Hm.
I wonder if I’m making any sense at the moment, so let me back up and start differently: I am starving. I just ate lunch a few hours ago, but now I’m hungry again. I just walked to the lunchroom and nothing I saw in our two vending machines was going to satisfy my cravings, so I walked back to my desk empty handed. Then I remembered that Japan has these vending machines that dispense real food. Like hot soba noodles, fried dumplings, etc. The first time I saw a row of these things (in a rest stop outside Tokyo, no less) I laughed, took a picture of them, and then immediately bought some ramen. Not because I was hungry, but because I basically bought something out of every weird vending machine I saw while in Japan. (Sadly, though, I never found one of those infamous “girls’ panties” vending machines I’d heard so much about, so I suspect that they don’t really exist.) But to my surprise, the ramen was actually pretty good. I figured it would taste rubbery and/or not very much like food, but I was wrong. Never let it be said that the Japanese don’t know what they’re doing when it comes to the creation of innovative machinery.
Shortly after my trip I began to wonder why America hasn’t jumped on this particular vending machine bandwagon. I do realize that, for as consumer-oriented as we are in the States, the Japanese are even more so--but how can you go wrong with hot food from a vending machine? Sure, sometimes a Snickers Bar is all we need, but more often than not I’d prefer something with a little more substance.
Anyway, my point is that I’m hungry and it’s too cold outside for me to be willing to walk to the Chinese takeout place that’s a mere two blocks away. And I could order delivery, but then everybody would be like, “Why didn’t you just walk over there?” Plus they have a $15 minimum delivery cutoff, and all I really want is some wanton soup and an egg roll.
Stupid lunchroom Coke machine. You don’t even talk.
You know what else rocks? Spending the weekend in Boston. Well, not in Boston per se, but in the ‘burbs, where my older sister lives. Monday is my niece’s first birthday and my parents, my brother, and I are all descending on my sister’s house tomorrow to help her celebrate. Yee-hah! I had some anxiety picking out presents (on Sunday, which I failed to mention as part of my “getting a lotta shit done on Sunday” entry a few days back), because I don’t really remember a whole lot from when I turned 1 year old. Plus I wasn’t a girl, even back then. So I visited this swanky toy store I found (mainly because it’s right next to the Borders in which I’d been browsing; yes, I’m quite the detective), and the nice lady with the big Jersey hair who runs the place pointed me to the toddlers aisle.
Here’s my problem: I pick presents based on how cool I think they are. This strategy normally works whenever I’m finding stuff for adults, but not in the case of my 1-year-old niece. Don’t get me wrong, I found plenty of stuff to get excited about--like this giant multicolored plastic cube thing that had all these buttons and cranks and made some crazy noises--but each time I saw something cool I’d notice a fat logo on the side of the box that said “18 months and older.” Apparently you have to be 1 1/2 before you’re allowed to play with the really cool toys. So to an outside observer I probably looked and sounded a lot like Ralphie’s little brother on Christmas morning in A Christmas Story: “Oh boy! That’s mine!” [sees “18 months” logo] “Aww...” [picks up another cool looking toy] “Hey, wow!” [sees “18 months” logo] “Aw, c’mon Ralphie, jeez...”
But I finally found a few interesting items that were suitable for the second-class citizens of toddlerdom (in this case a simpler version of the noisy-as-all-hell cube thing and a set of cups with goofy faces and odd holes poked in them for use during bath time, of which I’m told my niece is a big fan [meaning bath time, that is—-not cups]), stood in line to make my purchases, and made a mental note to come back when the store wasn’t as crowded and I’d be able to play with all the Legos without being subjected to weird looks from parents and kids alike.
Apparently that kind of thing is frowned upon if you don’t have a kid of your own in tow....
No comments:
Post a Comment