- The Fetish and the Foe - Monday, October 18, 2004 Section 1: Autos I love cars. My father didn’t have any boys, so thanks to you, Dad, for passing on your love of all things automotive to me and my younger sister. Hot rods, vintage, custom-built, tricked out, souped up, you name it – I dig it. I find amusing the stories that my dad tells me, and he has plenty since managing car stereo/accessory dealerships for the better part of 20 years. One thing my dad always clues me in on which are the best cars to purchase, and which are the best cars to use as your next beach bonfire bin. Story 1: “So, my co-worker comes in from doing an install. ‘What car do we have in there?’ I ask. ‘A Black 2003 Daewoo’ he says with a slight sarcasm. Daewoo, uh? My co-worker goes through the diagnostics and attempts to check the alarm sensor by smacking the top of the car. Now, no objects are used in the ‘smacking’, just a good hand pop will do to see if the alarm is properly working. He smacks the hood. A look of horror falls on his face. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask. ‘Uh, Joe – I just put a dent in the hood.’” A dent?!? The moral of this torrid tale: Someone tells you to buy a Daewoo, poke them in the eye. As the now infamous movie “Taxi” has pointed out, Daewoo’s are at the bottom of the car food chain and apparently made with “Fisher Price” durability and some type of 12-gauge metal. Do you know how thick 12-gauge metal is? We’re talking a step above tin foil, here. I mean, getting from point A to B doesn’t have to cost you a small fortune, but do you really think it’s worth it to drive around in a Pepsi can? Unless you’re hip to the idea of a car that you can recycle on your way home from work, I think you’re bit smarter than that. Section 2: Starbucks Now, there's nothing more fulfilling than ordering at Starbucks; a tad to the effect of announcing your personality in a cup to the less than caring partons nearby. They're cranky, they want their coffee. However, as much as I enjoy learning what it is that I do enjoy ordering, writing down the 'coffee lingo' in sequence and reciting it to myself before I come to the counter, I've noticed that my list of beverage adjectives is - well - getting longer. Frankly, I have a short term memory that is equal to a large field rodent, so I'm starting to become concerned about how much of a retard I sound like now. My nerves break down, my pretencious Italian is slacking, and I find myself approaching the counter saying, "I'll have a mocha-grande-venti-peppermint-non-fat-shot. And make that unleaded" WTF? For the LOVE of Colombia, I just had this s--- down a second ago! What the hell did I just order? Am I losing my edge? I almost want to liberate my coffee-loving soul and blurt out, "I'll take a BIG ASS cup of caffeine!" With all the other million things I have to list, sort, and file in my daily life, trying to get a cup of coffee should be the easy part of the day. Man, it must be Monday.

posted by April @ 6:27 PM 0 Comments: Post a Comment << Home