Take a tip from me . . . Don't expect a tip for cash and carry
Last night, after finishing work with a cough that sounded like I ought to be in a TB ward, I dragged myself to my car and drove home. My husband, who is not a Catholic (and even Catholics have been absolved from eating fish on Fridays some 40 years ago) always wants to have fish on Friday: Whiting, catfish, perch, even haddock. But I knew I didn't feel like cooking, especially with a book signing 50 miles away the next day that I'd arranged before getting that killer cold and infection, so I stopped at the Chili's close to our home and ordered some take-out tilapia.
I studied the menu, made my choice and placed the order. The girl behind the counter rang it up and told me the total. When she gave me the slip to pay with my debit card, I put a '0' in the Tip column and wrote in the total before signing it. The cashier glanced at the slip . . . and her whole attitude changed. Once jovial and pleasant, she handed me my copy without a word.
Her attitude made a warm room feel cool, and I felt it was uncalled for. I'd placed an order for food and paid for it. She wasn't serving me, at least no more than the people who work behind the butcher block at the supermarket who weigh and wrap up boneless chicken breasts or ground beef. I don't tip them, either.
What's with people lately? In recent years I've noticed tip jars at delis, hot dog stands, and pizzerias, where food is prepared while the customer waits. A sandwich artist, as one nationwide deli chain calls their behind-the-counter staff, is paid to make sandwiches. Why should they expect to be tipped? Okay, so even if the customer doesn't want tomatoes on their sandwich, it isn't the same as greeting customers when they come in, handing them menus, pouring them water, taking their drink and food orders, delivering everything to their table, and checking on them periodically. These workers seem to want the best of both worlds.
A few minutes later, when my order was ready, I accepted it with a smile. The cashier, by now pleasant again, didn't say thank you.
And neither did I.
Not So Ancient
I had some time to kill last Sunday night (before I got sick) before Desparate Housewives came on at 8PM, so I checked out the first hour of the Grammy Awards.
Once ranked wtih the shows I'd never miss, I'd stopped watching years ago when it occurred to me that I didn't know who half the people were. I figured I'd be bored, but there was virtually nothing else on.
What I got was a pleasant surprise. The very first award of the evening went to the duet partners of Tony Bennett and Stevie Wonder, both people I'm familiar with. Of course, seeing how much weight Stevie has put on - his girth reminded me of B.B. King! - made me realize how many years have passed since his heyday. But hey, I've put on a few pounds myself in the last twenty years.
I saw many other familiar faces that first hour, both nominees (Natalie Cole, Beyoncé, the adorable India Arie,) and in shots of the audience of people who probably would take to the stage later on (Smokey Robinson, Lionel Richie, Reba McIntire). I found myself hitting the Last button on the remote control when a break came up in Housewives so I could see if I recognized anybody else. There was Ludacris, unrecognizable to me with dark glasses and sans his trademark cornrows. And that guy who looked so little next to a younger performer whose name I can't recall right now - wasn't that Burt Bacharach?
It was during this time that I stopped recognizing people, so I directed my attention fully to the happenings on Wisteria Lane. But I must say that I felt pretty good watching the forty-ninth annual Grammy Awards.
Maybe I'm not so ancient after all.
I had some time to kill last Sunday night (before I got sick) before Desparate Housewives came on at 8PM, so I checked out the first hour of the Grammy Awards.
Once ranked wtih the shows I'd never miss, I'd stopped watching years ago when it occurred to me that I didn't know who half the people were. I figured I'd be bored, but there was virtually nothing else on.
What I got was a pleasant surprise. The very first award of the evening went to the duet partners of Tony Bennett and Stevie Wonder, both people I'm familiar with. Of course, seeing how much weight Stevie has put on - his girth reminded me of B.B. King! - made me realize how many years have passed since his heyday. But hey, I've put on a few pounds myself in the last twenty years.
I saw many other familiar faces that first hour, both nominees (Natalie Cole, Beyoncé, the adorable India Arie,) and in shots of the audience of people who probably would take to the stage later on (Smokey Robinson, Lionel Richie, Reba McIntire). I found myself hitting the Last button on the remote control when a break came up in Housewives so I could see if I recognized anybody else. There was Ludacris, unrecognizable to me with dark glasses and sans his trademark cornrows. And that guy who looked so little next to a younger performer whose name I can't recall right now - wasn't that Burt Bacharach?
It was during this time that I stopped recognizing people, so I directed my attention fully to the happenings on Wisteria Lane. But I must say that I felt pretty good watching the forty-ninth annual Grammy Awards.
Maybe I'm not so ancient after all.
Who's Not Black Enough?
There's been a lot of talk about black Americans being hesitant to support Barack Obama because he's "not black enough," pointing to his white mother and Kenyan father.
I can see people being uncertain about his experience (six years in the state Senate, two years in the U.S. Senate,) but all the reasons not to support someone, this strikes me as absurd.
American political and activist history is dotted with prominent black Americans who were either born in other countries or born to immigrant parents. The famous militant Stokely Carmichael was born in Trinidad. Malcolm X's mother was from Grenada and supposedly fair enough to pass for white. Shirley Chisholm's mother came from Barbados, her father from Guyana. Colin Powell's parents hailed from Jamaica. Walter White, who led the NAACP for 25 years, was blond-haired and blue-eyed and easily could have crossed to the other side. Marcus Garvey was born in Jamaica. W.E. B. DuBois' father came from the Dominican Republic.
So what could be more black than a man whose father came from Africa, a man who is without a doubt, despite the mixed background, classified as black?
Does anyone out there truly believe that this man has no idea of what it feels like to be a black man living in America?
There's been a lot of talk about black Americans being hesitant to support Barack Obama because he's "not black enough," pointing to his white mother and Kenyan father.
I can see people being uncertain about his experience (six years in the state Senate, two years in the U.S. Senate,) but all the reasons not to support someone, this strikes me as absurd.
American political and activist history is dotted with prominent black Americans who were either born in other countries or born to immigrant parents. The famous militant Stokely Carmichael was born in Trinidad. Malcolm X's mother was from Grenada and supposedly fair enough to pass for white. Shirley Chisholm's mother came from Barbados, her father from Guyana. Colin Powell's parents hailed from Jamaica. Walter White, who led the NAACP for 25 years, was blond-haired and blue-eyed and easily could have crossed to the other side. Marcus Garvey was born in Jamaica. W.E. B. DuBois' father came from the Dominican Republic.
So what could be more black than a man whose father came from Africa, a man who is without a doubt, despite the mixed background, classified as black?
Does anyone out there truly believe that this man has no idea of what it feels like to be a black man living in America?
Yeah, I'm Still Alive
I can't remember the last time I posted. I usually write on my laptop and wrote something yesterday, but my wireless adaptor broke the other day, and the one I bought to replace it doesn't work. I don't know when I'll get it back to the store (returning stuff is such a pain in the ass.) Plus today I had a root canal at my new dentist, realizing midway through that he never asked me about any medical conditions (I have a heart murmur and am supposed to take antibiotics prior to any dental procedure.) Of course, the dentist, after assuring me that such occurrences are rare, promptly gave me a prescription to Cover His Ass (I'll be taking four times as many pills as usual, since it's after the fact.) I called my husband on the way to the pharmacy, telling him that if I drop dead of a bacterial infection the antibiotics were supposed to prevent, to make sure he gets paid.
Now, I've been coughing since I've been home, and my chest feels funny . . . .
It's probably just the writer in me that gives me this flair for the dramatic. I'm not planning on going anywhere.
I can't remember the last time I posted. I usually write on my laptop and wrote something yesterday, but my wireless adaptor broke the other day, and the one I bought to replace it doesn't work. I don't know when I'll get it back to the store (returning stuff is such a pain in the ass.) Plus today I had a root canal at my new dentist, realizing midway through that he never asked me about any medical conditions (I have a heart murmur and am supposed to take antibiotics prior to any dental procedure.) Of course, the dentist, after assuring me that such occurrences are rare, promptly gave me a prescription to Cover His Ass (I'll be taking four times as many pills as usual, since it's after the fact.) I called my husband on the way to the pharmacy, telling him that if I drop dead of a bacterial infection the antibiotics were supposed to prevent, to make sure he gets paid.
Now, I've been coughing since I've been home, and my chest feels funny . . . .
It's probably just the writer in me that gives me this flair for the dramatic. I'm not planning on going anywhere.
Stop to Take a Tinkle
Okay, so by now I’m sure you’ve heard about the crazy NASA employee who drove from Texas to Florida, bent on kidnapping (and possibly murdering) a romantic rival. With every telling of this story in the media – and there have been plenty - it is mentioned early on how she wore a disposable adult diaper so she wouldn’t have to stop to use the bathroom.
That struck me as ludicrous. Not stopping is not an option. It’s 950 miles from Houston to the Space Coast, for crying out loud. There’s not a vehicle on the market that can travel that distance without a refill, probably two. So what’s the problem? Why couldn’t she stop to use the facilities - or at the very least, put on a fresh diaper (ugh) - at the same time she stopped to fill the tank? Personally, I never understood how even 1-year-olds can continue running around playing when they're wet or poopy. But for a grown woman to keep driving under those circumstances is just inconceivable.
Looks like the media is making the case for the insanity/mental defect claim that is sure to follow.
Okay, so by now I’m sure you’ve heard about the crazy NASA employee who drove from Texas to Florida, bent on kidnapping (and possibly murdering) a romantic rival. With every telling of this story in the media – and there have been plenty - it is mentioned early on how she wore a disposable adult diaper so she wouldn’t have to stop to use the bathroom.
That struck me as ludicrous. Not stopping is not an option. It’s 950 miles from Houston to the Space Coast, for crying out loud. There’s not a vehicle on the market that can travel that distance without a refill, probably two. So what’s the problem? Why couldn’t she stop to use the facilities - or at the very least, put on a fresh diaper (ugh) - at the same time she stopped to fill the tank? Personally, I never understood how even 1-year-olds can continue running around playing when they're wet or poopy. But for a grown woman to keep driving under those circumstances is just inconceivable.
Looks like the media is making the case for the insanity/mental defect claim that is sure to follow.
Danger, Falling Temps
Those of you who drop by regularly might remember that back when I first started blogging last October, I wrote an essay on my first winter in 17 years, courtesy of living in Florida. Well, I'm getting a beaut!
We are in the midst of a deep freeze that's literally as cold as your freezer. I woke up this morning to hear the meteorologists warning people not to go out unless they have to, because wind chills are already below zero and will go as low as -25.
Hard to stay in on a Saturday; that's the day when many of us run our errands: The post office, the bank, the supermarket, manicurist/hairdresser/barber, the gas station to fill up for the week (and to guard against having the contents of your tank freeze,) the car dealership to get those spark plugs changed that you should have done a month ago. Hopefully those with children can leave them with a trusted sitter. (In the What Was She Thinking category, one Chicago woman has been charged with endangering the welfare of a minor for leaving her 1-year-old alone in an unheated car while she and her 5-year-old went into a supermarket.)
So chin up, fellow sufferers!! Relief is in sight early next week, when it'll go up to 17 above.
Brrrrr.
Those of you who drop by regularly might remember that back when I first started blogging last October, I wrote an essay on my first winter in 17 years, courtesy of living in Florida. Well, I'm getting a beaut!
We are in the midst of a deep freeze that's literally as cold as your freezer. I woke up this morning to hear the meteorologists warning people not to go out unless they have to, because wind chills are already below zero and will go as low as -25.
Hard to stay in on a Saturday; that's the day when many of us run our errands: The post office, the bank, the supermarket, manicurist/hairdresser/barber, the gas station to fill up for the week (and to guard against having the contents of your tank freeze,) the car dealership to get those spark plugs changed that you should have done a month ago. Hopefully those with children can leave them with a trusted sitter. (In the What Was She Thinking category, one Chicago woman has been charged with endangering the welfare of a minor for leaving her 1-year-old alone in an unheated car while she and her 5-year-old went into a supermarket.)
So chin up, fellow sufferers!! Relief is in sight early next week, when it'll go up to 17 above.
Brrrrr.
Al to Joe: “I take a bath every day . . .”
I truly was offended, as well as dismayed, at the use of Senator Joseph Biden’s use of the word “clean” to describe Senator Barack Obama, while simultaneously saying it hadn’t applied to any previous African-American presidential aspirants. This relates to an old method of whites, particularly in the South (Northern whites are more likely to smile in black folks’ faces and call them “that nigger” behind their backs) to insult blacks, by saying they smell bad, don’t use soap, etc. To be honest, it really stung to hear the Senator's remarks, which were as inappropriate as they were invalid. Jesse Jackson always looks immaculate, and Al Sharpton’s hair is better coiffed than mine!
As I listened to Biden’s bumbling attempt to explain what he meant, “Fresh” rather than “clean,” it suddenly came to me: He meant clean, as in politically clean. (I know that’s not what he said he meant, but the man was busy trying to Cover His Ass.)
Think about it. Jesse Jackson has been involved in scandals, from extramarital affairs to car dealerships. Al Sharpton’s career was built on a scandalous incident, or maybe I should say allegations of a scandalous incident, since I believed then and now that the whole Tawana Brawley incident was a hoax (and I haven’t cared for Al Sharpton since, in spite of wishing I could get my hair touched up before my roots get tough as an overdone steak.) Carol Moseley Braun was involved in a scandal.
I don’t recall any clouds over L. Douglas Wilder, former governor of Virginia. And I certainly don’t remember Shirley Chisholm’s name ever being mixed up in any improprieties. But I don’t believe Biden was referring to Wilder or Chisholm, neither of whom were considered serious candidates in terms of the numbers of votes they could potentially get. For that matter, neither was Al Sharpton, but Jesse Jackson proved himself to be a force to be reckoned with. How glorious it must have been for blacks who lived under the shadow of legally enforced segregation all their lives to be able to vote for a black man for the nation's highest office.
But of course Biden, who has an admitted plagiarism in his own past, could hardly criticize anyone else for having soiled hands. (Personally, I don’t believe that politics and honesty go together any more than catfish and ice cream, no matter who the subject is.) That would make him sound even less articulate than he is.
Speaking of articulate, in the debates among presidential contenders, I remember noting that Jesse Jackson was the only one I could listen to who didn’t make me doze off, and years later, the same thing with Al Sharpton. They are both gifted speakers.
I don’t see Biden’s aspirations to be President going anywhere. The man’s strategy is to play up his experience in foreign policy. But if he can’t handle his fellow Democrats, why would anyone consider putting him in the most powerful position in the world?
I truly was offended, as well as dismayed, at the use of Senator Joseph Biden’s use of the word “clean” to describe Senator Barack Obama, while simultaneously saying it hadn’t applied to any previous African-American presidential aspirants. This relates to an old method of whites, particularly in the South (Northern whites are more likely to smile in black folks’ faces and call them “that nigger” behind their backs) to insult blacks, by saying they smell bad, don’t use soap, etc. To be honest, it really stung to hear the Senator's remarks, which were as inappropriate as they were invalid. Jesse Jackson always looks immaculate, and Al Sharpton’s hair is better coiffed than mine!
As I listened to Biden’s bumbling attempt to explain what he meant, “Fresh” rather than “clean,” it suddenly came to me: He meant clean, as in politically clean. (I know that’s not what he said he meant, but the man was busy trying to Cover His Ass.)
Think about it. Jesse Jackson has been involved in scandals, from extramarital affairs to car dealerships. Al Sharpton’s career was built on a scandalous incident, or maybe I should say allegations of a scandalous incident, since I believed then and now that the whole Tawana Brawley incident was a hoax (and I haven’t cared for Al Sharpton since, in spite of wishing I could get my hair touched up before my roots get tough as an overdone steak.) Carol Moseley Braun was involved in a scandal.
I don’t recall any clouds over L. Douglas Wilder, former governor of Virginia. And I certainly don’t remember Shirley Chisholm’s name ever being mixed up in any improprieties. But I don’t believe Biden was referring to Wilder or Chisholm, neither of whom were considered serious candidates in terms of the numbers of votes they could potentially get. For that matter, neither was Al Sharpton, but Jesse Jackson proved himself to be a force to be reckoned with. How glorious it must have been for blacks who lived under the shadow of legally enforced segregation all their lives to be able to vote for a black man for the nation's highest office.
But of course Biden, who has an admitted plagiarism in his own past, could hardly criticize anyone else for having soiled hands. (Personally, I don’t believe that politics and honesty go together any more than catfish and ice cream, no matter who the subject is.) That would make him sound even less articulate than he is.
Speaking of articulate, in the debates among presidential contenders, I remember noting that Jesse Jackson was the only one I could listen to who didn’t make me doze off, and years later, the same thing with Al Sharpton. They are both gifted speakers.
I don’t see Biden’s aspirations to be President going anywhere. The man’s strategy is to play up his experience in foreign policy. But if he can’t handle his fellow Democrats, why would anyone consider putting him in the most powerful position in the world?
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