A traitor's review on BK

When I used to work at Dunkin' Donuts, my friends would squabble about what fast food
place was better, Mc Donald's or Burger King. For me, the choice had been obvious,
Mc Donald's, duh! What fast food could even compare to everything Mc Donald's offers,
tasty 99c menu, Mocha Frappe' and the slew of desserts. Loyal to Mc Donald's I would always be... We'll, after some time I decided, why not? Why not try the enemy's food? It's not like they could possibly beat Mc Donald's anyways.

So that's exactly what I did, it was 10:00pm and I had just gotten off of work. Hungry, cold, and exhausted, I looked for a beacon of light in the dark night. I saw
Taco Bell was open, Subway, but what I was really looking for was Burger King. I was nervous, if someone saw me, if they knew my feeling about Burger King, I would never live the shame down. I had to be cautious. So stealthy I roamed the streets, constantly checking my rear view mirror. I saw a white sedan behind me at one point, mimicking my every move, scared, I turned into a dark street. The sedan slowed at the light, but continued to go on.

I exhaled.

Finally, almost home I saw the red BK. I made one last check into the rear view mirror and then turned quickly into the lot. The turn had been so quick that my car started smoking and my tires had screeched in agony.

The horror.

After I stopped my beating heart, I checked the time, 10:30pm. The lot was empty and they seemed to be closed, but the glowing sign on the window said "open late." Relieved, I drove into the drive thru. The order taker's voice boomed thru the speaker, "Welcome to Burger King, how may I help you?" Freaked, I wanted to tell him to keep his voice down. He was trying to give me away, I just knew it. He mustve' known that I was on enemy soil. He might as well had placed a sign on my forehead saying that I was a traitor to the crown.. (get it? I was pretty clever here). My throat constricted as I quickly looked at the menu, cheap. Think cheap. I ordered the Hershey's Pie and the crispy sandwich. That would be enough. I drove up to the window and the order taker eyed me suspiciously. I checked my breath. It didn't smell like Mc Donald's, he had no proof! I paid my soul (food) to the order taker and drove off so fast, I was sure a cop was going to stop me.

Thankfully, none did. When I got home, I placed the food before me. Thanked the Lord for the food and that no one had seen me and also repented for the sin I was about to commit. The Hershey pie was glorious!!!! It was an ice cream, but not, pie but not, chocolate, but was. It was great! I could not believe how good the pie was especially because it had only been $1.39. One victory point for BK, then I tried the chicken sandwich which surprisingly was better then Mc Donald's Hot n Spicy. It wasn't too spicy, it was just right. I had also only paid $1 for this item. Satisfied, but guilty, I tossed the evidence in the garbage can outside. I had gone to the dark side (BK) and I would never go back...

:insert evil laugh:

p.s. I have tried the Whopper from BK, never will I do so again. The bun was the only good part of the sandwich, not worth the money, not worth throwing up and the constant runs to the bathroom to make mini whopper's. Avoid this burger. Maybe it was payback for my treacherous spirit, either way, avoidance is key.

Homeless vs. Sign Flipper

Often while driving to my favorite thrift store, I'll see a sign flipper/spinner or two. I love watching them. Mostly because I'm evil and take pleasure in honking, waving and otherwise embarrassing them especially that one guy that wears the statue of liberty getup. Maybe I do it because I'm grateful that it's not me out there in the 98+ degree weather or maybe it's just because I love honking at people and that's the only time I'm really allowed to.

Anyways, I realized the other day that the flipper is not much different from a homeless.

This is what I came up with.

Similarities
1. Both are outside making money
2. Both work the day shift(I don't think I've ever seen a flipper at night.. it'd be pretty pointless. I don't know where the homeless go at night, but... I don't think I really want to know.)
3.Both work in all weather conditions (one time there was a storm in Tucson, unbelievable as it may sound, and the flipper was out there, his sign covering his head from the rain, the wind almost tearing it away. I felt bad for him, so, I did what any citizen would do, I honked :)
4. Both are wearing a costume/uniform of some sort (this is true, what person would be willing to give a homeless money if they were wearing nice clothes? They must look grungy, it's the uniform)
5. Both are holding signs!
6. The signs are trying to sway people to feel a certain way (for the flipper it's usually a fast food place and people feel hungry even if they had just eaten, the homeless, it's usually to make people feel bad for them)

Differences
1. Homeless are homeless while a flipper probably has a home
2. A flipper is usually cleaner and presentable opposed to a homeless
3. Flipper's must stand their whole shift while homeless have the luxury of sitting down on a plastic chair, rock, or bucket.
4. (This one can be argued) Homeless make more an hour. Flipper's make minimum wage and they don't make any more then that. A homeless is often offered food, money and other things people deem to give them.
5. A homeless is not working for anybody/under anybody.
6. A homeless decides when to quit working and can call in sick whenever they like

And that's alllll folks.

TIMER

I've always said to myself and to other people that it'd be awesome to have the novel of our lives. We'd know exactly what would happen, when to expect it and most importantly, we could be prepared for it. What I really meant by that was, we'd know exactly who we were getting married to. It sounds boring, almost like an arranged marriage, being "forced" to marry that person. But in my mind, it sounded great. It was a dream that I wished would come true. There would be no more guessing, no more wondering, no more heart breaks and no more wasting time.

Perfect.

But it's not perfect. I sat down to watch a movie the other day and I chose TIMER. I had no idea what the movie was about, but the cover looked interesting. I was definitely surprised by the reality of TIMER and how the world would be like. It was really a slap in the face or... wrist. It'd be terrible to know, it'd be terrible to be basing one's happiness on a timer instead of God's time or when you absolutely knew your ready for a relationship.

So TIMER is about a wrist watch that tells you exactly when you are going to meet the love of your life. When you turn 14, you can choose to get the watch for a low fee of $79.99 and viola, it will tell you the exact years, hours, days and minutes until you meet your true love. Once the watch zero's out, you are guaranteed to meet your love within 24 hours. All you have to do is look into your love's eyes and both of the timer's will beep and that's when you know you found them. Whatever happens after that is up to you. Yes, this method takes out the guess work, but it also takes out everything else as well. Sometimes people have to enter into relationships to learn more about themselves, to grow or even just to trust in God that they really don't know anything.

Not only that, the main character of the movie had a strange case. She was 31 and her timer hadn't even started yet. You find out later in the movie that is because the "love of her life" had chosen not to get the timer yet. She became so consumed with the timer though that she tossed away good relationships and guys that would have made her happy, maybe even more happy then who the timer chose for her. Finally, after allowing herself to fall in love with a guy that didn't have a timer, she decides to take her's off.

Great decision. That is, until her timer begins ticking away right at the moment they were about to take it off.

Five hours.

That is what her timer said. Only five hours until she met "him." The offer was too good to be true. Stay with the guy she honestly, truly fell in love with or pick the guy the timer said for her to be with. At the moment, she couldn't decide. She waited all those years, denied herself all that time. She had to at least know who it was. When her timer beeps and she see's "him," the world stops, time stops.. blah blah, but basically, she can't go back to the other guy now that she has "him." It's an unhappy, but happy ending, right?

Well what if her "true love" hadn't gotten the timer? Would she have continued to let life pass her, deny herself happiness?

If she had taken off the timer and chosen the other guy, would she have second guessed herself for the rest of her life? Wondered who the other guy was, the one she was "supposed" to be with?

Of course there is no real answer, but the reality is a scary one. I'm glad that we don't have those, that we don't have our life's novel, but that we have a better guarantee. God's guarantee. Guarantee that we will find the love of our lives, but that he/she will come when He thinks we are ready.

When the time is right.

The Lonely Cat Thief

Driving behind a mail truck, a sticker caught my eye, "Stealing mail is five years in prison." I thought about this and considered the type of person that would steal mail.

There are five types I can think of:

A. Person that is looking for checks, money and that kind of thing.
B. Person that gets a thrill from opening someones mailbox kind of like those people that go to a door, ring the doorbell and run off.
C. Person that wants more of a particular coupon and knows their neighbor has one (this is not from experience :)
D. Person that has mailbox envy, sees a particular house get more mail then them. (This reminds me of the 'guy with the most toy's win' just in this case it's more mail)
E. Person who lives their life through other people's mailboxes.

Before you decide to write out E completely, think about it. E is serious. I'm sure that there are really people out there that feel the need to open someones mailbox in hope that they find a personal letter (who gets those nowadays) because they never get anything personal besides the bills that "know" how much they spent that month. I'm sure this kind of person hopes for a birthday card when they open someones mailbox because no one remembers their birthday, even with the notification on Facebook. What if they have no friends on Facebook to see it? I'm sure this kind of person wants friendship/ any kind of relationship so much that they feel stealing from someones mailbox and it's consequences is worth it. What's five years compared to a lifetime of loneliness? It seems extreme, but if there are people out there that admit to living their lives through entertainment like T.V. shows because it's more interesting, safe and provides them with relationships that they never would have in real life (friendships with no strings attached) then I'm sure this kind of person exists.

So next time you see your mailbox empty even though you know you were supposed to get something, think of the lonely cat thief and smile.

You just made his day.

A Review On "Chipotle"

It's a Sunday and already Chipotle is crowded. All the tables inside and most of the patio ones are taken. Then there is a long line almost out the door with customers impatiently waiting to be served. The workers making the food are annoyed, anxious and trying to deal with the pressure of guests mumbling their orders and the constant noises rippling around the room. It's a difficult life they lead.

The people in front of me are a group of four, all huddled together, reading and re-reading the menu, staring off into space and logging their locations on Facebook. Once I reach the counter, the tortilla guy looks at me expectantly. I tell him burrito with chicken. He nods and spits out, "Black or Pinto beans." I say pinto, but he looks up at me again and re asks the question. I point at the beans this time. My burrito is quickly passed to the next person and he in turn asks, "salsa?" I tell him sour cream and corn. He nods and then asks again, "salsa?" I say no. Annoyed, he asks me for the third time while looking down at my burrito, "salsa? I can't hear you." I want to suggest some eye contact, but what can one expect from a Mexican, but not restaurant? Finally he figures I don't want it, folds it up, writes a "C" on the foil and passes it to the cashier. Her eyes move around my body towards the line while she asks, "chips? salsa? anything on the side? something to drink?" I tell her no and she puts out her hand expectantly while she says my total. As if realizing that she has been rude, she compliments me on my earrings which I wonder if she had seen at all or if she had said it to the universe. She hands me my food and thanks me with no conviction.

I sit down and eat my burrito. Although I've been told on numerous occasions that Chipotle is so good and one of the best Mexican restaurants, it failed to meet my expectations. The burrito had little to no flavor even with all the ingredients I attempted to add to it. Even the chicken needed salt or something so overall the burrito was bland and all texture.

The very next day, excuse the term, I "blew chunks" and not from my mouth. So, my total experience was not a good one and I fail to see why Chipotle is so popular. Even the prices on their menu are ridiculous. If one pays THAT much money for food, it should be good, flavorful and sick free.

Silk To The Worm

So, the other day I was at my friend's house trying to learn how to use excel (it's NOT as scary as it sounds)and her aunts had the TV on to the "Bizarre Foods" channel and let me tell you, I was mind blown. They were eating silkworms! I know some people like worms for breakfast.. or snacks but as for me and my stomach, we will eat regular, normal food.
So I'm not exactly sure what country the guy was in, but they had these giant pans with silkworms and the ladies would grab them (cocoon and all), toss them into a frying pot, eat the worms once they were semi-cool and start removing the silk from the cocoons. They really get their money's worth or.. worm's worth from those little guys. Not to mention the barefoot kids running around eating the worms like they were skittles.
I'm sure in some places (like this) worms are a delicacy. Sure, I love my silk. Sure, I approve of making the most of what's around you but... eating... worms.
I have a hard time even thinking of eating those lollipops they have in Mexico with real worms, caterpillars, grasshoppers and scorpions. In fact, I can't even touch one of those without thinking that it'll raise up from the dead and start moving in it's sugary tomb.

Wine

Amy Winehouse, like her name, really is like a wine. When first trying her music, you get a bitter taste in your mouth almost like coffee grinds between your teeth. You want to spit her out and pronto. At least, that's the way I first felt when hearing her. Maybe I had a bias because they compared her to Adele, my most favorite jazzy, beautiful voiced singer as of right now so I had standards. I expected them to be similar in every way.

They are not.

While Adele's music is clean of cussing and explicit body parts, Amy is not afraid to drop the f bomb or talk about men in ways I don't want to hear. Then the way they carry themselves is completely different too. Adele wears classy outfits, quiet or acceptable makeup opposed to Amy who's known for her blacker then black makeup and scanty outfits. To the unaccustomed tongue, wine is nasty! (I do not drink wine for religious as well as taste reasons, but for the purpose of this comparison, I will act like I do). It's an acquired taste. Amy has grown on me. She's a glass with cheese on a rainy day. Her sultry voice on full blast and the windows pulled up is the perfect combination. I still don't condone her lifestyle or 90% of her songs, but the four I have come to apperciate is from her Back to Black Album...

Rehab

You Know I'm No Good

Love Is A Losing Game

Some Unholy War

So although she is not like my Adele, I still think she has some real talent and if she lets her songs age a little, can be everyone's taste.