Tag Archives: Rant

D*mn Right I’m Going To Pick Out The Lettuce

After learning that one of our favorite chain restaurants was permanently closed, the bf and I headed to a smaller, possibly local (?) Mexican joint. We walked in the door and immediately asked about some beautiful drinks a waiter was carrying.

We got chips and salsa and ordered 16 ounces of awesome called a Crazy Horse. (16 ounces each, thank you very much.) Mango, peach, guava, and strawberry margaritas mixed in the second biggest glass I’d ever seen. For the life of me I still can’t figure out what the blue part of the drink was, but it was good, so I won’t complain.

About that.

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16 ounces is the perfect size to drink with dinner, apparently.

I perused the menu and found a burrito that sounded awesome. Chicken, rice, beans, pepper, and onion. And when the burrito arrived at the table? There was an extra ingredient. Sneaky, disgusting, slimy. Lettuce.

This restaurant in particular did not have abnormally gross lettuce. To me, it’s all gross. If it’s not listed on the menu, how the heck do I know to request its absence? I don’t.

Seriously, almost every restaurant ever – why do you want me to eat lettuce so badly?! It’s mostly water, it’s not like it’s some life changing food. If you want to ruin smother all your meals with crunchy, green water, at least give me a warning!

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Fact: I don’t even eat lettuce in salads. Spinach all the way! Also fact: I didn’t plan to post this image anywhere so it’s not very good. Oops…

I mean, what if I was allergic to lettuce? I’d be DEAD! Twenty two years of picking out little green specs has given me a keen eye, but sometimes I miss a piece. (And trust me, I CAN taste it, no matter what my mother insists.) If people can be allergic to sunlight it doesn’t seem impossible I could be allergic to lettuce.

In fact, I do feel a bit ill every time I crunch into a sliver. I have the chills just thinking about it.

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Truth, this isn’t me after lettuce. This is me after half a bottle of rum. But I wasn’t about to eat lettuce just to take a picture.

Please, restaurant owners and future restaurant owners – you can taste lettuce. And to some of us, it tastes NASTY. It’s not a garnishment if it’s hidden inside of my food. It’s just an obstacle to enjoying my meal. Please stop acting like it’s no big deal to sneak in cheap ingredients. I’d rather have a small burrito than one filled with little green land mines.

At least slap a warning label on that sucker: Contains the single food item you’ve spent more than two decades picking out of your food (please ask if you want omitted so you can actually enjoy your food while it’s warm).

Sincerely,
No, that piece is NOT too small to taste and I will not eat until I’m confident there is no lettuce left on my plate

Dear Amatuer Extreme Couponer In Line In Front Of Me:

Good God woman, what possessed you to find 20+ coupons for fucking vitamins? You and I both know you’re not going to take all, or probably any, of those pills. To be honest, I’m a little concerned about your health.

And what’s worse? You can apparently read the fine print of a coupon, but you can’t read the sign that says 10 items or less? It’s only four words! But, despite seeing that you had far more than 10 items (and 30 bottles of 2 kinds of pills counts as 30 items, not 2, just so you know), I thought you were almost done. I was wrong.

I have learned that the only thing worse than the stereotypical old person who counts every single penny to get the perfect change, is the damn couponing bitch who is literally still cutting the coupons while standing in line. Put the scissors away, your time is up.

So I’m waiting in line behind you while the poor teenaged cashier glances at me every few minutes with looks of sympathy and hints of annoyance. I, too, feel annoyed. And I feel sorry for myself. And for her. And I really have to pee. She tells me she can save my order while I go to the bathroom, but surprise surprise you’re still arguing about coupons when I get back. Finally, freaking finally, they open a third check out lane for us. I stomp out of the store with my 6 fucking groceries and you’re still arguing with the poor staff. Bless their souls. You’re not going to make it on TLC’s Extreme Couponers. Please just stop annoying everyone and wasting my favorite grocery store’s money. There is a better way to pay for your obvious multivitamin addiction: getting a damn job with the hours you waste cutting coupons and pestering corporate about little known policies.

Sincerely,
Grocery shopping took me two freaking hours this afternoon, and a disgusting proportion of that was thanks to you.

The Rant of a Male Sympathizer

*The following is a rant, one I hope is inspiring rather than irritating. Fair warning, I’m a woman, so I’m only assuming I know how some men feel. Enjoy!*

Has everyone seen the new (well, at least it was new to me) Dove video? One of those artists from the FBI draws women based on their perception of themselves and then someone else’s description of them, all without actually seeing them! Then all the women look at the two images and compare them. And every single time, the other person’s image was more beautiful, and more accurate, than their own.

It’s pretty sad, I teared up. You see, it really hits home for me, and I doubt I’m the only one. I honestly believe women have a lot to learn from this. But without downplaying the importance of this -experiment I guess?- I’d like to suggest something similar for men.

That’s right, I’m a male sympathizer. I’m a terribly empathetic person.

There is no denying so many women need to love themselves a little lot more, but many men do, too! Men are completely ignored on this topic. Men CAN feel bad abut themselves. Men CAN hate their bodies. Men CAN be anorexic, and calling it “manorexic” is just as toxic to men as the ‘rape culture’ is to women.

In addition to having the all too human emotion of self-doubt, and even self-loathing, men have the illusion that these feelings are feminine. That they somehow take away from a fella’s manliness.

Guess what. They don’t!

Women, if we want to stand up against culture and the status quo for ourselves, let’s not shove others down to do so.

Feminism is about equality. It’s not about dragging men down. We all deserve equal pay. We all deserve an equal shot at child custody after a divorce. ALL of us are responsible for birth control. None of us should be the victims of a ‘rape culture’. And none of us should have to suffer in silence because we’re forced to act stronger than we really are.