Posted by You Sir on May 11, 2010 in Here's to you Sir! | 0 comments
I hate unnecessary loudness. Hate it. It’s why I don’t go to Benihana. The dude makes more noise with his knives than he needs to and has those stupid wooden things that he taps on the grill just so everyone in the restaurant knows he’s putting salt and pepper on stuff. I hate it. And, honestly, I like to get all my food at one time instead of two shrimp, then rice, then veggies, then finally the entree. But, I digress….
I hate unnecessary loudness. I was at Leon’s Full Service in Decatur this past Saturday night celebrating with two of my friends who recently finished grad school. There was a weird little old man milling around the bar area. He looked familiar. I feel like I’ve seen him around Decatur or, at the least, been annoyed by him somewhere else in the past. Just to make things easier I will, for the sake of the story, call him Kevin. I watched Kevin carry one single french fry through the crowd and give it to a lady at the bar. Kevin...
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Posted by You Sir on May 11, 2010 in Here's to you Sir! | 0 comments
Just because I’m the one that writes this blog doesn’t mean I’m immune to calling out my own douchebaggery. This is something I have yet to do, but gosh, does it take all the will power I have to not do this on an almost daily basis.
I live near East Lake Golf Course. It’s the home of the PGA Tour Championship every fall. It’s a super exclusive golf course that people like the CEO of Coca-Cola belong to. All this to say, it’s real nice. If you’re playing there, you either know “somebody” or you are “somebody.” I’m constantly driving past these “somebodies” while they’re playing golf. Yesterday, as I’m driving past what I think is the first tee, which sits about 20 yards from Alston Drive, I see a golfer about to tee off. The timing of this is perfect, as I’m turning onto Alston Drive and my truck is almost even with him as he brings his driver back on his backswing. It was all I could do to not lay on my horn at the very moment he...
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Posted by You Sir on May 11, 2010 in Here's to you Sir! | 0 comments
A few weeks ago I had the immense pleasure of attending The Masters golf tournament. I was there on Saturday. It was a gorgeous day. Upper 70′s, sunny, nice breeze. It’s the third time I’ve been as the lucky recipient of my friend Walter’s extra ticket.
If you know me, you know I’m no golfer. I don’t pretend to be. I barely own a polo shirt. The first year I went I felt like I needed to “look the part” by wearing the preppyist outfit I could. I wasn’t comfortable, and quickly realized that no one really cares what you’re wearing. I mean, sure, it’s super fratty. There’s some seersucker here and there, lots of polo shirts and overall golf attire. But really, you’re outside in the sun for about 12 straight hours watching golf, drinking, and eating egg salad sandwiches. (The combination of those last two requires you to at least crack your windows on the long drive home, if you know what I mean.) For the most part, it’s no fashion...
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Posted by You Sir on May 11, 2010 in Here's to you Sir! | 0 comments
As I was eating lunch in my neighborhood fast food Chinese restaurant, I watch one of the most mind-boggling string of events I’ve seen in a long time.
Dear Garbage Guy,
We’re at a self serve restaurant. There is no wait staff. This is obvious from the fact that you had to carry your own tray full of food from the cash register to the table. That fact alone should have established your behavior for the rest of the dining experience, but apparently not in your case. When you were done with your meal, you got up, picked up your tray full of garbage, and walked with it all the way to the trash can by the door. You were doing good so far, but at this point, you absolutely blew my mind. You looked down at the trash can, saw the stack of empty trays sitting on top, and somehow decided it was no longer your responsibility to complete the process of disposing of your garbage. Maybe you were tired, and just making it to the door was exhausting. But there you were,...
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