YOU CAN’T SCARE ME, I ATE FUGU AND YELLED AT A MOUNTAIN

Two more bucket list items have officially been conquered. And this time, I had to leave the country, risk death by dinner, and wake up early on purpose to do it.

I just returned from Japan, where I successfully crossed off:

• #82: Eat fugu (pufferfish)
• #17: Personally photograph Mount Fuji

🎣 Fugu Me? Fugu You!

For the uninitiated, fugu is the Japanese delicacy that might be your last meal if the chef screws up. It’s prepared from a pufferfish that contains enough poison to turn your nervous system into a Windows 95 shutdown sequence. It is 1,200 times more lethal than cyanide and has enough tetrodotoxin to kill 30 men (or 12 baby elephants). And there is no known antidote. If you get a bad batch, not even an industrial drum of Pepto will save you. In Japan, only licensed chefs are allowed to prepare it because “Oops, I left a speck of death on your plate” isn’t a great Yelp review.

Naturally, I was in.

And yes, I know the odds of dying from fugu are astronomically low these days. But when you’ve built your entire personality around crossing off strange bucket list items, you don’t pass on the opportunity to eat something that comes with a side of “potential autopsy.”

In case you are wondering, here is what happens if the chef sneezes while preparing the dish.

• Tingling lips and face
  Starts like mild Novocaine. You think, “How quirky!” No. It’s doom knocking.
• Numbness spreads
  Lips, then face, fingers, toes — your body is clocking out while your brain is like, “Wait, what?”
• Muscle paralysis begins
  Arms and legs go limp. You are now a floppy meat puppet.
• Loss of motor function
  Can’t stand. Can’t lift your arm. Can’t even flail for dramatic effect.
• Slurred or halted speech
  Your mouth forgets how to be a mouth. You try to say, “Call an ambulance!” but it comes out as “glorble blarp.”
• Diaphragm paralysis
  Breathing? That was fun while it lasted. Your lungs are officially on strike.
• Heart rate drops
  Your ticker is slowing like it just saw Monday on the calendar.
• Complete paralysis
  You can’t move. Can’t blink. You are essentially a conscious potato.
• Full awareness remains intact
  You feel everything. You hear everything. You know you’re dying. But your body’s like, “Sorry, bro. We’re closed.”
• Death by suffocation
  Not dramatic choking — just a slow, silent fade as oxygen stops making the rounds, while your still-working brain mentally screams into the void.

Fugu: because nothing says “fine dining” like watching your own slow-motion shutdown while everyone else is Instagramming their appetizers.

I went to a legit spot in Kyoto. Not some back-alley sushi shack run by a guy named Gary who once watched a YouTube video on pufferfish. I went to Watanabeya (海鮮処 わたなべや). This place had a certificate on the wall (I think. I don't know Japanese.), a stone-faced chef with terrifying knife skills, and a menu written entirely in kanji. So, I assume it said, “Eat at your own risk, Brett.”

They did have an English menu, but it only had about 12 things on it and none of it was fugu. I had to ask the waitress if they had it.She repeated my apparently butchered pronunciation about ten times just to make sure she wasn't about to serve me fermented horse liver. "Hai. Hai. Fugu. Yes."

She gave me this.

She pointed at two items. "This fugu. This fugu," and left me there to decide my fate.

Using my handy-dandy Google Translate camera, I saw that one was grilled and one was hot pot. Now, I like hot pot, but I just wanted to eat the death fish. Not a soup that had toxic fish in it.

I placed my order along with a couple of beers to get mentally prepared for this. I was psyched, but then the waitress came back to make it worse.

WAIT?!? I have to cook the Grim Reaper fish myself?

 

Was it good?

Sure. But also… not not rubbery.

Honestly, it tasted like tilapia that went to college and got a philosophy degree. Not bad, but you’re mostly eating it to say you ate it. Like escargot. Or airport sushi.

The highlight wasn’t the taste. It was the drama. Every bite came with just enough existential spice to make me rethink my life choices.

And it was worth every paranoid chew.

🗻 Mount Fuji: Now Featuring Me in the Frame

The second item on the list was much less dangerous, but way more majestic.

Mount Fuji has been on my bucket list since I first learned what a bucket list was. I’ve seen a million photos of it, but I wanted one that I took. Something that said, “I was there. I aimed my cheap tourist camera at greatness. And I didn't drop it in a koi pond.”

Now, if you’re planning to see Mount Fuji, here’s something the brochures don’t tell you: she’s a diva.

Fuji hides behind clouds like she’s contractually obligated to only appear for National Geographic photographers or people who didn’t fly across the world just for her. When I first saw it after getting off the bus, I snapped a quick shot.

Do you see it? Yeah. Me, neither. But it was there. I swear.

 

I saw it many, many times over the next few days, but the best shot was the evening of the next day.

 

There she was—towering, symmetrical, snow-capped, and absolutely perfect.

It looked like someone reached into a painting and hit "print."

I stood there for a good 20 minutes snapping photos, just in case she changed her mind and disappeared again like some geologically massive ghost.

✅ So That’s Two More Off the List

I’ve eaten a potential death fish like a daring contestant on Fear Factor: Sushi Edition.
I’ve personally photographed one of the most iconic mountains on Earth without having to Google “why is it cloudy at Mount Fuji?”

That brings me to a total of 14 completed bucket list items out of 171.

And I’m not stopping now.

Stay tuned. Because eventually I’m going to run with the bulls, bathe in a volcano, or build a robot that teaches itself to yodel. No promises on the order.

You can see the complete list here.

Disney+: Now with 20% More Legal Shenanigans!

Gather ‘round, kids, and let me tell you the tale of how streaming “The Mandalorian” could apparently stop you from suing a mouse.

Recently, a man named Jeffrey Piccolo filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Disney. A tragic story: his wife, Dr. Kanokporn Tangsuan, died after suffering a severe allergic reaction at Raglan Road Irish Pub in Disney Springs October 2023. According to reports, she had clearly informed the staff about her food allergies. Despite this, she was served something she shouldn’t have been, and she collapsed and died shortly after.

Now, you might think this is when Disney steps up, offers condolences, and cooperates with the investigation like any reasonable entity would. But no. Disney reached into its bag of legal tricks, pulled out a shiny, glittery scroll, and shouted, “Aha! You clicked ‘Agree’ to our streaming service Terms & Conditions. Checkmate!”

Disney+ terms prevent allergy death lawsuit, Disney says

Disney's legal team argued that because Piccolo had previously signed up for a free trial of Disney+ FOUR YEARS PREVIOUS (2019), he had agreed to an arbitration clause tucked into the 74-page novella of Terms & Conditions that none of us ever read (unless you’re a robot or a lawyer, or a robot lawyer). According to Disney, this meant he waived his right to sue any part of the Disney empire. Including the theme parks, the restaurants, and presumably even a haunted animatronic if it malfunctions and turns on you.

This is like saying, “Hey, I know your leg got crushed on Dumbo's Wild Ride, but you did use that Lion King meme on Facebook a few years back, so…”

 

Thankfully, the public response to this legal jujitsu was swift and appropriately horrified. After being dragged harder than a villain in a Pixar sequel, Disney eventually backed off and dropped their attempt to enforce the Disney+ clause. The lawsuit will proceed in court where, you know, actual justice happens. Ideally. Of course, Disney has a Space Mountain full of lawyers, so there is no way this guy will ever see any compensation, but the streaming agreement clause thing was thrown out so...WIN?

Now, let’s take a long, hard look into our magic mirrors (the judgmental kind, not the one that just tells you you’re pretty) and ask what this story really reflects. We all joke about how Terms & Conditions are unreadable. We scroll, we click, and we move on with our lives because, really (like Cinderella), who has the time? But when a streaming contract tries to sneakily ban you from holding a megacorporation accountable for something that happened in a completely unrelated part of the business. That’s not quirky or clever. That’s creepy. That’s dystopian. That's evil stepmother treachery. That’s… very on-brand for 2025, actually.

In the end, this story has everything: tragedy, bureaucracy, streaming subscriptions, and a lesson we should probably tattoo on our collective consciousness:

Never trust a giant corporation to have your best interests at heart. They will sell you a churro, kill you with it, and then argue you consented to it because you tapped your toes to “We Don't Talk About Bruno” while watching Encanto.

So next time you click “Agree,” remember: you might just be signing away your right to sue if Donald Duck ever breaks your kneecaps.

R - Romance - #AtoZChallenge

Logan removed his suit jacket. He was burning up. He started to loosen his tie, but changed his mind. There was no point in getting getting dressed up to look nice, if he wore his clothes sloppily. Plus, he knew it was just nerves. He took a long sip of cold water to try to calm and cool himself.

Amy had called to let him know she would be late and the waitress kept coming by to see if he wanted to order anything. It was a busy night and they seemed to want to clear the table if no food was being ordered.

"She'll be here soon," he insisted to the waitress. "I'll have a Stella Artois while I wait."

Logan figured ordering something other than water would satisfy the wait staff for a while. He had wanted to avoid alcohol tonight to keep his wits together. Tonight had to go perfectly. He reached to pat his jacket pocket to double-check the ring was still there. He had a moment of panic before he remembered he had removed his jacket, but that pat did show him that he was sweating through his shirt. He put the jacket back on to hide his nervous sweat stains.

He and Amy had been talking about marriage and their future for the last year. He had no doubt she would say yes, but making it official was a big step. Tonight was a big night. He hoped she would arrive before he melted into the floor. Where was she?

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is A for Adventure.

Let the Right Ones In

The United States has a big problem that has been around for a long time. This topic dominates much of the political discourse not only on television but in bars, restaurants, hair salons and coffee shops around the country.

IMMIGRATION

The immigration crisis is such an issue that every political candidate as far back as I can remember has been expected to have a clearly defined immigration platform. It's right up there in importance with the economy, education reform, and favorite sexual deviance.

Whatever your stance on how immigration reform should be handled, I think most of us can agree that not EVERY single person who wants to come into our country should just be allowed to do so. There has to be some sort of screening process. And I have some suggestions on how to choose who can stay and who has to be sent back.

Before I explain my system, let me explain some of my criteria for how my system works. No one will ever be rejected because of their country of origin. Name the dirtiest, nastiest, most evil-minded country you can think of. I will not be suggesting this country for you. Your own personal brand of racism must be used for this answer. Believe it or not, there are probably a few decent people even from that cesspool of depraved humanity.

They will also not be selected to stay or be rejected based upon their career, education, spoken language, favorite Fraggle, gender, sexual orientation, movie collection, religion, talent, or opinion of the Kardashians. And nothing about their appearance will have any effect on the decision made except for two things: people who wear socks with sandals and anyone sporting a fanny pack. We don't need any more of those people. They will be pulled directly from the line before even making it to the processing interview.

There is just no excuse for this.

Once in front of a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officer, their native language will be determined immediately. If they already speak English as their first language, then there are a few extra rules applied to them immediately. These people will be given a short text to read out loud. This text contains keywords which must be pronounced correctly for the arriving immigrant to be given further consideration.

• library - both Rs must be clearly heard
• nuclear - correct pronunciation is (noo-klee-er), not (noo-kyuh-ler) nucular
• supposedly - this should not have to be said, but there is no B in this word

If English is not their first language and they make it all the way through screening, their case will be reviewed after one year. By then, proper pronunciation of these words should be achieved. Accent is not an issue. Proper letter placement is.

Immigration processing takes a long time. At some point, the applicants for entry will need to eat. They will be provided with a full hot meal in a cafeteria. This meal is just as important to the screening process as the interview. All applicants for entry will be carefully observed while dining. Any individual who does understand the concept of queuing (waiting in line for your turn), will be immediately removed and denied entry. Much of life in America is waiting in line (restaurants, banks, the DMV, etc.) and thinking they can jump to the front causes stress for everyone. The practice or non-practice of this custom in their own country is of no consequence. They are out. Even demanding the attention of a cafeteria employee while that employee is working with another customer will get them removed.

While eating their meal, immigrants will be observed for basic table manners. Some may need to be given a pamphlet to help them understand what may be different from their own country, but there are certain practices that will elicit immediate removal and denial of their application.

• Biting down on their fork and pulling it through their teeth. The sound is worse than nails on a chalkboard. We can't let more people into the country who are doing this.
• Anyone who appears to be personally offended by someone else's choice of food.
• Anyone dining with children who do not keep their spawn at the table with them (not running around),  reasonably quiet, and not a nuisance to other people.
• Leaving an unnecessary mess behind at your table. Even if you have children. Children are a little messier but after you leave it should not look like a macaroni orgy exploded at the table.

Kids can be messy. However, leaving the table like this for someone 
else to clean up, should get people (including citizens) deported.

To promote harmony within our borders, these criteria are necessary. These rules will not be defined before they eat. They are not based on a person's culture, but on their respect for their fellow man.

This test of respect for other people is extended to bathroom practices also. A restroom attendant will be stationed outside of each restroom. After an applicant leaves the restroom, the attendant will go in for inspection. He will be looking for one thing. If there is any sign of feces outside of the toilet bowl, their application for entry is pulled. Whatever gross practice a person may have for not being able to accomplish the simple task of crapping is none of our concern. However, we are greatly concerned that you just left that nastiness there for some other person to take care of. Get out.

GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!
AND DON'T EVER TRY TO COME BACK!

During processing, each person applying for entry will be given a stipend and sent into a small store to pick up a list of things. Twenty random applicants will be in the store at a time to not only observe their shopping practices but their interaction with each other. Immigration officers will be watching on closed-circuit television for certain "immediate disqualification" practices. The following will have them removed from consideration from entry into our great country:

• Unnecessarily blocking an aisle with your cart. The aisle has room for two carts to pass. No reason to leave it in the middle.
• Blocking someone's path through a crowded aisle when they can clearly see that the person is trying to get through.
• Any instance of picking up an item and later placing it on a random shelf in the wrong place. An applicant who changes their mind about a product would be expected to return it to its original location.

As with the restaurant test, these infractions that disqualify a person will not be explained to them ahead of time. This scenario was designed to observe their respect for other people. Every culture has polite and rude people. And the concept of what is considered rude is vastly different around the globe. However, being a nuisance or a burden to other people says something about the offender's character. No one should have to be told that preventing other people from getting through is unacceptable. It should just be the natural way a person thinks. Letting these people in would only increase the number of inconsiderate people in our country who also believe it is acceptable to just leave their shopping cart anywhere in the parking lot.

Another test happens at the desk of the interviewing officer. Once the interview process has begun, any applicant who chooses to answer a text, check Facebook, post a selfie, take a phone call, tweet or do anything with their phone other than check the time will be escorted back to their side of the border.

One of the great things about America is the fact that we are a nation full of immigrants. There is no typical way that an American looks. We have people from all over the world and those people bring the customs of their country here with them. This makes for a rich and diverse cross-section of people and practices. This massive conglomeration of beliefs and practices only works when we respect each other and treat other people the way we would like to be treated.

The behavior guidelines stated in the preceding paragraphs are intended to give ICE officials the tools needed to weed out the inconsiderate jackasses before they enter into our country. Cross-cultural interactions already have enough confusions and misunderstandings. There's no need to add self-centered carelessness into the mix as well. We already have enough people here like that.

In fact, give it a few years, and I strongly suggest we start cracking down on and revoking the citizenship of the pricks who are already here doing this stuff now.

Give me a chance. I'll clean this stuff up.

Fortune Cookie #7 - Opportunity Knocks

This week I got to visit my favorite restaurant China Buffet #6 which is named #6 because it is the sixth restaurant the owner started and not something cool like the first five were cursed by a Chinese spirit and this is the first one to succeed. As usual, the meal was wonderful and they soon brought us our fortune cookies. I received the following fortune:

When you learn to be flexible, amazing opportunities reveal themselves!

So, the key to opportunity is flexibility? This must be one of those ancient Chinese secrets that are always being whispered about in dark alleys and billiard rooms, because I have never heard this before. I know of many people who are jealous of a dog's flexibility, but I don't believe those are the types of opportunities that are being suggested here. After all, this was a fortune cookie, not a footnote from the Kama Sutra.

And he just happens to be Chinese!
Coincidence? I think not!

As someone who is always looking for amazing opportunities instead of the regular, run-of-the-mill, day-to-day, boring opportunities, I gave this some serious thought. The most flexible person I could think of was that little Chinese dude Yen in Ocean's Eleven. He became a multi-millionaire in that movie and he only had the opportunity to do so because of his flexibility, so there seems to be some truth to this fortune. Flexibility does present opportunity.

I already stretch every morning, so I have a little flexibility, but it is nowhere near the ability of Yen. He spent a third of those movies folded up into some tiny space. I need to do much more than stretch to even begin to reach his level of elasticity.

Being the lazy mentally-driven intellectual that I am, I need to think about this more before I actually start doing anything. Seriously, what types of opportunities are out there. Yen became rich by using his flexibility as part of a criminal crew. I'm not sure that I want to live a life of crime. Criminals have a tendency to be shot by not only the police, but other criminals. I don't think I want to get shot. It would probably hurt.

If the life of a criminal is off the table, then what is left opportunity-wise for the flexible person? Before Yen turned to a life of crime, he was a circus performer. All I can come up with is a life in the circus or performing as a sideshow freak next to the sword swallowers, basketball playing duck, fire eater, yodeling chicken and bearded lady.

Not only would neither of those lifestyles be very glamorous, but I don't imagine they pay very well either. With a little bit of research, I found that the Bureau of Labor Statistics actually keeps track of this sort of thing. According to eHow.com, contortionists make roughly between $9 and $33 an hour, but those higher paid ones work for places like Cirque de Soleil and everyone knows that getting that type of job relies more on who you know than what you can do.

I have come to the conclusion that this fortune may be true according to the perspective of the people who wrote it, but the Chinese are willing to live in apartments the size of a coffin and work 18 hours a day for $0.43/hour. So, their idea of what qualifies as an amazing opportunity would probably only be mildly tolerable to me.

Once again, I love the China Buffet #6, but have to question the validity of their fortunes.

Culinary Adventures

I love food.

I mean, really love food. I especially like to try new foods. If a restaurant is serving something I have never had before, you can be assured that is what I will order. There is so much good food out there, I never know when I may stumble across a culinary delight that I might not have already known about.

I have never understood picky eaters. I do understand that some people don't like a lot of things. There is nothing they can do about that. I won't judge. However, the people that won't even try something new baffle me. What are they afraid of? If you don't like it, you don't like it. What's the big deal?

I am not referring to people with dietary restrictions or health concerns that restrict what they can eat. I have a friend that grew up with an extremely limited diet and after a gall bladder surgery there is very little that his body will allow him to eat. He and others like him get let off the hook. The same goes for vegetarians, the lactose intolerant and people with food allergies.

I know this is not true in all cases, but many of the people that refuse to try new things are not doing it because of taste. They just have no sense of adventure or have concluded they don't like something when they don't actually know. They've decided what they eat and do not venture from it. In high school, my friend Jeff was eating dinner with my family and was halfway through his third bowl of chili when he complimented my mother on how great it was. She thanked him and replied that she was trying to get rid of the last of the deer burger we had in the freezer and thought chili would be the way to go. Jeff turned green and set the bowl down. After spitting out what was still in his mouth, he said, "What? This is deer? I hate deer!" He then ran to the bathroom to clean out his mouth.

He had already eaten three bowls and even commented on how good it was. How could he honestly say he didn't like it? However, he maintained his stance when he came back. It was hard to take him seriously.

Kirsten has a friend that has spent the night many times. On several occasions, she has walked into the kitchen as I am making dinner to ask what we're having.

"I'm making a tuna casserole."

"Oh, I don't like tuna!"

"I'm sorry. Did I say tuna? I meant chicken casserole."

I would then continue to make the tuna casserole. The great thing about this kid is I would tell her the truth halfway through the meal and she would admit "I guess I like tuna now." Good girl. 

She has eaten lots of things at my house that she claimed she didn't like. One time, after showing her disgust for something in her own home, her dad asked her why she is so picky at home when she will eat anything at my house. She answered, "Well, it's probably because Brett lies a lot." I can't deny the truth of that statement.

Any guest in my house quickly learns that I will not fix a special meal for them. They are more than welcome to share a meal with us, but they can eat what we are eating. The same rule applies to children. I raised mine that way. No child will starve himself. If my children refused to eat something, I didn't force them. However, they would not be allowed a bite of anything else until they ate what was served. Even if it took two days. They weren't picky for long and today are very adventurous eaters.

On the few trips I've made out of the country, I've been part of a group and could never understand why they would vote to go to McDonald's or Taco Bell when it came time to eat. Why would you want to eat something that you can get back home? We're in a foreign land. Let's try something local. Let's experience what this country has to offer. Of course, these are usually the same people that want to hit the local mall rather than see the sites and experience the culture.

As for myself, I will eat anything that is considered food. I would never expect people to eat some of the things that I have eaten, but anyone who says they are hungry and then turns their nose up at a plate of food doesn't have any concept of what hungry actually means. However, if you would like to have an eating adventure, accompany me into the city to find something new. This is a favorite activity of my daughter and myself. On our last outing, we ate uncooked quail eggs right out of the shell and raw eel. We weren't impressed by the eggs, but the eel was amazing.

Believe it or not, I have eaten 
something very similar to this.

I have eaten octopus on many occasions and sometimes it is raw (which is the best way to eat it). Once, like the picture above, it was still alive. The one I had was much larger.

I have eaten bear, iguana, elk, shark, moose, ostrich, earthworms, emu, dog, rattlesnake, rat, crocodile, various insects, rabbit, frog, squid, guinea pig, caterpillar, crawdads, squirrel, horse, tarantula, raccoon, dolphin, alligator, opossum, and even skunk. I've tried hundreds of different exotic fruits, vegetables, roots, and flowers that I had never even heard of until they were in front of me. Some of these I sought out, others were eaten because the opportunity presented itself. I didn't like all of them, but I never refuse to eat something. Even if I don't like it, I will finish what is served to me. You will never see me spit out food.

The DURIAN.
Banned in many public places due to the smell.

I have several specific foods on my list that I would like to try. I want to eat a durian. I have heard it described as tasting like a soggy onion. It doesn't sound good, but I know no one who has eaten one. I just have to.

I also want to eat the Japanese dish fugu. It must be prepared by highly specialized chefs who are trained to properly remove the neurotoxins of the puffer fish so as not to kill the consumer. Although, I may wait until I am highly advanced in years before I try this one.

I have a friend who has invited me over to eat balut as soon as we can find a way to get around the Illinois state shipping laws. I will not describe this dish here, but you can click its name if you're curious.

I don't expect everyone to be this adventurous, but there is so much good food that goes beyond the American standard of meat and potatoes. Try something new every now and then. You never know when you might stumble upon your next favorite.

Working for the Man

She doesn't look like she would have
homicidal thoughts, but it is a dark
place inside her head.

Another of those milestones has happened that helps to assure me that I am a grown up. My daughter Kirsten has gotten her first job.

She started working at Arby's about two weeks ago and is learning what it means to have a job. She has already gotten to experience the heartache of learning that her friends are getting together and she can't go because she has to work.

So far, she hasn't worked longer than a three hour shift, but still complains when she comes home about how much her feet hurt. I try not to laugh.

She works the cash register and takes orders for people. She's seeing first-hand how nasty and mean some people can be. She has never before had to deal with the public in this manner and is quickly losing her faith in humanity. She already has a disdain for most people and this is just helping to solidify her belief that the world would be a much better place if she were allowed to kill people that ticked her off. Legislation is pending.

Her brother worked at this same restaurant for four years and was instrumental in her getting this job. He didn't want her to get grounded for not finding a job like he did when he was sixteen. He has learned a few things.

Arby's treated Christian well while he was there so I don't have many concerns. There are several places that take advantage of teenage workers knowing that they are new to the work force and don't know any better.

EVIL EVIL EVIL MACHINE

My first job was at Rax, a roast beef place similar to Arby's. They had a clock in/clock out rule that was not fair to the employees, but I didn't realize this until years later. They would round the time cards to the nearest quarter hour, but made sure that it always fell in their favor. When you came to work, you could not clock in until 7 minutes before your shift. If you clocked in a minute earlier, it would round back to the last quarter hour and you would get paid for 7 minutes you hadn't worked. This seemed fair enough, but they timed it that way for clocking out also. If you were scheduled to get off at 10, they would keep you busy until 10:07 to get those 7 free minutes. If you missed it and didn't get to the clock until 10:08, then you had to keep working until 10:22. Once again, to get those 7 free minutes. They did the same for clocking in and out for your breaks. On any given shift, they could get up to 28 minutes of free work out of their employees. Over the course of a pay period you might lose a few hours off every check.

My next job was at Bonanza. I was a busboy. On my first week of work, I got into trouble because I would come in at my scheduled time, clock in and start working. They didn't want their busboys to do that. That wanted us to come in and sit in the break room until we were called. We were required to be there, but were not supposed to clock in until the restaurant got busy enough that we were needed.

That means that I spent many, many hours sitting at work not getting paid. I wasn't allowed to leave, but was not getting paid. They would get us one at a time as the business picked up and occasionally would send someone home after sitting for a few hours. As a teenager, I was happy to go home and not have to work, but hadn't considered that they were demanding my presence, which means they should have been paying me. Years later, I received a check as a result of a class action lawsuit against them because of this illegal practice.

A few years later, I worked the midnight shift at a gas station. I was there by myself and was given a list of things to do every night. Besides this list, I had to take care of customers, watch the pumps to make sure no one drove off, keep the trash taken care of and keep the coffee pots full. Since the station was right off the interstate, there were a lot of customers. I got chewed out every morning when the manager came in and found that I had not completed the list.

I couldn't get him to understand that it was not possible. One of the tasks was to clean the pumps. The way he wanted them cleaned would require about three hours to do them all. That job alone made the list impossible to fulfill. There was about twenty items on the list and three of them were large jobs like the pumps. I honestly could not have completed that list even if I didn't have to worry about customers.

Adults know better and do not normally get taken advantage of in these ways. So when my kids entered the workforce, I tried to keep an eye out to make sure those things did not happen to them. Arby's seems to be a good place to work for a teen and I don't think I have much to worry about. She just needs to learn to deal with people.

Now if I could just get her to bring home roast beef sandwiches like her brother used to.

Fortune Cookie #3 - New Experiences Aren't Always Good

I can definitely tell that summer is here. I sat down to post a blog and realized it has been six days since my last post. My life is much busier in the summer time. I will have to work harder to make sure I keep the posts coming.

In my previous post, my van had broken down in Elkville while out with Red of Doesn't Speak Klingon. It sat in a mechanic's parking lot until Monday morning and was ready to be picked up by that afternoon. Adam of The Train's Whistle gave my daughter and myself a ride back to my vehicle. All is well with the van now.

Since we had to retrieve the van from an area that is near larger cities than where we live, my daughter wanted to take this opportunity to go shopping.

I HATE SHOPPING!!!

I can do it for about half an hour. I might even last an hour on a good day, but then my mind starts to turn toward violent thoughts and I want some ice cream.

However, I did not resist this time. Kirsten was leaving on a mission trip in a few days to Puerto Rico and still needed a few things, so I gritted my teeth and we headed for the mall. Kirsten knows how much I hate this activity and typically encourage her to make these trips with her mother, but this was a unique situation that landed me in the middle of it. She worked quickly to find the items she needed and finished in less than 20 minutes with visits to only two stores. She's such a good girl.

With our shopping done and a long drive ahead of us, we decided to find a place to eat. I suggested we find a buffet and Kirsten hungrily agreed. Within a few blocks, we hit the jackpot.

A SUPER BUFFET!!!

I had never been to a super buffet! Would the food have extra taste? Would the portions be bigger? Would we be waited on by ninjas and samurais? Would consuming the food increase my abilities in martial arts? Who knows. We had to go there and experience this.

It looked normal on the inside. It seemed to have a little more variety than most regular buffets. They had fried squid; not just the small calamari rings, but the entire tentacle. I couldn't wait to dive in. I filled my first plate and started eating. Despite the large variety, the food was bland. Everything tasted the same. No flavor. I tried different sauces and spices and just couldn't fix it. I was very disappointed. Add this disappointment to the fact that we never saw our waitress again meaning our drinks were empty most of the time and I was not impressed.

Kirsten picked through her food and made the same complaint. She didn't like the place either. At ten dollars a plate, we still ate, but were sure we would not be recommending this place to anyone else. We asked for our check and it was brought with the standard fortune cookies. My 'fortune' said this:

This could not be further from the truth. I do NOT like competing, watching or even acknowledging most sports. I even wrote about my disdain for sports. Not only was my 'fortune' cookie way off base, it wasn't even a fortune. It just made a generalized statement that may or may not be true depending on the person who gets it. What is going on in China? Are they even trying any more? And what is with the 'have a nice day' smiley faces? It doesn't exactly have a Chinese feel to it. I was tempted to walk in the kitchen to see if it was staffed by a bunch of Mexican migrant workers.

I should have known better. When it comes to the Chinese buffet, I need to stick with CHINA BUFFET #6 in my hometown. The food is excellent. The staff is always available and very friendly AND The fortunes are much better. Here is the last one I received from #6.

While this may technically not be a fortune, it is a sound piece of advice. Plus, anyone who spends time with me will quickly learn that this is a motto that I can get behind and tend to live by. I love a good adventure and look to have one every day. I thought I was embarking on a culinary adventure when I entered the doors of the so-called 'super buffet', but am ashamed to admit that I was duped by the false claims on their sign.

#6, you have made an already loyal customer even more devoted. Save me a seat.

Fortune Cookie #2

Last week, Adam and I got to eat at my favorite restaurant in Mt. Vernon China Buffet #6. The last time I was here there was some confusion about why it was called #6. Of the few employees that spoke English, none of them knew the reason. On this visit, I got my answer.

The owner opened 5 other restaurants before he opened this one.

I know. Boring. I was hoping it was something more interesting, like:

• It was the sixth attempt at passing health code regulations and this was the first one to succeed.
• The owner kept opening restaurants to give to his homely daughters that would never find husbands and this was for daughter number six.
• The previous five restaurants had been destroyed by ninjas to avenge the theft of a General Tsao chicken recipe.
• Six Buddhist monks are sworn to protect against the Mongols now that the restaurant has installed a Mongolian barbecue. The descendants of Genghis Khan are not happy.

Adam convinced her to pose for a picture.
I don't think she ever really understood
what he wanted.

We were served by our favorite waitress. I don't know her name, because I am given a different answer every time I ask her. I don't think she speaks English. She understands it well enough to take our order, but even then it is very limited. Luckily, it's a buffet place and she really only needs to know what you want to drink.

Waitress: What to drink?

Adam: Mountain Dew.

Waitress (to me): You?

Me: What do you have?

Waitress: You want soda?

Me: I quit drinking soda. What do you have?

Waitress: Sorry. Say again?

Me: What do you have?

Waitress: Drink. You want what?

Me: Do you have a menu?

Waitress: Mountain Dew

Me: No, no. Menu

Waitress: OK (walks away)

On her return she brings Adam's his Mountain Dew and I get a Pepsi. It may not have been what I ordered, but I guarantee she will never let it go empty. She keeps it full. She is a very good waitress, even if she does not speak the language of her customers.

The end of the meal comes and we receive our fortune cookies. I pull mine out and it says:

That's great. Everyone wants good luck and the Chinese are telling me that it is going to happen. They are also saying that it is going to happen soon. In the spring. The first day of spring was less than 6 weeks ago. The middle of June will see the end of spring, so my good luck is about to happen quickly.

Am I going to win the lottery? Probably not, since I don't play the lottery. Is a rich relative going to die and leave me their fortune. No, none of my family has any real money. Is my blog going to explode with growth, get a million new followers, be discovered by a world renowned literary agent and I get buckets of cash thrown at me? It could happen.

I carried this fortune in my wallet to keep it in mind and not take any little blessings for granted. Here is what has happened since I received this fortune.

• I ended up in the emergency room for my shoulder pain again. BAD LUCK. However, this visit led to a discovery of the issue causing these pains. I have started treatment to prevent further injury. GOOD LUCK.
• Reaching the end of the semester in graduate school, I have a 4.0 average. GOOD LUCK...and hard work on my part. I am only giving luck so much credit.
• This week I was offered a position as office manager of a new business opening in town this summer. I accepted the job. GOOD LUCK.
• Regular followers of my blog know that I have been talking to Red for the last few months. A few days ago, she moved. This move brought her 750 miles closer than she was before. GOOD LUCK.

Since all these things happened in the spring, I will consider this fortune to be accurate. Of course, the spring is not over. I even spoke to Red's father briefly on the phone yesterday and he did not threaten me with any type of physical violence.

It has been a good spring and I anticipate it to be followed up by a great summer. Part of the great summer will involve more trips to the China Buffet #6...maybe I can bring Red there sometime. 

Fortune Cookie #1 - Lesson in Patience

Kirsten and I went to eat at our favorite restaurant in town yesterday China Buffet #6. I have no idea why it is number six. I have never seen or heard of China Buffet 1 through 5. Maybe the first five failed and #6 is the first one to succeed. I have no idea, but it is the best Chinese place around. I love Chinese food.

Despite the absence of raw fish,
this is still sushi

Kirsten is not normally available for lunch, but the high school got out early. It was for this same reason there were several teenagers in the restaurant as well. Throughout the meal, I kept laughing at the kids next to us. Kirsten couldn't figure out what I thought was so funny. The table had seven students, including two Asians, who were lecturing the others on how to properly use chopsticks, correcting them about what sushi is (a style of food preparation and NOT raw fish), and explaining the difference between sushi and sashimi.

The entire group was very animated and debated extensively about any topic that was discussed. I was not making fun of them. I found them to be very entertaining and enjoyed listening to their banter, especially when it got ridiculous. My daughter begged, "Dad, don't laugh at them. They can't help it. They're theater kids." Well, that did explain a lot, but they were still fun to watch.

We finish our meal and the fortune cookies arrived with our bill. I crack mine open and read this message.

What?!? No, it doesn't.

For the moment let's ignore the fact that most fortune cookies do not contain fortunes. Lately, they contain little pieces of supposed wisdom or advice. False advertising.

That being said, this 'fortune' is wrong. Patience does not produce immediate results. Certainly not infinite patience. The only reason you would ever need infinite patience is because your results are far from being immediate. If I am getting immediate results, I don't need patience at all.

When I go to the DMV, I know that I will be there for a long period of time. That's why I always bring a good book and a sleeping bag. I am very patient because I know it is to be expected. I don't get upset and I don't complain. However, that attitude does not get me quicker results and it is nowhere near immediate.

Patience has nothing to do with getting results. In fact, sometimes being a little impatient will result in getting your way a little bit faster. It's amazing how many businesses will work faster to get you out of their establishment when you start making a scene because you have been there long enough that your mail is now coming to their waiting room.

Kirsten tells me that I am looking at it the wrong way. The immediate result is not necessarily the completion of the task you are waiting for. "Kirsten, that's stupid." She then tried to re-explain, but the results of her argument were not coming fast enough. My being patient was not helping. Once again, proving my point.  

"Dad, you are just wrong."

"We will see about that."

I got up and (much to my daughter's dismay) had a seat at the table of the theater kids. They halted their enlivened debate and looked at me. One of them with his hands still above his head from the point he was previously making asked, "Can we help you?" I produced the fortune, set it on the table and said, "Someone explain this to me."

One of the Asian girls immediately snatched it up. I was happy about that, since it was her people that wrote it. She proceeded to read it out loud, so they could all think about it. My daughter slid under our table.

She explained that patience will produce the immediate result of inner peace, which leads to less stress and better relations with your fellow man. My daughter yells from under her table, "That's what I said."

"SHUT UP! YOU DID NOT!"

I took the fortune from her and handed it to the guy sitting to her left. She huffed, "Apparently, he wanted a man's perspective." I politely corrected her. "Sorry, no. It's not because he's a man. It's because he's American." I will not be called sexist.

He then said that patience will make your life better.

Well, maybe....eventually.

I told the table they were wrong and needed to stay in school. One of the girls shot back, "Maybe you shouldn't have asked us then." However, one of the guys (the most strangely dressed one), came to my defense and said, "Wait, I see what he's saying. Anticipated results should pertain to the item...OW!!!"

The Asian girl next to him stabbed him in the arm with her chopsticks. The table then erupted into a heated argument about who was right. Four taking the original position and three who sided with me. However, since I was now being ignored and they were busy insulting each others' intelligence, it was time for us to leave.

I love that restaurant.

Wrong again! These numbers did not win.

The Pepsi Challenge to Get It Right

I have been doing something new to save money lately. It’s actually quite simple. I stopped going out to eat. I started seeing the difference in my wallet almost immediately. Before, when I received my paycheck, I would pay my bills for that pay period, throw some in the savings account, and then the rest slowly got chipped away buying gas and Big Macs. I began to realize how much of my money was being siphoned out by my frequent trips to restaurants and made the decision to stop. The only time my daughter and I have eaten out in the last six weeks has been when we are traveling.

On a recent trip out of town, we made a stop at Burger King for breakfast since we were on the road and did not have the option of running home to eat. I made my order of hash rounds, a breakfast sandwich, and small drink and was then thrown off guard by the worker asking me what kind of drink. The question confused me for a moment. I realize it was a very simple question, but it had been a few years since that question was a part of the ordering routine. Fast food restaurants just give you the cup now so you can go fill the drink for yourself. Rarely, do they fill it for you anymore.

After feeling foolish for being thrown by the question, I ordered a Pepsi. We got our tray and sat down to relax before getting back on the road. I started on my croissan'wich (I always get the sausage) and took a big gulp of my soda. I almost spit it back out. Something was wrong with it. I couldn’t place it, but it didn’t taste right. Kirsten always orders water, so I asked her to taste it. She said something was off as well. So, I took it back to the counter.

I told the girl something was wrong with my Pepsi, so she made another one. I tried it as soon as she handed it to me, but it still had the same problem. She yelled back to the manager, “Dan, there is something wrong with our Coke machine.” That’s when I realized the problem. I quickly stopped her so she would not get the manger since there was nothing wrong with the soda.

I explained to her the problem was that I had ordered a Pepsi and she gave me a Coke. She defended herself, saying, “We don’t have Pepsi here. We have Coke.” I told her that I understood and apologized for not looking to see what they had before I ordered, but advised her that in the future, to prevent confusion, if someone orders something that is not on the menu, she should tell them and not just substitute something else. She huffed and told me, “Pepsi and Coke are the same thing!” I tried to get her to understand that if they were the same thing, then I would not have been able to tell the difference when I took a drink, however, I think most of her brain power was being used on chewing her gum.

Who drinks this?

Whether a restaurant has Coke products or Pepsi products is determined by a number of factors, but they are not interchangeable. I, personally, am a Mt. Dew fiend and I know many people who are, but I don’t see people running around drinking Mello Yello, which is Coke’s counterpart, because they aren’t even remotely the same. I like Pepsi better than Coke and I highly prefer Mt. Dew to Mellow Yello. However, the Coca-Cola brand wins out on the Dr. Pepper/Mr. Pibb comparison. I like both, but Mr. Pibb is a little better. I will drink a Sprite rather than a 7-UP, but would prefer to not have to drink either.

When I order a Pepsi, I am not asking for whatever cola drink may be behind the counter. I am asking for a Pepsi. I have had many servers say, “We don’t have Pepsi. Is Coke okay?” I love that question. It means the worker has enough respect for the customer to give them the option. If the establishment doesn’t have that brand, just let me know and I will be happy to choose something else, but do not give me something I didn’t order.

Most of the time, I remember this when I go into a restaurant and I ask if they have Coke or Pepsi, but sometimes I forget. A good employee will make the distinction. Unfortunately, this does not just happen with sodas. A few years ago, I ordered a Frisco breakfast sandwich at Hardee’s. The Frisco is ham with egg and cheese on grilled sourdough. The grilled sourdough is what sets this meal apart from the others. Upon arriving at my table and opening the wrapper, I noticed that the bread did not have the usual golden brown color. It was white.

Notice the beautiful color

I took it back to the counter where the manager explained to me that the grill was broken, so they had been toasting the bread instead of grilling it. I was amazed that the manager could not understand why I wanted my money back. This was not what I had ordered. There is a difference. The menu even has a picture of the sandwich, which states ‘grilled sourdough.” A grilled cheese sandwich is much better then toasting some bread and then putting cheese on it. I understand things happen. The grill was broken and they were trying to get it fixed, but they knew that when I ordered my sandwich. How hard would it have been to mention, “Oh, just so you know, our grill is broken. We can't grill the sourdough right now. Would it be alright if it was toasted?” Then I could decide and there would be no problems, but don’t take my money and then switch my order to something you hope will be acceptable.

These substitutions are even harder to forgive in nicer restaurants where they should know the difference between ‘butter OR margarine’, ‘mayonnaise OR salad dressing (Miracle Whip)’, and ‘sweet tea OR unsweetened tea that you can put sugar in yourself.’ They are not the same.

I decided to stop eating out for purely financial reasons, but it does my blood pressure good to not have to put up with these preventable mishaps every time I walk into a restaurant. Plus, at home, I get what I want. My sandwiches get grilled when I want grilled, toasted when I want toasted, my eggs are always the way I like them, and no one is throwing a lemon slice in my tea that I didn’t ask for.

Would You Like Fries With That?

I shocked my daughter on Tuesday by doing something I never do.  We were headed home from Wal-Mart and Kirsten decided she wanted a sweet tea from McDonald’s.  She had a dollar and did not want the tea I had brewed at home.  I pulled into the parking lot so she could run inside and she asked if we could go through the drive thru.  It was about 95 degrees and she didn't want to get out of the car.

I still don't know why, but I agreed.  This was the shocking part.  I don't do drive thrus.  I hate going through the drive thru.  Joe Pesci summed it up best in the movie ’Lethal Weapon 2’ as the character Leo Getz.  He had some very strong feelings about drive thrus that I'm not going to repeat here.  He uses rather colorful language, but captures the essence of how I feel about them.  If you've seen the movie, you know what I am talking about.  If you haven't, I recommend it.  It stars Danny Glover and Mel Gibson before his drunk-driving, Jew-bashing days.

I have worked in fast food and know from first-hand experience that the drive thru is different even from the other side of the window.  There is an extreme pressure to get those orders out within a certain amount of time.  At our local McDonald’s, you can see the timer that is over the drive thru window from the counter.  One website I checked stated that their McDonald’s has 2 minutes and 30 seconds to get a customer their order.  This timer starts the moment they pull up to the menu.

The worker is not allowed any leniency for the amount of time it took the person to order, the parent who is still trying to find out from their kids what they want, or the customer that is digging around in his car for loose change after he pulls up to the window.  They have two and a half minutes starting from the time they first pull up to the menu and ending when they pull away from the window with a full order.  If they don't clear the window fast enough, the stats for the shift are unacceptable and the employees get into trouble.  I've heard of many ways to cheat this timer.  Having a person pull forward has several advantages.  It allows the customer behind you to be served while waiting for your order, but also stops the timer for your order.  A Burger King in New York asks its customers to pull forward about ten feet after approaching the window and then back up again.  This stops the timer and gives them better times.

It gets a little ridiculous at times for these employees who are trying so hard to meet their times that the satisfaction of the customer is often overlooked.  I'm not blaming the employees.  If you happen to work in a fast-food restaurant, please don't send me angry emails, I recognize that this is not your fault.  I blame the corporate system that instituted these practices.  On numerous occasions, I've stood in line at Taco Bell, waiting for my nacho cheese chalupa, and watched eight cars get their orders before me.  I have no idea why the drive thru is given such a priority, but they must have their reasons.  However, ninety percent of the time, if my order is wrong, it has been when I've gone through the drive thru.

I often get stuck behind these people.

I understand that people are human and mistakes will happen, but I am convinced that there is some mandate of the universe that states when Brett Minor is in a drive thru, Murphy’s Law must be observed.

Some errors can be explained with simple logic.  While waiting inside the restaurant, if you order 4 sandwiches with fries and drinks and one of the fries is missing when they slide you the tray, it can be seen immediately.  Before walking away, simply state that you are missing a fry.  They quickly apologize and throw the extra fry on the tray.  Problem solved and forgotten about before you make it to the table.  At the drive thru, however, the food is given to you in a bag.  You won't notice unless you purposefully check, and even then it's not always that easy to dig around in there for accuracy.  However, this must be done BEFORE pulling away from the window.  Even if you pull away but catch it before exiting the parking lot, you must now go inside to have it corrected, which defeats the entire purpose of using the drive thru to begin with.  On the other hand, not checking leads to not knowing about it until you are at least a few blocks away or even already at home.  What are the chances that you are going back for that missing cheeseburger? 

It's even more difficult to check for accuracy on special orders.  When I worked drive thru at Hardee’s, it was not uncommon to get orders for unsalted fries, a plain cheeseburger, raw cookies, extra or no ice, or mayo instead of mustard.  Checking the bag for accuracy on these types of orders while sitting in the drive thru is nearly impossible.  If there are eight burgers, but one is supposed to have extra pickles, you have to unwrap each one to find it.  It's not worth the hassle, just go inside.

Throw on top of these issues the fact that the employees are very pressed for time and the accuracy rates are naturally going to fall.  It can't be helped.  I once received a snack wrap and salad when I had ordered a Quarter Pounder and fries.  I'd been given someone else’s order.  Since I was in a hurry, I did not get into the bag until I reached my destination.  This is why you must check your order before leaving.

Despite all the procedures in place to assure a fast drive thru experience, it never seems to work that way for me.  One of the advantages to going inside is when a particular order is finished they can hand it to whatever customer ordered it.  However, the cars in the drive thru are approaching the window in order.  The occasional person is pulled forward to serve the one behind them, but in general you are the mercy of the orders that were placed before yours.  This was the situation I found myself in on Tuesday.

All we had ordered was a sweet tea, but there were five cars ahead of us, including the one who went screeching across the parking lot and whipped in front of our vehicle.  I ordered her tea and then continued to sit in front of the menu without moving for another two minutes.  Knowing that it only takes about thirty seconds to pour the tea and put a lid on it, the window appeared to be a mile away.  We soon began to have an additional problem.  My van doesn't have air conditioning, which is not normally a problem when we are moving, but sitting in a drive thru on a 95 degree day without a/c is not my idea of fun.  Add to that the fact that my van begins to overheat when it idles and my patience was wearing thin very quickly.

The menu to window time was not going to be anywhere near two and a half minutes, plus it took over five minutes to even get to the menu.  I reminded Kirsten that the reason we were in this predicament was because she thought it was too hot to get out of the van.  After several more minutes, we made it to the first window.  Our local McDonald’s has two windows.  The first window is to pay and the second is to receive your food.  I gave the girl in the window her dollar and continued to sit there for another 3 minutes, not moving from the window.  I was tempted to walk inside and just ask for my tea since it had probably already been poured and was sitting on a counter.  Unfortunately, I was wedged between two cars and was too close to the building to open my door.  The exhaust from the other vehicles was making me light headed and I was not sure if I could hold myself upright if I did get out.

I laid my head back on the seat rest and tried to concentrate my thoughts away from the sweat dripping into my eyes.  I drifted off for a moment and was startled awake by a honking horn.  I was excited to see that the car in front of us had moved up another car length, but after wiping my forehead on my quickly dampening shirt, I realized it was only a mirage.  Kirsten had grown eerily quiet and I tried to reassure her that we were not going to die here, but my tongue had begun to swell and the lack of moisture in my mouth made it impossible to speak.  Certain I was entering the early stages of heat stroke, I collapsed forward onto my steering wheel.  The surface temperature quickly causing second degree burns jolted me back to reality.

I heard a slight tapping to my left and turned to see the most beautiful sight.  An angel was looking out the drive thru window with a sweet tea in her hand.  She said, “I figured I could just grab this for you so you wouldn’t have to wait for the next window.”  I began to cry and I kissed her.  She had saved us.  I thanked her again and we drove off singing praises to this merciful woman.  It warmed my heart to know that there are still decent people in the world, but my loathing for drive thru lanes is stronger than ever.