Lately, The Man has really been getting me down, or at least The Man as represented by large national companies. I love to support local businesses, but let's be real, the fries at McDonald's are pretty bomb and sometimes, there's just no substituting them when you're starved at 1 a.m. and nothing else is open.
But McDonald's isn't really pissing me off actively right now. I actually find the discontinuation of the dollar menu between the hours of midnight and 2 a.m. at my local McD's more amusing than irritating -- if you ever need a good laugh, I highly recommend watching drunk people try to order dollar fries and shakes and be told over and over again that they have to buy an entire extra value meal. This goes on every night at the McD's at the corner of Commonwealth and Harvard Avenue in Allston, MA. Comedy gold.
No, today my ire is aimed at Dunkin' Donuts, Panera, and Best Buy. Let's start with the most minor offender: Dunkin's. Recently, they stopped offering an egg white option for their breakfast sandwiches. I guess high cholesterol and obesity are back in vogue. There is still the egg white flatbread, but it's disgusting -- dry, with alleged turkey sausage and flecks of green and red that I suppose are meant to resemble peppers. Not that the regular breakfast sandwiches were any culinary masterpiece, but at least you could get them on an English muffin, which is approximately 1,000 times tastier than the mealy flatbread monstrosity.
There was also some deception that transpired at the Boylston/Tremont location -- I came in one day and was told they were "out" of the egg whites that I had gotten in the habit of ordering on an English muffin with cheese. I was informed that they just ran out but would have them again soon. LIES. Two days later, the same thing happened, but I was again reassured that it was a temporary outage, no cause for alarm. About a week after that, they finally dropped the ruse and broke the news to me that egg whites were a thing of the past.
Dunkin' Donuts, you are dead to me.
Next offender: Panera. I'm actually writing this from a Panera right now, fueled by their subpar coffee and injustice. Let me say that it pains me to muckrake a corporation that began as a local chain in my hometown of St. Louis. Once upon a time, Panera was St. Louis Bread Company, a great little cafe with delicious pastries. From the ages of 8-18, I ate countless tuna-salad-on- honey-wheat sandwiches. As Panera, the food is still pretty solid. I particularly enjoy the Fuji apple chicken salad, despite the fact that the dressing is the exact color and consistency of semen.
The location in Brookline advertises free wifi, so today I came for lunch and brought my laptop. When I logged on to the network at 12:45, I saw a disclaimer that between the peak hours of 11:30-1:30, I could only be online for 30 minutes. I was slightly annoyed that this policy was not made clear on the numerous "free high speed wireless internet!" signs, but whatever, I thought, I'll have to be disconnected for like 15 minutes, from 1:15-1:30 and then I can get back on.
As expected, I got bumped off at 1:15. I waited till 1:30....couldn't get back on. 1:40....still nothing. I asked an employee (Charissa) and she told me the peak hours are actually from 11-2. I told her this is not what it says on the "log in" home page. She also said that sometimes it's limited to 30 minutes even not during peak hours because they have a problem with students camping out for hours and occupying tables. By the way she snarkily informed me of this, I could tell she thought I fell into this category. I told her I have been here less than an hour, bought and ate lunch here and was in the middle of writing an important e-mail when I was kicked off (this was true). She offered me a complimentary cookie. I told Charissa to go fuck herself and get a real name.
Ok, the last part isn't true. But I did turn down the cookie. I have some principles. The good news is that the town of Brookline has a cheap wifi service you can sign up for, so I am now taking up a large booth to blog about this. Suck it, Panera.
Finally, the corporation most deserving of my hatred -- Best Buy. Last year, my dad bought me an Insignia flatscreen HD TV with a built-in DVD player. In March, a little over a year after acquiring this TV, the DVD player stopped working. I took it in to Best Buy since it was still under warranty. It took them 2 weeks, but they repaired the DVD player. I brought the TV home and about a week later, the DVD player stopped working AGAIN. I called Best Buy and asked if I could get a new TV since this one was obviously a piece of garbage. They told me that per my warranty, they won't replace the TV until it's been sent out for service FOUR TIMES. It has to break FOUR TIMES before they replace it, and remember, each time it goes out for service, it takes 2 weeks to fix. Unacceptable.
My dad, who loves lost causes and in his semi-retirement writes a lot of angry letters, was pretty pissed that this policy was buried in the fine print of the extended warranty agreement he signed. He chewed out a Best Buy supervisor named Troy, based in Colorado. I guess it brings me a little pleasure to think about Troy (employee ID #153162) in Colorado getting yelled at by a 65-year-old man in St. Louis who's furious that his daughter's DVD player in Boston is broken. My dad threatened Troy that he would "post a blog on the internet" (I didn't have the heart to tell him that statement's redundant) and bring Best Buy to its knees, defaming Troy and all the Troys in the Best Buy corporate machine who rip off the little people.
Et tu, Troy?
Then Dad ordered me an external DVD player. From Walmart. We'll see how this plays out.
According to the hit Broadway show Avenue Q, the internet is for porn. And while I wouldn't disagree that it promotes the proliferation of that industry, I do think it serves many other purposes as well. Without Facebook, I would not be in touch with the elementary school friend who, after we reconnected, asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding (or, for that matter, all the boys in middle school who didn't ask me to slow dance because I was a late bloomer). Without MySpace, Tila Tequila would not have a career that extended beyond a stripper pole.
Some claim the Web brings us together; others insist it has driven people farther apart by digitizing relationships (and I'll admit, my phone demeanor has suffered). One recent online development, however, strikes me as a throwback to the "old internet" I grew up with while also managing to be insidiously innovative.
I speak, of course, of the phenomenon of Chat Roulette.
If you've over 25, chances are you haven't heard of this site; it's pretty new and all the rage among the young Web-savvy kids. The concept is simple: talk to totally random strangers, selected randomly. But here's the really creepy part: with webcam technology, you can SEE and HEAR the creepy strangers. At any given time, there are thousands of people on the site and when you log on, you suddenly find yourself face-to-face with one of them. And if you don't like what you see, you can simply click "next" and talk to someone else.
As my brother pointed out, the sheer randomness of Chat Roulette is reminiscent of the 90s chat rooms I used to frequent when I was an AOL user. My family had an account and I had my own screen name: Liminal15 (precocious, I know). And sometimes, because I was a curious and horny teenager, I would chat, shall we say flirtatiously, with people I didn't know.
Chat Roulette takes this to the next level -- and having visited the site a few times (trust me, it's better to experience it with friends as opposed to solo), I can say that about 50% of the time, I found myself not so much face-to-face with a stranger, but face-to-penis. The truth is, Chat Roulette is saturated with guys who just want to jerk off on camera for the exhibitionist thrill. They don't really want to talk. The only communication I received was rarely in the form of complete sentences; one guy said "titties?" and another asked me to flash him after waving a ten-dollar bill at the camera, as if I could absorb the money via osmosis. I still can't decide if this gesture was tacky (I'm only worth $10?) or polite (it's the thought that counts?)
It's a strange world we live in, folks. And Chat Roulette just made it a little....ickier. Except this guy, he's awesome:
Another weird/scary internet trend in the news: Human-flesh Search Engines in China. Apparently, people gather together online and target those in their communities that they don't like and carry out a kind of mob bullying. This sometimes results in the victims losing their jobs and having to relocate. I guess if I had to pick between being harassed online by a faceless mob or being inundated with images of masturbating oddballs, I choose the latter?
Which brings this post pretty much full circle: the internet is for porn (unless you are unpopular and live in China)
hey (hā) interj. Used to attract attention or to express surprise, appreciation, wonder, or pleasure.
A recent study* revealed that nearly 87% of Americans with text-message capabilities have at some point received the one-word message "hey" from a friend, family member, or more likely, a potential or existing sexual partner. Statistical research indicates that the ubiquitous "hey" text is becoming increasingly popular on college campuses and among the under-35 demographic. But just what does the "hey" text message imply or convey? When you type those three letters on your cellular phone's keypad or touch screen and hit send, are you saying what you think you are saying?
T.J., a sophomore at Boston University, explained his usage of the "hey" text: "I text a girl 'hey' to let her know I'm feelin' her." And if she responds? "I might follow up with something like, 'what r u doing tonite?'" T.J. went on the explain that he finds texting "hey" is a great way to make "first contact" with a girl.
Hunter College freshman Mike agreed--"'Hey' is nice and neutral," he said. "Same goes for 'yo.'"
Females, however, seemed to disagree about the effectiveness of the one-word text. "Oh my God, I hate getting texted 'hey,' it's so irritating," said Amy, a freshman at Tulane. "I accidentally gave out my number to this weirdo in my I[nternational] R[elations] class who said he was starting a study group. Now he texts me 'hey' like twice a week."
Leah, who just started her junior year at Cornell, felt similarly. She described the "hey" text as "immature and vague" and said she'd prefer interested parties to actually call her to ask her out.
Etymologically, "hey" dates back to the early 13th-century, and is derived either from the Roman eho, or the Greek word, eia. The only modern-day language other than English to use a similar expression is German (hei). In American culture, "hey" is regularly used as a replacement for the more formal-sounding greeting, "hello." "Hey" is a self-contained thought, one that invites a response playfully without demanding it. In the medium of text-messaging, it is often interpreted flirtatiously, as a signifier of romantic interest.
At least, that is what Becca, a sophomore at Sarah Lawrence, is hoping. "I met this awesome guy last night at a Take Back the Night organizational meeting and I think he might want to go out," she explained. "If he texts me 'hey' in the next few days, I'll know he means business."
*There was no study conducted and all of the quotations/names included here are completely fictional. Any similarity to actual undergraduates is entirely unintentional.
Et tu, Troy?
