This is where product review gold is found. You will find the most minuscule complaints about how a product didn’t meet expectations. Complaints like, the golf GPS not lowering your score because you are not able to hit your pitching wedge 170 yards like Dustin Johnson.
My favorite so far is reading a Yelp one-star restaurant review. The restaurant wasn’t known for making wraps. In fact, they didn’t have wraps on their menu. The lady asked them to make her a wrap and she had to explain what a wrap was. So when the wrap didn’t come back as she liked she complained and gave a 1-star review of the whole place.
I understand one-star reviews for terrible products, but bringing your subjectivity into the complaint is another thing. I tend to either leave five or one-star reviews. There is no middle ground for me. All it takes is one small experience and I will never go back.
I like the idea of the Coca-Cola Freestyle and I love the options, however it’s not worth the anxiety attack. Once you get to the front of the line you are inundated with a plethora of beverage configurations. As you are mashing buttons a line begins forming with anxious patrons with lids half cocked waiting to fill their containers with carbonated corn syrup and artificial flavoring.
I’m all for consumer options but this machine basically causes a traffic jam. I’ve even seen these in airports, a place where there is enough traffic. I’m a bit disappointed that there’s no button for an extra shot of caffeine, which would turbo charge any beverage selection. This would also be a great product placement for a Xanax button for a shot of relaxation. This would ease the anxiety about the five people in line waiting to stab you in the orbital socket with a bendy straw.
JUST PICK ONE!
While great in theory the execution can be painful. If you have these in your restaurant then have a minimum of two machines. People have enough trouble retrieving sporks and straws and now you present them with thousands of flavor combinations?
Think about what flavor you want beforehand. There is nothing more frustrating that watching someone hunt and peck for Orange Flavored Sunkist when it’s not even a Coke product. Have an additional dispenser for just ice and water, this will speed up the queue and reduce the glacier of ice that has formed because of trigger happy customers. I would also be nice if these machines could detect the type of drinking vessel so that you don’t cascade the soda over the cup onto your hand. Or maybe just have one size for this machine and tune it for proper filling.
Where do you really call Home? Is it the place you were born or the place where you’ve lived the longest? Is it the place where all of your stuff is? I would say it’s where you want it to be. I mean, my kids were both born in Tennessee, but they are really from South Carolina. Even though my son wears Mountaineer gear and my daughter wants to constantly visit Orlando. But just remember nobody wants a backstory. They just want to know where you currently live because they want to judge your accent and speech patterns.
When I tell people I’m from West Virginia I usually hear. “Oh what part? I love Roanoke and the Shenandoah Valley!” I have to say. “You know West Virginia is a whole separate state right?” It’s like having to explain to someone. “I’m from South Carolina” and hearing. “Oh, I just love the Charlotte area!”
When I travel up North I hear, “You don’t sound like you are from South Carolina”. Yeah, I know! I’ve picked up a hybrid accent from West Virginia, Alabama, Tennessee, and the Carolina’s. I do my best to enunciate and speak clearly, but once I’m tired I’m not sure which dialect will surface. Sorry for the backstory.
I don’t puke that easily, so cleaning up my kid’s vomit was not an issue. It’s weird, it’s like God gives you anti-upchuck receptors for your own children.
However, once I smell my own stomach contents the upchuck flows effortlessly. While I’m down there commode hugging, if I haven’t cleaned the toilet recently, it moves matters forward. The worst case is when I stayed with my Granny in Nitro, WV when I was about 10 years old. I was sleeping on a cot in the dining room and woke up hollering vomit into my pillow, splashing all over my face and overflowing into the floor. It just kept flowing and woke everyone in the house. It had to be the butter-flavored Crisco popcorn and Cool Ranch Doritos having an argument on who gets the last bite of overcooked fried chicken.
I would like to buy a motorcycle one day. One thing that is stopping me is that I don’t want to wave at everyone else riding a motorcycle. I’m just not that friendly. The other thing stopping me is the fear of scraping my face on the pavement. Even if I’m wearing a helmet it would still not be pleasant. There are two memorable moments in my life that keep me on four wheels.
My first major memory comes from living in Hampton Virginia. I heard tell of a story of a person who launched himself and his significant other onto the asphalt close to the beach. I remember visiting them in the hospital. The lady kept assuring me she was feeling great despite having her face covered in dried blood and her appendages encased in plaster. It was probably the little button she was pushing that gave her such high spirits.
The second major memory is when I obtained a Honda Trail Bike at the age of 15. On its maiden voyage, I propelled myself over the handlebars into a creek. Once I landed in the creek I couldn’t feel my legs for about 5 seconds. I walked the bike back home and didn’t ride again.
So why do they wave at each other? I think it’s because they are part of a secret society. To be honest, they should keep both hands on the grips. You know, the whole face pavement scraping thing.
When I was first married, I thought it would be nice to slowly introduce the spouse to some food I enjoyed while living in the Deep South. One night I prepared Red Beans and Rice with cornbread. I went all out and bought two boxes of Tony Chachere’s from the local Food Lion. Well after a few bites in she decided it was too spicy, and plus I forgot about her terrible acid reflux.
So what now? I had a huge pot of red beans and rice that I didn’t want all that Cajun goodness to go to waste. Well, I suffered through and consumed red beans and rice for every meal for the next few days until it was gone. Let me tell you, rehydrated red beans are probably the gassiest. At first, I thought all the farting was hilarious! But after a full day of constant farts every 5 to 10 minutes and gut-wrenching gas that felt like someone was using an air compressor to inflate my large intestine, my pucker muscle was fatigued. I just wanted it to stop and so did my wife.
I was starting to leave permanent odors on my office chair from trying to hold them in. I didn’t want to kill any office plants or cause workman’s comp cases for my co-workers. Some lessons you learn the hard way.
But don’t be surprised if a woman yells at you for being a sexist. “What? A woman can’t open a door herself?” I saw a young man open the door for his girlfriend as she was driving his truck. Maybe it was her truck. Regardless it was an ugly truck. I’m confused…
When I do open doors for people it’s not only for women. I do it out of curiosity. Well, not really, doors are heavy, I do it because you look weak. My favorite is when you open a door for someone and they continue to ignore the fact that you did something nice for them. They either act like you are supposed to or they don’t bother looking up from their digital distraction. If they don’t look up it’s probably a good idea to shut the door so they can walk into it.
Everyone loves to brag. Whether it’s about your accomplishments or your children’s it’s all about getting a leg up on the competition. However, some people don’t even know when you are competing with them. Here’s a good way to put this to the test.
Pick out one of your friends on Facebook. Next, copy and paste one of their posts, but change out the proper nouns. Try to take similar photos, and share the same status messages from other websites. However, the twist is this, you have to make your status messages better than theirs. See if they notice after a few weeks of this.
You can see how many times you almost died
You will have greater awareness and response time for all those other texters who are swerving over the yellow line. Almost everywhere I drive I have constant panic attacks because I see oncoming traffic jerk the wheel at the last minute. As I pass someone on the interstate you can see them looking down while weaving in and out of lanes. It’s a truly terrifying time to be a driver.
You have more time to eat
If you are not holding your phone, you can hold a burger or burrito. If you are a two-hand texter and drive with your knees you can eat your salad or chicken tenders with dippin’ sauces. Bonus if you have lane keep assist on your vehicle. No need for knees and two hands off the wheel freeing you up to eat monster burgers from Hardee’s
You won’t die
Probably the best benefit is you will keep living your life and not be dead. There are plenty of other things that can go wrong while driving. Do not add to the deadly mix of your terrible driving skills plus distracting technology.
Helpful tip, if you are traveling and notice someone viewing their smart device, give the horn a toot and get their attention.
Maybe it’s part of the coastal state DMV’s big plan to remove cars from the road. Why would I want to buy a car when I can purchase a moped, not need a license, and never pay a cent of tax? This day was incredibly joyous with this champion in front of me.
I made the move to pass at my first opportunity. The dude here swerves in front of me and begins zig-zagging like a clown on a tricycle hopped up on PCP. I then revert back to my original lane and he repeats this insanity with more lane swaying. Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to pass HIM. He proceeds to signal left, get off his fart can, and prepare fisticuffs. I start slowing down when my lovely bride screams a reminder about my kids and herself. I apparently have more to lose than a guy more than likely headed back to his trailer after my tax dollars paid for a large alcoholic beverage.
I can understand that you need to get places. However, don’t put others’ lives at risk by not allowing others to legally pass if your method of transportation is not capable of exceeding 35mph on a 55mph road.