Yup, I am in my new favorite White Spot in Richmond Center.
My old favorite was the one at 3 Road and Ackroyd, but that is like four whole blocks from here. What am I, a Sherpa?
My original motive for going out today was to renew my bus pass. But I forgot the form necessary to do so.
Ugh, some current female singer has done a brutal and terrible cover of Sunglasses At Night by Corey Hart. Just when I think I have no more childhood left to rape…
Anyway, I realized I had forgotten the form before we had left the parking structure, and I totally could have gone back up to the apartment and grabbed it.
But I didn’t. And now I wish I had. I am trying to have less “fuck it” and more “do it” in my life, and not going up was definitely a “fuck it” kind of thing.
But the day is not a loss. I did get the needle tips for my insulin injector that were my other reason for going out today. And even though it involved walking a whole block that I did not have to, I came here to White Spot to treat myself to a meal.
And I am proud of that. The easiest thing, the most “fuck it” thing, the most “like the old me” thing, would have been to get the tips and go straight home, and be depressed about the whole thing.
But the path of least resistance often sucks. Instead of being depressed, I will now be proud that I made the better choice.
weird thing at the pharmacy : when I got there, the pharmacist was taking pictures with a teenaged couple. From their conversation, I deduced that the female half of the couple was the pharmacist’s niece or daughter, but that is it.
So I am dying to know WTF is up wid dat. But obviously, my Canadian reserve prevented me from even thinking of asking.
That would be rude!
Oh, and get this : they were taking actual Polaroids. Not an Instagram filter, straight up actual “shake it like a Polaroid picture” Polaroids. Hadn’t seen those in years. Weeeeird.
Oh,and there is a Real Customer Quote in the menu that says something like ” I love how they welcome me here and make me feel like family even with my active toddler. I can clean up the messes, but I like not feeling embarrassed. ”
Emphasis mine, of course.
Ot, as I interpret it, “we the owners and operators of the White Spot family of restaurants welcome the money of parents of horrible brats. After all, we aren’t the ones who will have to deal with the hellspawn your lack of parenting has created. ”
I bet the very nice waitresses they have here would beg to differ.
And you know what? If your out of control pint sized hooligan is making life miserable for both the staff and your fellow diners, you SHOULD feel embarrassed. That is the morally and socially correct response, and it sickens me to see a for profit entity suggest otherwise just to line their own pockets.
God damn, I am cranky lately. I might be undergoing my metamorphosis into a curmudgeon like, 20 years too early.
Oh well. If you play your cards right, you can be the lovable and occasionally hilarious kind of grump.
Think Lou Grant. Or, forgive me, Andy Rooney.
Enough fir now. See you back at Fanhattan.
Back home now. Was pleasant to be out in the winter air. Of course, for here, that air is at 8 degrees Celsius. So not exactly an arctic chill. But still, pleasantly cold for a chronically overheating fat dude.
Saw a “you are here” poster on a bus stop on the way to White Spot, and realizes that I always get a surge of happiness and warmth when I see one of those. As a chronically confused and easily disoriented person (just like my mother), just seeing the words “you are here” is like a beacon of blessed clarity in a sea of confusion.
Actually knowing where you are is good too.
There was this Cracked article recently that I wanted to comment upon.
Ignoring the article title, the basic gist is that people think it is fine to mock skinny people, the Irish, and Italians, and feel fine about culturally appropriating everything from the Hindu culture of India.
We will take the India issue first. There is nothing wrong with taking fashion inspiration from another culture. India has some really appealing ladies’ clothes, full of color and grace and style.
But leave the bindi alone! That’s a religious symbol, not a fasion accessory. Go nuts with all the saris, dangly bangles, and makeup you want. But leave the bindi out of it!
As for the other three, the reason we feel okay in indulging in harmful stereotyping about them is that they are all minorities which are socially accepted. Italians and the Irish have “made it”. Sure, they are technically minorities, but they have fully integrated into society and therefore they are not a minority which is discriminated against.
So jokes about drunken brawling Irishmen and dopey mob-connected Italians do not feel like they are “kicking someone when they are down” and therefore do not trigger the same outrage in us.
As for skinny people, they are widely seen as to be envied and emulated. This makes them socially superior to others, and the hardest people to empathize with are always our social superiors.
Instead, people feel free to envy, despise, and spew venomous hate at those above them. After all, those people already “have it all” and deserve no pity, right?
But everyone deserves the same compassion and sympathy regardless of social status. That means that both Bill Gates and the hobo who pukes in your dumpster equally deserve our care and understanding.
That is why I would let the richest man in the world use my soup kitchen and homeless shelters. The absolute best thing we can do for the rich and powerful is treat them as equal to everyone else. That is the exact message they need to hear. It both welcomes them back into the arms of humanity and reconnects them with the people their social status has isolated them from.
Attacking them, on the other hand, just makes them retreat further from the common man.
Well, that’s my words. I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.