I noticed an elderly gentleman use his handkerchief to open the door and thought, "that's smart" except that when he goes to blow his nose he'll get door germs? Unless he only uses the inside to blow his nose. Personally, I could never use a handkerchief because it just seemed gross. Except I liked that they could be monogrammed. Still, not enough motivation to get past the grossness.
Anyway, I was there and one of the doors was clearly broken and had a big arrow taped on it, pointing to the other door. I knew as soon as I saw it that it meant "use the other door," but then, I'm quick that way.
One after another, people would come up, try to use the left door (first, why not the right?) and it wouldn't work. And they'd keep tugging at it, as if that would help. Then they looked around, helpless, like the place was locked--except, there were people inside! How would they get in for their weird-ass twin-taco? Yes, there was another entrance but that was like 20 feet away, so just... keep... tugging...
The best was the people who were inside, who'd tug and tug, as if they were going to be unable to leave the restaurant, trapped forever in a morass of refried beans.
When I got closer to the door I saw a new notice that talked about shellfish allergies, and it was near the arrow, so perhaps people thought that the arrow meant that people with shellfish allergies should use the other door, as if this one was somehow contaminated with the essence of shrimp. No, that can't be it, I'm not convinced they could read--hell, they couldn't even decipher the meaning of an arrow!
This did make me frightened to eat there, simply because I didn't want to eat anywhere they were eating lest it mean I was like them. But then I know what arrows mean, which immediately sets me apart as some kind of genius. Relatively speaking.
Anyway, I was there and one of the doors was clearly broken and had a big arrow taped on it, pointing to the other door. I knew as soon as I saw it that it meant "use the other door," but then, I'm quick that way.
One after another, people would come up, try to use the left door (first, why not the right?) and it wouldn't work. And they'd keep tugging at it, as if that would help. Then they looked around, helpless, like the place was locked--except, there were people inside! How would they get in for their weird-ass twin-taco? Yes, there was another entrance but that was like 20 feet away, so just... keep... tugging...
The best was the people who were inside, who'd tug and tug, as if they were going to be unable to leave the restaurant, trapped forever in a morass of refried beans.
When I got closer to the door I saw a new notice that talked about shellfish allergies, and it was near the arrow, so perhaps people thought that the arrow meant that people with shellfish allergies should use the other door, as if this one was somehow contaminated with the essence of shrimp. No, that can't be it, I'm not convinced they could read--hell, they couldn't even decipher the meaning of an arrow!
This did make me frightened to eat there, simply because I didn't want to eat anywhere they were eating lest it mean I was like them. But then I know what arrows mean, which immediately sets me apart as some kind of genius. Relatively speaking.
I felt better when, for the very first time, the guy at the register had a name tag that said, "Manager/Co-owner". Really? It was co-owned by a real human being? I'd actually never thought of that, I thought they were all just sticky tentacles of PepsiCo (ooh, I was looking at their brands and now I want caramel corn--speaking of which, Safeway was selling small bags of "kettle corn" from a bay area company called Gold Rush, and I'd really wanted some caramel corn but didn't want something that sugary and sticky--well, this Gold Rush kettle korn is fantastic--it's like salty popcorn with a touch of sweet, not that heavy high-fructose corn syrup coating on the boxed caramel corn things--I highly recommend this: http://www.goldrushpopcorn.com
Oh, Lord, I don't even know what I'm writing, I'm half asleep from allergies and only think I'm lucid because of the Nasonex which goes straight to your brain and convinces you that you are making sense. I know I will read this in a few months, when allergy season is over, and realize it was a mistake to post it. But I can't help myself now. I'm clicking on "Publish Post," because it's a pretty orange button. Pretty. Orange. Button. Press.
Oh, Lord, I don't even know what I'm writing, I'm half asleep from allergies and only think I'm lucid because of the Nasonex which goes straight to your brain and convinces you that you are making sense. I know I will read this in a few months, when allergy season is over, and realize it was a mistake to post it. But I can't help myself now. I'm clicking on "Publish Post," because it's a pretty orange button. Pretty. Orange. Button. Press.
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