More Fun With Fast Food

Since I am a frequent fast-food buyer, I can’t help but notice the hilarious antics at local eateries.  I’ve referenced these before and can’t help but realize why so many managers want to throw their employees through a brick wall.  Take for example this gem which I witnessed firsthand at a local Dunkin’ Donuts:

On a long morning rush-hour line, I stand to place my order.  There are distinctly two lines running to handle the crowds, yet none of the lines are moving. 

Customer (entering) - Is this two lines?

Me - Yes. 

Customer stands behind other customers next to me on the right-hand side line.  I’m on the left.

Customer (agitated) - Why isn’t this thing moving??

Me - I know right?!

A group of women are placing a large order and have infiltrated both lines to do so.  After awhile, I figure it out, but wait anyway.  I have next…

The groups leave and I walk up and order a number 2.  The number two is clearly depicted as a coffee with a bagel.

Attendant - Do you want coffee with that?

Me (laughing to myself) - Yes.

Attendant - A small or a large?

Me - A large.

Attendant - Anything else?

Me - Yes.  My sister would like a plain bagel with cream cheese.

Attendant - Toasted?

Me - No.  Just a plain bagel with cream cheese, please.

Now this is where the hilarity begins.  Everyone who worked at this particular Dunkin’ Donuts were related because they all looked exactly alike.  They also had to be related because of a very distinctive behavior that they shared: looking busy without actually doing anything.  Just imagine that there are, like, 25 of them behind a ridiculously small kitchen area behind the counter.  The cramped quarters kinda made it look like an old Keystone Cops episode where all of these workers (in black and white film) engage in this art-form.  While one took orders from the Drive-Thru window, another placed a cold croissant in a microwave.  However, the microwave never gets started.  Instead, that same person who just placed the croissant in, takes it out and performs the task again and again.  Another young woman took pleasure in picking up the same napkin, placing it in its same spot while bumping into the other girls to grab a stirrer straw only to go back again and continue fussing with the napkin. 

Over and over I marvelled at how little food was getting out as these OCD rituals were being performed by the Osmonds.  Florav, my sister was easily getting impatient and kept muttering things like, “How long does it take to slap cream cheese on a plain bagel?”  This question was soon answered when she saw the attendant, whom I had just placed an order with, scurry past the group of repetitive automatons with her own magical work.  Like a time-consuming artiste, she lifted the bagel (presumed to be Florav’s) and placed it in the toaster oven and just as she was about to hit the COOK button, she recalled that the order was for an un-toasted bagel.  She did this habitually for about 5 minutes while my sister and I looked on in amazement.  The same nonsensical fluttering about occured with my “coffee” and my bagel: thankfully untoasted.  We witnessed workers picking up sugar packets and putting them down again.  We witnessed the mistique over the contraption called, The Toaster Oven.  We even saw the complete confusion of one girl who had mysteriously gotten an entire order correct for someone who didn’t exist. Yes, ladies and gentlemen…believe it or not.

Hope you enjoyed our tale.  I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t seen it firsthand.  May your food forever be fast and your employees first-rate.  Otherwise, we’re screwed America!

The Missing Ingredients

Today was the day that my sister and I had designated as “Barbecue Day”.  Thanks to the National Holiday, Memorial Day, we both had the day off and figured it’d be a great way to kickoff the summer.  It also served to introduce us to the wonderful world of planning as well as carrying newly defined traditions that started in our own backyard. 

The sunny days were our inspiration as we delved into the planning head-on with a visit to the meat-market.  We brought along our Meatopia guide , Carlos and were so happy we did because we had absolutely no idea what we were doing.  This isn’t a big mystery as it has been a family tradition to go about clueless through endless aisles saying to one another, “Do we need this?  I’m certain that we have some in the pantry.  Are you sure we don’t have this at the house?” and so on.  Back then, it was easy to set my Dad to his boiling point as all three women of the household made a decision over what condiment to purchase or which charcoal would light the best.  I often felt that my Dad would get overwhelmed as we all took turns at looking completely lost, wandering aimlessly at the 7-11 while all of the other families seemed so organized.  You see, it was also traditional for our family to plan these outings on a whim which left no time for grocery lists.  And it would never fail: there would always be something that we forgot that was so completely obvious to us once we got there.  Say, the missing charcoal fluid as we shuffled through the grocery bags disappointed at our lack of familial effort to get everything we needed because after all, we were “Right there!”. 

Florav and I had become used to the unpredictability of our family events.  For years our poor planning led to adventures such as, The Tan that Was A Burn and The Swimsuits That Never Were and Rainy Days and Picnics Always Get Us Down.  But that’s what always made my family the BEST FAMILY EVER.  Despite all of the mistakes, we always stuck it out; surprisingly resiliant to odd turn-of-events.  Sometimes, these episodes of turning-lemons-into-limonada were the stuff of legend. 

So as we scoured the meat market, buying everything at a “very good price”, we ultimately ended up with what we thought we needed, save for the ice and some C batteries for the radio.  Well, we were wrong.  Dead wrong.  The one thing that I hadn’t counted on were the matches and the charcoal lighter fluid because I thought that I had both.  This ended up putting a damper on things because we had to leave Carl there to attempt (in vain) to startup the fire with pieces of paper and a prayer.  It was obvious that the charcoal was winning.  This posed another unforseen issue: when we left, the park police have a history of bothering unsuspecting folks that have no backup.  Since Florav and I were out buying the stuff, Carl was alone and we were hoping that he wouldn’t be bothered.  Unfortunately, he was and the park police asked him to move our barbecue stuff further away (even though there was an unruly group setting up barbecue right next to our spot).  Whatever.  So Carl called us to get back as soon as possible which went easy enough.  Then, there were…

Duh, DuH, DUH!!!!!

The Children….ARGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, these can be spotted at every picnic / barbecue, tossing footballs into your food and skateboarding, flying kites and riding bikes so nearby that you could feel the wind as they race past.  That was the only downside.  And it got worse as time wore on, so we managed to hurry through cooking our eats and high-tailing it outta there as soon as the last batch of chicken was fully cooked.  Yum!

And of course, we did manage to forget some key ingredients: ketchup and mayo.  But no worries.  Turned out the food was so filling, we didn’t need it anyway.  Poor Carl did manage to get a little sun-stroke, though.  That’s never any fun.  But a good time was had by all.  And, don’t worry mom.  There’s plenty of leftovers.

 

The Sherpa

I’ve always known that I have the ability to get around…anywhere.  Although I don’t hold the best track record of late when it comes to navigational techniques in the Garden State (which I find weird, who knew?), I’m definitely confident in my skills in NYC.   If I couldn’t figure out, I would eventually.  The peninsula is a perfect cacaphony of cultures and spaces and locales vivid and rich in its complexity, but the streets are numbered, for Pete’s sake.  Oddly enough though, one needs to have the following (to navigate properly): time and money.  So my friend and colleague, Isis had invited me to go see her in the play, “A Thousand Years Waiting”.

 

Uptown, not Downtown Dummy:

The first mistake faux pas I made was going Downtown.  It’s no small matter when trying to avoid the rush-hour traffic of legend, but we managed just as fat robust girls do: we stopped at a coffee shop.  This naturally reminds me of my sister, Florav’s video which you should definitely be watching.  As we sipped our Lattes, we realized that we needed to go Uptown.  Still, I managed to get us on a downtown train again and had to once again make the switch, but thankfully, we made it to the right place.

A Thousand Years Waiting (for the use of the toilet):

Restrooms are already scarce enough as it is in good ole NYC.  Women’s restrooms are even more so.  Still, I managed to go first while Florav waited, but Florav couldn’t take it when she was bumped by two other women who saw that she was waiting, but ran in anyway.  Ah, NYC hospitality.  You snooze, you lose, son.  Or, in this case: sis. 

Now onto the Review:

OK, the beginning was slow.  But, the overall theme of female longing spanning thousands of years and beyond, did hit home.  The play follows a young woman in NYC who stumbles upon a diary in a public library of a Japanese woman who had lived 1000 years ago.   

A full production, the set consisted of a small, black coffee table and a folded dressing screen/panel.  Whomever worked on the lighting was very skilled because the lighting truly was flawless. 

The scene opens with Lady Sarashina in Kyoto who is struggling with dramatic life changes at a young age: her mother leaves her, she and her sister are moved to Kyoto to be raised by their stepmother, and her grandmother and cat die.  Despite all of the change, the diary describes the fanciful views of a child coping with these changes.  Lady Sarashina is lucky in that she does have the companionship of her sister to get through it all.  The modern woman begins to see the parallels between her own life and that of Lady Sarashina.  Both women cope by delving into fantasies and romance (namely, soap-opera vignettes called the Tales of Genji).  At the age of 22, however, it is clear that Lady Sarashina must leave behind these ideals of begin saved by a man and enter into the very serious (and daunting) world of adulthood. 

The entirety of the play is fluid moving from the childhood remembrances of Lady Sarashina who is now an old woman reflecting on her life in retrospect.  She muses over the games that she and her sister played watching the dancers dance; participating with them in a dance that both had invented to celebrate their own youth.  When the dancer of their childhood comes to life, played wonderfully by Brittany Bowchow, the audience is drawn into a commentary about youth.  I loved the simplicity of the dance. The music playing in the background was not overstated at all.  There was a great use of the space as Lady Sarashina moves her buddha figurine from one side of the sparse stage to the other, also symbolizing her new home.  There are some beautiful moments where, while under the lamplight at the foreground stage-left, Lady Sarashina makes fun of her naivete on male attention.

Now, let’s begin with the negatives (’cause there aren’t that many):

1. Lui Konno stumbled over her lines a little in the beginning and her initial performance was kind of staccato.  This didn’t help the production.  However, her perseverance to fight through her forgotten lines made up for the foible.
2. Isis King has a strong jaw and a bold, clear voice.  These were actually negatives which she needs to work on when performing.  You believed her as both the regal Lady Lavender and the nanny, but lost her as the gentlemen.  Softness is key.  
3. I didn’t like the fact that Hyojin Park didn’t play all of the male roles.  I believed her so heartily as Prince Genji, that to switch of to Isis seemed to lose the audience.  If a break was necessary for the actor, then I would’ve gone with a mask or kabucki puppet to symbolize the uncaring male courtiers who arrived to woo Lady Sarashina.
4. Isis is not a good man.  That’s a wonderful compliment if you’re not planning to be an actor.  Unfortunately, Isis has her goals.  She needs to be in touch with her masculinity.  I would’ve been satisfied with seeing Hyojin Park in all the male roles, because Hyojin did such a great job at this.  My advice?  Check out another strong-jawed female: Hilary Swank.  Just see, “Boys Don’t Cry” and you’ll know what I mean.

Now onto the great parts:

1. “Inhale, there is a pine scent deep within your soul.  When you exhale, your death.”
2. There was a great fluidity of the movement to acting to lighting and back.
3. Great use of prop: the handkerchief as both the kitten (Lady Sarashina’s pet 1000 years ago) and squirrel (modern woman in NYC)
4. Wonderful universal feminine ideas of love: When I’m not with you do I cease to exist?  Do you keep me close?
5. “I’m old at twenty” is another common thread that endeared me to the characters.  What woman hasn’t reached a plateau in her life where she asks that very question?  It is wonderful in that it poses this inquiry several times as Lady Sarashina is discovering herself and her views of the world.
6. This group of young actresses all made me feel the sadness and loneliness of loss and longing.  The progression of Lady Sarashina is subtle but thorough as she is coming to her own realizations of what details in her past to record in her diary. 
7. The incorporation of dancing was some of the most touching as I’ve seen in a long time.  The play allows you to see life through this young woman’s eyes; first as a fanciful fantasy of youth: detailing fantasies with Prince Genji and then as an insightful send-off to describe the loss of her sister.  In the beginning of the play, you are celebrating the young girlish youth.  In the end of the play, it is used as a mournful transition, the inevitable vehicle to fantasize her sister’s death. 

Overall, my sister and I couldn’t help but cry our eyes out.  This coming-of-age story was much more than just a tale.  It implies reincarnation and the universality of feminine themes that cross a thousand years still poignant and true.  It is the reason why Shakespeare is still relevant.  It is the tie that binds us to one another no matter where we came from.  There is a sadness in all of us who have “wanted and waited” a decade, an age, a millenia for a play to be true and honest.  That’s what’s so great about watching a play.  As Shakespeare once wrote: “The play’s the thing wherein I’ll catch the conscience–”  It is an exchange.  As a viewer, we want to connect and see our lives reflected, nay re-enacted in such a way that it seems satisfying that we spent a better part of the evening trying to get there; navigating through the snake-like subways.  All of it revealed to us in the dark.  Our darkest secrets revealed.  And applauded.