I don't normally think of New Orleans as country, but after today, I may be forced to reevaluate my position. I was driving home today, taking a shortcut through the bad neighborhood that borders mine, when I saw this big animal in the street. I couldn't really figure out what it was, and at first I thought it was a cat, but I soon realized it was a bird, a really big bird. Pigeons certainly don't get that big, so I slowed down to take a look. What was in the road? A rooster. A big, colorful rooster, pecking at some random food that had been thrown into the street. Who has to swerve around a rooster in New Orleans? It's weird, right? I mean, I saw a lot of roosters in Hawaii, where they're strangely abundant, and my hometown is basically on the border of Amish country, so no surprise there, but in New Orleans? And not just New Orleans, but ghetto New Orleans. Pink Pirate has suggested cockfighting as the cause for my run-in with the rooster. I'm hoping that's not the case, because I find them sort of cute. Either way, this city just keeps surprising me.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
Dear Lady in Front of Me at the Grocery Store,
Holy Mother of God, why are you writing a check for your groceries? More to the point, why are you not only writing a check, but taking 10 minutes to do so? Your signature needn't be in perfect calligraphic form. If you're worried that maybe the bank won't recognize your writing, trust me when I say that they'll take away your money, messy signature or not. In the meantime, you're holding the rest of us up, and I've been fidgeting and sort of rolling my eyes for a while now, in the hopes that it will induce you to hurry up. See, I don't know if you've noticed, but we're in the express lane, where people come to check out when they aren't buying that much or are, presumably, in a hurry. Look, it even says "Speedy Checkout" right there on the sign above the register. So, seriously, move your ass, because although I have nowhere important to be, I'd rather not stand in this line forever. And next time, remember your debit card. You know, that convenient little piece of plastic that is much faster than your antiquated checkbook? Although I don't like necessarily like Visa's recent commercials, or agree that the card is faster than cash, it's certainly faster than a checkbook, and it would really make me happy if you'd use it.
The Impatient Girl Standing Behind You
Posted by Liza Jane at 3:37 PM