would have eventually taught himself to take a crap in a toilet when he got tired of smelling it and walking around with it in his pants. And I don’t want to see any more pictures of him on a toilet. It’s not cute. Do you see pictures of me on the toilet? Right, because it’s not cute.

Ok, now I feel a little better. I wonder whose job it is  to piss me off today…

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Sausage patties and refrigerators

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Sunday morning! The day for our yummy big breakfast. Usually it’s eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes and toast, with coffee of course. (make mine black, I hate myself.)  I have been good with my zero carbs, and if you’ve read my previous posts, then you know where it’s heading- I deserve it.

But let me go off  on a tangent for a bit though, for I feel that with all the exercise and carb cutting, I am leaning toward insanity. No one has been murdered yet, but I fear it’s just a matter of time.

Todays subject-Sausage. not patties, not links, but the bulk stuff that comes in a roll so you can either slice it into tiny hockey pucks, or try ( I say try) to squeeze it between your hands as if you had the idea that you were going to make patties out of it. What happens however is you end up with red, slimy crap all over your hands that you will eventually scrape off into a pan and attempt to flatten with a spatula.

Now that we have it all pattied and cooking, lets move on to consistency, smell  and taste.

Some years back, sausage tasted and smelled like a spiced pork product, yummy and good, you could smell it cooking and you knew instantly that it was breakfast sausage. But that is no more my friends, those days are gone…

While its cooking, I pull the cover off of the pan, and it smells like no spices were added, but instead, they washed the sausage with dishsoap. And not expensive stuff either, just the shit you find for fifty cents a bottle.

Today I am eating a sausage patty whose ingredients, I’m pretty sure, include but are not limited to- pork, pork type by product, slimy red stuff, toenails, bits of hair, lint balls, and any leftover crumbs and bits they found laying around in their cupboards and the dryer lint trap.  And it tastes like that.

I am pretty sure thats my last sausage patty.

Now to my refrigerator for a moment.

When you look inside, theres a little cubby with a flip up flap thingy in the door. Ok, if you put ANYTHING in it, its going to slide out and hit floor every fucking time you open the door for anything, so whats the point there? Do the designers of shit like this sit around smoking weed and laughing about how stupid their ideas are and then incorporating them anyway? All the while just bustin a gut because some dumbass is going to buy it, and at least once will try to put something in that hole with a flap.

I have a half roll of sausage product left. I am considering putting it in the flapped door just to punish it. Also, I will burn calories bending over repeatedly and putting it back in there.

Black Coffee

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I hate black coffee. And yes, there is more than a slight hint of crybaby in that. I would say that I have joined the ranks of millions this spring who are trying to lose weight, but the reality is that I have been part of it for 2 years. I don’t have a lot to lose, but lets just say my waist has become quite adept at ‘pantsing’ me when I bend over, walk, breathe…

Sadly, I’m not very good at it. Losing weight I mean. But I am DAMN good at gaining it. Here’s one of my problems though.

I think I’m giving something up to lose a few pounds (i.e. sugar, fats, carbs) but in reality, I am pretty sure I make up for it in some other way. A beer you say? Oh, no, I mustn’t , because it’s one of the things I have given up to lose weight. A piece of cake with a healthy dollop of frosting? Well bring it on!! I gave up beer, so one piece won’t hurt! And I deserve it! (do you happen to have ice cream as well?)

And getting back to the coffee. I have had my coffee with cream and sugar for thousands of years. Right now I’m trying to cut carbs, so of course I am drinking it with no sugar. Or cream. Because having it with cream and no sugar is worse than black coffee. But I hate black coffee. And it’s making me grouchy. So is being hungry.

It’s not like I am unwilling to give up some things to get the job done. I have gained and lost before, but I am my own worst enemy when it comes to dieting. Maybe that little sense of entitlement holds me down.  (“Wahhh, I want sugar! I want chocolate!”)

I don’t think I’ve ever met a kid that was a bigger crybaby about anything. Seriously.

Another problem is I exercise my ass off (obviously not literally or I wouldn’t be whining right now) And I don’t lose much more than 5-7 pounds.

The artificial sweeteners taste like artificial sweeteners (and by that I mean to say they taste like shit with sugar sprinkled on it. (*disclaimer- I have never eaten shit, but I am pretty sure it tastes like artificial sweetener) So that’s no help.

Eat healthy foods!  I try, I swear to God I do, but that damn sugar is hiding in eeeeeeverything!!!  And if it’s not sugar, it’s corn syrup.

Nothing like 4 bites of a teensy weensy can of creamy yogurt swimming in a swill of high fructose corn syrup! So filling! So satisfying! Yea, that’s not going to help either.

Fresh veggies, I can have all I want! But I’m not a frigging rabbit, and although I don’t mind vegetables, I’m literally starving after an hour.

So here’s my new diet plan. From now on, I am going to eat a whole chicken and drink 2 cans of beer every other Monday. I won’t even guarantee that I will cook the chicken first, but I will certainly pluck it. And some fucking vegetables. Some yummy, fucking vegetables. All I can eat.

And black coffee.

I have declared war on fat!  Pretty sure I know who is going to win this one though. Because I hate black coffee.