I had to get some blood work done last week, because WELCOME TO AGE 27. I made a 9:15 appointment, and even arrived for my appointment with my kindle and my optimism ONE HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLY. I'm sorry to report that the whole saga took three hours.
The poor phlebotomist seemed very frazzled when she finally called me back at 10:35, and because I don't want someone who is about to poke me with a needle and draw blood to be in a bad mood, I expressed my sympathy at how busy she was. She apologized profusely and explained that the corporate office has decided to have ONE PERSON working at a time in order to maximize efficiency.
Note to the corporate office: that is not in any way efficient.
I think before the execs made that decision, they should have had to sit for three hours in a small waiting room with seventeen people who haven't had anything to eat or drink in twelve hours.
As I sat in the waiting room reading my book, I drafted a blog post in my head about my predicament that started with "I think I've found the one place on earth more inefficient than my local branch of the United States Postal Service."
And then, since I am a glutton for punishment, I paid a visit to my local post office on Friday to mail a few letters because I am old fashioned and I also have a lot of time on my hands lately that I am using to pen correspondence like I'm Emily Dickinson or something.
Anyway, I walked into the post office and was immediately greeted by the friendliest postal worker I've ever met, and she handed me a water bottle and a soft pretzel in celebration of CUSTOMER APPRECIATION DAY.
I could hardly believe my good luck.
I started to eat my soft pretzel right there in the (long, very long) line, and when she offered a pretzel to man behind me, he said, "No thank you, I just ate a sandwich."
"JUST ATE A SANDWICH?" she said.
"OH HONEY, HOW OFTEN DOES THE GOVERNMENT GIVE YOU SOMETHING FOR FREE?WHEN THE POST OFFICE GIVES YOU SOMETHING FOR FREE, YOU TAKE IT, EVEN IF YOU'RE NOT HUNGRY."
She speaks the truth.
The soft pretzel was the kickoff to a delicious food weekend, and the next night Matt and I decided to order take out for dinner. We both ordered cheese steaks and a side, or as I like to call them, accessories. Because I am so health conscious, I selected a vegetable in the form of onion rings for my accessory, and Matt ordered loaded fries.
On the way to pick up dinner, I asked, "So, what exactly is on loaded fries?" and Matt said, with a smile and all of the enthusiasm in the world, "EVERYTHING IN THE BASEMENT!!"
After a few clarifying questions, we determined that he meant, "everything but the kitchen sink."
I think he might need to spend some serious time reading my recent blog.
Maybe I'll make him an appointment for blood work.