300

Yay for 300!!  


I'm not talking about the movie, either.  I'm talking about DHD (Dry Humor Daily).  Today is my 300th post!  Yipee!

Now...  Business.  I'm leaving Washington today to fly back home to good old Fort Worth, Texas.  I can honestly say, I've missed Texas.  But before I go, I'd like to share a few observations about Eastern Washington.

#1 - There are espresso shacks everywhere!  I would hate to see what would happen to these people if they all just shut down one day.  It would be like a real-life zombie apocalypse!

#2 - There are tons of mattress stores around here.  How in the heck do they all stay in business?!  Is everyone living in the northwest chronically tired or something?

#3 - Idahoans are the butt ends of a lot of jokes around here.  I haven't yet gotten a good explanation as to why.

#4 - It is May and the temperature can still be in the 30's in the mornings.  What . . . the . . . heck.  The overnight lows in Fort Worth are higher than the all-day highs up here in Spokane.  Why does anyone inhabit this part of the country?  Cold = No Bueno.

#5 - There is no plural form of the word "highway" here.  Why?  Because there's only one.  That's it.

In spite of the cold weather and over-abundant mattress outlets, I'd live here.  It's a nice town, Spokane, WA.  (You wouldn't catch me in Idaho too much, though, that's for sure, lol.)

Idaho

We drove over to Idaho today after work.  Do you want to know what I brought back from that trip?  A freaking parking ticket.  We stopped in Coeur d'Alene to see the famous lake and boardwalk.  So we parked in what seemed like the "this-is-where-you-park-when-you-just-want-to-see-the-famous-lake-and-boardwalk" parking lot.

WRONG!!!


After a brief, 15 minute walk halfway down the boardwalk and back, there was a tiny green envelope on the windshield with a $20 parking ticket inside.  What a freaking joke.

No wonder no one lives in Idaho . . .

Continental

Let's talk about hotels for a minute.  I like the hotel our company holed us up in.  The bed is huge.  The TV is nice (although I haven't turned it on yet and probably won't . . . it's still nice).  The room is quite spacious and has  all of the necessities, including mini-fridge and microwave.  Pretty sweet pad . . .

BUT . . .


What in the world is it about hotel continental breakfast that they just can't seem to get real eggs?  Why do they always used powdered eggs?  Or worse, powdered-egg-substitute!  I don't get it!

They have real yogurt, real oatmeal, real sausage, real bagels, real coffee, real etcetera.  But the eggs aren't?  Why?  Are they expensive?  No.  Are they difficult to prepare?  No (at least, probably not more so than the powdered ones).  Powdered eggs are an abomination to jentation!  They have about as much nutrition as they have taste: none.  It's as if the only deciding factor in choosing to go with powdered eggs is that they're yellow.  I mean come on!  I don't think a starving dog would eat them.

I wish I had every hotel's attention when I say: get some real eggs!  Quit being cheap.  Continental breakfast should be a perk, not a universal disappointment.

(I'm done ranting, now.  I'm gonna go eat some universal disappointments.)

Plane Manners

I don't know if I've mentioned this yet, but I'm out of town this week on business.  (Don't worry, I'll still be posting.  As a matter of fact, I have plenty to post about.)  Anyway, I am in Eastern Washington state, which is a far cry from Dallas/Fort Worth.  Literally, it took two, two-and-a-half hour flights to get here.  As we all know, flying is hardly ever without incident.  I have a story for you from yesterday.

I was sitting in my seat, waiting for the last people to board and for the flight attendant to close the door.  I had an open aisle seat next to me that I was getting excited about the prospect of moving to.  Well, just before the door was going to shut, an older, larger man lumbered onto the plane.  He looked confused as to where to sit.  (Understandable, given the way the rows were so badly labeled.)  A man in the row behind me muttered some choice words because he had an open middle seat next to him which could belong to the old man.  We were all obviously hoping that the old man's seat wasn't the open one next to us.

It turns out that his seat was the middle one in the row behind me with the choice-words-guy.  I was relieved.  Then, the guy behind me suggests, not so nicely, that the old man take an aisle seat instead of the middle next to him.  He pointed to the one next to me.  So, the older man, who obviously spoke English as a second language, obliged and squeezed into the seat next to me.   As the situation unfolded, I shot the dirtiest look to the guy behind me.

If I wasn't representing my employer, I might have said what I was thinking:
-You've got a real heart-of-gold, huh pal?
-Oh, real funny, *$% *&@#$
-How chivalrous . . .


I sat there, wishing with all my might that the old man would lean his seat aaaaaaaaaaaalllllll the way back.  I wished he would fall asleep and drool all over the guy behind me.  I mean, what a jerk, trying to act all in-the-best-interest-of-the-elderly-but-clearly-acting-out-of-pure-self-interest.  Sheesh!

On the bright side, Spokane is pretty nice!  :)  It's weird that there's only one real highway through town.  I'm used to DFW, which has seven high-ways to Sunday to get wherever you're going, lol.  

Got any plane horror stories to share?  Please do!

Double Dose

Cursed daylight savings!!!

Yesterday morning, I was very tired.  It wasn't because I went to bed particularly late.  It was because my alarm has been going off particularly early.  Why?  Daylight-freaking-savings.  Grrrrr!!!!  Here's what happened when I got to work:

I put my stuff down at my desk.  Next, I considered the unpredictable coffee already in the coffee pot at work.  Then, I considered the highly predictable Starbucks Via instant coffee in my desk drawer.  Any guesses which won?

Via.

So I grabbed my trusty mug, added some via, some splenda, some cream, AND . . .

---Side note---
Normally, one would add piping hot water to make instant coffee.  Well, due to my gross lack of sleep and unusual morning grogginess, I grabbed the coffee pitcher (instead of the hot water) and went to town on my beautifully prepared instant coffee mixings.

Also normally, one would notice when they perform a regular task in an irregular way.  Not me.  Not yesterday.
---End side note---

So I sit back down and begin reading my emails.  The coffee smelled particularly strong, but I took no note.  As soon as I thought my coffee would be cool enough no longer burn the very buds from my tongue, I took a sip . . . bad move.

Have you ever been in one of those situations where you drink something really really bad and you have to spit it out like you see on TV?  Or spew because you drink something and someone makes you laugh?  Today was one of those days.  I nearly spewed my coffee EVERYWHERE!  Why?  Because instant coffee made with coffee tastes like monkey bung hole!  (That's just speculation, by the way.)

Note to self:  Don't make instant coffee with actual coffee.
Note to readers:  Don't make instant coffee with actual coffee.  It's putrid.

Trenta

Trenta


What kind of former Starbucks employee would I be if I didn't bring up the "trenta."  (The what-a?)  Trenta.  (Ah, okay.)  Trenta is the latest addition to Starbucks' beverage size offerings.  Behold!

That bad boy on the left there is the Trenta, sized up against the now-paltry Venti.  It doesn't look all that different, right?  It is.  You see, I still have many friends who work there and I got lay eyes on one on Monday, the night before its big debut.  Here's how it went:

Friend:   Hey, Cole, have you heard about the Trenta, yet?

Me:       Yeah, they were testing it in very select markets about a year ago before I left.  Why?

Friend:   Starts tomorrow.  Check it out.  (Friend scuttles to the back and returns with the new cup and hands it to me.)

Me:       Hmm.  (I carefully wrapped my hand and my brain around the wholly American idea of a fifth drink size option.)  Well, it doesn't look that big.

Friend:   Yeah, but look at the Venti.  (No scuttling to the back for this one.  He placed one on the counter less impressively.)

Me:        Oh . . . 

Friend:   Yeah . . .

Me:        Oh my . . .

Friend:   Yeah . . .

Talk about lions, tigers, and bears.  The new Trenta size is obscenely large, 31 ounces to be exact.  Starbucks has been historically good at listening to their consumers' wants and needs, but I think this brushes awfully close to socially and corporately irresponsible.  The only reason it doesn't cross the line is because supposedly, you can only get it filled with iced tea or iced coffee.  But let's face it, people will be asking for the forbidden trenta-sized frappuccinos . . . low-fat of course.  :)

Shredder Safety 101

Shredder Safety 101


Just checking if I'm reading the warnings on this paper shredder correctly,

#1 No babies.
#2 No left hands.

Sounds risky...

Tuesday 8/10

Coffee Flow

You kill it, you fill it.  That’s the unwritten law, at least.  (You know, someone should really write all those down.)  In Boy Scout camp, that meant you had to go get back in line and painstakingly wait for more lemonade while the other kids ate your seconds.  At home, that meant you had to refill the water jug in the refrigerator while your friends un-paused the video game you were all playing as they kill off your idle, helpless player in your absence.  In the office world, that means you have to put more paper in the printer.  You would do it for yourself, right?

When it comes to coffee, you don’t want to mess around, especially first thing in the morning.  If you take the last cup in the office at 7:31 in the morning, you better plan on filling that bad boy back up!  It’s bad karma if you don’t.  Here is a helpful chart to decide when to make more coffee:

Wednesday 8/4

Yes, Please


For those long days at work . . .

By: S. Cole Garrett