New blog is now: http://www.facerocker.com
Peace
Gordon probably worked his shift as night manager at the Butte KFC/A&W Combo Restaurant in Butte for as long as any of the other night employees could remember. As far as they were concerned, he was as permanent as the mute Colonel Sanders statue sitting on a park bench in the corner of the restaurant, one arm hung over the back of the bench inviting wayward fast food connoisseurs to take a seat and a photo to prove their conquest of this particular hybridized fast food chain. Like the statue of Sanders, Gordon had been there since before they started working, and he would be there long after they had left. And like that fixture, no visitors have ever pulled out their cameras to pose with either of them.
Logan and I walked into this restaurant at nine o’clock. According to their dinky sign, they were already closed, but the door was unlocked. Gordon stood behind the counter, blue employee shirt bulging from his man tits and gut, wispy moustache curled into a lecherous smirk. He was staring at Heather’s chest as she stood trying her best to avoid his gaze. She had eyes too wide apart, but to Gordon, she was the primest piece of ass he had seen all week.
“You… want chili cheese on those fries?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No thanks,” she said. Her voice was shrill.
“They won’t cost ya nothing,” he leered. She didn’t know it, but Gordon, king of the domain of fried chicken and root beer floats was offering her his kingdom. He had not charm, nor looks, nor physique, but he had a whole vat of chili and cheese he was willing to look the other way for.
I was up at the counter but he was looking at her still. I started to order, but was interrupted. “What’s your major?” he asked.
“Biology.” She kept her responses curt. He conducted a mammogram with his eyes.
Another employee plopped the bag of food she had been waiting for. She grabbed it and turned to leave.
“Come back and visit us, real soon,” he said. “Don’t get too mad at us or nothing.” She had already gone.
Next time, just take my goddamned order, Gordon.
According to the Creation Museum, dinosaurs were:
- All herbivores before Adam ate the forbidden fruit
- In the Garden of Eden
- All aboard Noah’s ark
- Hitched intercontinental rides on floating sea logs during the Ice Age
- Mistaken as dragons by cultures around the world
YEAAAAAAAAAH
What the hell is the problem with hotels and free internet.
Wireless internet in a hotel should be like having a shitty pool out back, or grainy HBO, or an ice machine that works half the time – the kind of thing that everyone has and it’s not even a big deal anymore. In fact, it shouldn’t even need to be mentioned on the roadside sign, it should just sort of be assumed that whatever dumpy motel or hotel you’re pulling into for the night has it, the same way when I walk in to the room, I expect the plastic #2 seat on the toilet so you can take a dump without teabagging the poo water.
Hell, a lot of REST STOPS seem to have wireless internet now too so you can pull over, buy some chips out of a rusty vending machine, and look up your goat porn all in one go. Plus, they offer this service for FREE.
That’s the big thing that gets me – it’s freaking FREE. Entire cities are gearing up to provide free internet citywide. Forward thinking airports around the world offer it for free. Even Starbucks has dumped their absolutely retarded deal with T-Mobile and is rolling out free internet access. However, with hotels, it’s totally hit or miss, and most annoyingly, the nicer the hotel, the more likely you’re going to have to pay ten bucks to be able to use their wireless internet for a 24-hour period.
This is a graph I threw together illustrating my point:
See, when you’re in the OK hotels, like Best Westerns or Holiday Inn Expresses, you’re riding fine. They do things right, they give you free internet. But then, you hit a threshhold for more expensive “nicer” hotels, and all of a sudden they are justified in charging you up the ass for temporary internet usage. I call this “being in Douchevalley” because dammit you’re already paying like twice as much for the room and really other than a little less crusty starch in the sheets and thicker towels, you’re not getting twice the room quantifiably, and on top of that, now it’s costing you another ten bucks a day just to use the internet.
I say you might as well go huge and get a room at the hotel with complimentary masseuse and aromatherapy soaps and candles included with your room.
I brought up the term “Broses,” then Logan said “Let my party go.”
