bet even if I opened a restaurant that made the best hotcakes the world has ever tasted, they still wouldn’t “sell like hotcakes.” They’d probably sell more like pancakes, which, if all the Village Inn closings over the last few years have taught us anything, it’s that pancakes don’t sell all that well. Maybe we could update the expression to something more accurate, like “selling like marijuana edibles.” Of course, while that may have been true in 2014 when recreational dispensaries first opened, a lot of pot shops have closed in recent years due to falling demand — mainly because neighboring states started legalizing cannabis. I suppose if the housing shortage is any indication, we could probably say, “selling like houses.” But that’s kind of depressing to think about, since many of us will never be homeowners. Plus, I can’t really open a restaurant or store that sells houses — unless I were Sears, Roebuck & Co. back in the early 20th century, which I am not. I guess it’s back to the drawing board as far as opening a profitable shop is concerned. Back In My 20s, I Would Never Drink And Drive, But I Was Sure Grateful For My Friends Who Did I had a strong policy against driving drunk when I was younger, but I was always glad when I had a friend who simply didn’t give a shit. Quite often after the bar would close, one of my drinking chums would ask, “Can I get a ride home?” And I would say, “No, I’m ditching my car. I’ll pick it up tomorrow, since I’ve had too much to drink tonight.” And they would respond, “Would you mind if I drove?” And I would say, “Nope. Let’s go.” And so we went. Of course, I don’t do this anymore. Now that I’ve matured, I just drunkenly take one of those scooters home. Sometimes When Your Life Is Falling Apart, And You Work In The Service Industry, A Customer Will Come To You With The Pettiest Problem You’ve Ever Heard Of, And You Have No Words To Describe The Depths Of Your Disbelief, Anger, Or Pity “I had to wait almost a minute for service,” they’ll tell you in the tone of the whiners. And you’ll look at them and think, Who could possibly give a shit about that? A minute? Do you not realize that my personal life is turning to shit? That I may never find love again? That there is no contentment in this shitty job and I’m just doing it to pay my bills on time? And for the love of fuck, I’m not even going to mention that the very environment that sustains us is dangling by a thread, and there’s no bright future for any of us. And you want to talk to me about having to wait 60 seconds? That must have been the worst fucking thing that has ever happened in your shitty, pathetic little life. But in the interest of self-preservation, you just say, “Would you like to speak with a manager?” And of course you hope they say yes, since you don’t want to deal with them, because the amount of contempt you’ve allowed to build in your head would get you fired in an instant if it were vocalized. [Deep breath.] “No, a manager isn’t necessary? Okay then, have a nice day.” Thomas Wolfe Was Right When He Said, “You Can’t Go Home Again.” I Tried To Go To My Childhood Home, And There Were Other People Living There And when they saw me trying to get inside, they said, “You can’t come in here!” And I said wistfully, “Isn’t that the truth?” 9
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