Wednesday, December 13, 2006

would you like to take a ride in my _onda?

so sometime yesterday, between the moment i parked my 2001 Honda Accord in the garage across the street from my place of business downtown and the moment i walked back to it in the evening to transport myself home after a long day at work, some passerby became mesmerized with the "H" Honda logo on my car's trunk and decided that he absolutely just had to have it!

As Superintendent Chalmers once lamented to Principal Seymour Skinner upon discovery of the theft of his own 1979 Honda Accord's logo:

"Holy jumping Caesar's catfish! My H has been stolen! Awww, thats how people know its a Honda. Why would you drive a Honda if you cant show it off?"

once i laughed, but now i can share his pain.

honda shop says that the metal logo runs $16.72, who knows how hot the dealership coals will get for labor costs (the metal prongs that affix the logo seem to have been left in the trunk, so there's probably some extra elbow grease cost to get those out).

there are BMWs and Mercedes parked all around me every day, wouldn't either of those car emblems look better hanging from a gold chain?

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

the self-confident waiter

probably a couple of months ago (when things were busy and blog-posting time was in short supply) my parents and younger sister came to Houston.

we all went out to eat that night at Houston's, one of our favorite restaurants in the area.

all together we numbered just five people.

our waiter provided us with adequate service; waters were refilled, ketchup was provided upon request.

when the check was presented, however, it was evident that the waiter believed strongly in the quality of his labors relative to our dining experience.

the waiter believed in himself so much that he wrote in an 18% tip and the total due on the receipt, as if the review of his service was a foregone conclusion.

unless Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed were sitting at our table in ghost form our group did not meet the typical 'large-party' status that usually endures an automatic gratuity.

maybe the waiter knew that Buddha is a notoriously cheap tipper (and he always passes it off like 'hey tips are just a fleeting material possession, the desire of which you need to relinquish". pfffffft)

T is for Trashcan

grace and i live in a nice apartment complex. it's not in the ritziest part of town, there are fancier properties out there, but i'd say ours is well ahead of most of the pack in Houston.

given the property's generally upscale appearance you'd think that it would attract (and rent prices would demand) more responsible and developmentally mature tenants.

this is not so.

as months ago when the grounds around our complex's eastern wall were vandalized by the aerial refuse of the The Dastardly Femme Discarder, so now is our very building being visited by the Vanishing Leaver.

The VL is some fellow tenant who either lives in our building or at least parks in front of it on a regular basis. About every week Grace and/or I will come home from work or an evening errand and discover his handiwork.

For whatever reason the VL, when exiting his/her parked car, feels compelled to leave a fast-food bag (assuredly full of leftover wrappers, cartons, and unwanted food) and paper drink cup neatly arranged between his/her car and the car in the adjoining space.

Grace's theory is that the VL is a closet fast-food eater who must conceal his/her secret shame from would-be disapprovers living in the apartment with him/her.

my theory is that the VL is flawed at a fundamental level. some derailment of the maturing process has to occur for you to lack the basic understanding and agreement that trash is placed in a trashcan.

an average of thirty steps from the parking spaces in front of our building would provide a round trip to the nearest dumpster and back.

this is not too much to ask.