Frustration

Look: I don't go out of my way to create monkey business. 

(Well ... that's not entirely true. I'll do so in the spirit of amusement. And often. More exactingly I'll do it in the spirit of self-amusement if it gives me a personal chuckle. But I like to share my experiences as you well know. The more the merrier, after all!)

But monkey business in and of itself is rampant everywhere. It's all over the place, often a daily occurrence. You can find it at home, at work, on the street, on the radio, in the news, at that fast food joint you frequent.

It's that last item where monkey business is constantly looming I've chosen to discuss today. Specifically at the largest quick-service chicken restaurant chain in the United States, Chick-fil-A. And let me tell you something ... there's a lot of it going on at these restaurants, I figure. I know there is at the one I walk into on occasion in bustling Folsom, CA.

Now, I can't honestly state I've ever said or thought to myself "Self? You know what I'm craving today? A Chick-fil-A chicken sandwich." And there's a reason I haven't ever thought that. Because I'm simply not thrilled with the restaurant. Sure ... their chicken sandwiches and other fare are fine if you like that sort of thing, but their foodstuffs aren't must haves for me. The place is just okay, nothing more. It's others I'm with who suggest we head to a Chick-fil-A when we're out and about and we're looking for a quick meal on the go. It's never me making that suggestion. I'll rarely counter the decision to eat there but, deep down, I'll wish there was an alternative choice offered. (But I'm realistic. It can't always be about "me." I'm giving and fair and I know the importance of "going along for the ride" when the need arises.)

But over the course of the last handful of times I've been to a Chick-fil-A (two of which I've documented here and here) I've come to the conclusion the staff of the place is on a mission to drive me over the edge. Case in point ...

My usual was ordered: A spicy chicken deluxe sandwich.

Now ... for illustrative purposes, I've provided an actual screen shot of the item for your perusal, taken directly from Chick-fil-A's website. I want you to take a gander at it for a moment and read its description (click on the image to enlarge):

Simple question: Can you tell me what's on the sandwich? I bet you can. But just in case you don't read English (in which case I don't know what you're doing on this blog other than looking at various color schemes and pretty pictures) let me humor you - the sandwich, in short, consist of a boneless breast of chicken with dill pickle chips, lettuce, tomato and pepper jack cheese.

So riddle me this: Why in the world would the following conversation take place?

Chick-fil-A Dude Behind The Register: "And you sir? What can I get you?"

Me: "I would like the spicy chicken deluxe sandwich, please."

Chick-fil-A Dude: "Would you like American, Swiss or Pepper Jack cheese on that?"

Me, confused: "The pepper jack ..." 

Chick-fil-A Dude: "And it comes with lettuce, tomato and pickles. Is that all right?"

Me, holding back several sarcastic comments: "That will be fine, thank you ..."

Why? WHY???

Why, when I order anything at a Chick-fil-A, am I continuously bombarded with questions about my selection that make no sense whatsoever? The description of the item is as plain as day, right there in front of me. I see what the sandwich is, I see what's on it. Why do the employees of Chick-fil-A feel the need to talk me into something different? Are they bored? Do they get incentives or some sort by doing so?

If I wanted a different kind of cheese on my selection I would have asked if it was possible to make a substitution. If I had an aversion to pickled cucumbers, I would have requested they be stricken from my sandwich. If I preferred eating my choice sans lettuce, I would say so ... right? If I wanted an opt-out on commonly sliced fruit I would make that information known forthwith.


I mean, let's take it a step further: Why offer the bun at all? Why not ask if I'd prefer the item without the bread it goes between? Maybe I prefer my tomato on the bottom of the sandwich, nestled underneath the chicken breast instead of atop it. Wouldn't it be helpful if they suggested all the individual pieces to the item be handed to me unassembled so I could put the thing together to my liking? We could go on like this for hours ...

For criminy's sake ... I CAN SEE WHAT'S ON MY PREFERENCE! JUST RING UP MY PICK AS IS, PLAIN AND SIMPLE! Cripes and cripes ... how difficult can it be ... ??!??!?

And the answer to that question is: Pretty damned difficult, as it turns out ... 

Silly Monkey

My friend Tony Millionaire.

The guy cracks me up.

(Hey, you! Click the image - you'll see it betterer!)

................... Ruprecht ( STOP )

Monkey Business

Fear And Parenting In Las Vegas asked me questions. In accordance with Maria's Got Questions monkey business fnp committed to, I'm doing same.

Ready? Set? Go ...

okely dokely. Here are your five questions:

1. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

It was my way of getting in touch with the little latent creatures chock-full of creative tendencies lying within at the pit of my mind, begging to be released.

They’ve since not only helped to free themselves from stagnation, but have provided entertainment, valuable information and assistance to others as well. Go figger.


2. Now that you've made your affinity for geek-loving girls well known, what geek-loving girl fills your fantasies?

Affinity? For geek-loving girls?!?

I beg your pardon. No such affinity – nor fantasy - exists. I believe you to be exaggerating a tad, fnp.

You speak, of course, to the recent post I logged concerning Ms. Pink Verbiage Shirt.

*yeesh* A guy can’t even make a girl’s day by proffering a pleasant comment without it being lavishly misconstrued …..

3. Given your recent papparazzi photography at the post office, tell us about your most notorious celebrity sighting/encounter?

Notorious. Notorious. Notorious. Well … I’ll give it a go.

This one is notorious in the sense it was performed whilst in the midst of hundreds of people. Said celebrity was monumentally embarrassed because of my antics:

There he was.

Sam J. Jones.

Actor and star of Flash Gordon.

The film had been released in 1980 complete with a bevy of spiffy actors and actresses, a soundtrack by none other than Queen and (added bonus!) it was released on my birthday!

Sam Jones. Readying his booth for autograph seekers the world over.

Interestingly, I thought, was the fact his Flash Gordon poster in the background was falling down behind him. He had arisen to fix it his ownself. What a photographic opportunity, I thought!

As I tried to get a shot off, a figure kept looming into my view – a woman, I noted - ruining my fleeting opportunity to snap Sammy. I didn’t want to take my eye from the viewfinder lest the moment escape, but the chick kept getting in my line of sight.

I snarked at my buddy who was observing all and getting a kick out of the fact I would probably miss the shot I wanted. “Who the hell is in my way?!?” I grumbled. “Tell her to move off to the side so I can get this shot!” I commanded of him.

“But, but, but ….” he stammered, “I can’t! You know who it is?”

“I don’t give a crap!” I yelled. “Tell her to move! Now!”

I could tell by his response he was starry-eyed about whoever it was, curtailing his effort to fulfill my wish: “But ….. it’s Erin Gray from Buck Rogers! I can’t tell her to do that!”

I know an opportunity when I see one. I dropped my camera, losing my sight and losing my shot, and yelled as loud as I could:

“Hey! Erin! Get the hell outta the way! Can’t you see I’m trying to get a shot of Flash Gordon here … ?!?”

Everybody and his brother within a hundred feet turned to look at not only me but who I was yelling at. Completely embarrassed, Erin slunk away, red-faced, tail tucked ‘tween legs.

I was laughing so hard, I almost didn’t get my picture of Sammy.



Being a Buck Rogers fan myself (not to mention an admirer of Erin Gray), I immediately went up to her, apologized and asked if she would forgive me my outburst. She was timid and wary of me, but loosened up when I asked if I could get a picture of the two of us together. We chatted and laughed for a good twenty minutes, talking acting and opportunities.

Good times.



4. Now that the inauguration is nearly upon us, have you had any more interesting dreams about Barrack Obama or other poliitcos?

No. I have not.

However, back to that particular dream about President-Elect Obama: It just might be a sign. Stay tuned …..

5. Since Soren's too much of a chicken to reveal his preferences, I'll ask you....boxers, briefs, or banana hammock?

Easy. Boxer briefs … preferably in color. (“Banana hammock” … ?!?!? What do you think I am ... an elephant ... ?!?)

_____________________________________________________

Don't forget the rules....

You have to link back to the original post (http://immoralmatriarch.com/questionsagain) and Rupe's post and include the following in your post:

Want to be part of it? Follow these instructions:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

........................ Ruprecht ( STOP )