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Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Don't Hate Me Because...

I'm sure there are a myriad of things that I could be hated for, but being female? I didn't think that I could be hated on for that, but I have been proved wrong.

The scenario:

I'm standing on line to order my lunch. The guy in front of me orders this grilled chicken hero with assorted accoutrements. I order a grilled cheese sandwich on whole wheat. Can you explain to me why his sandwich was $ 3.00 and mine was $ 4.95? And don't give me any BS about lunch specials either; I work in SoHo, they don't believe in that around here. I don't care about the money, but when I questioned the woman, she couldn't give me a response as to why the chicken sandwich was less money than 2 slices of whole wheat slapped with a few slices of cheese.

Was the bread freshly baked with hand-ground wheat grown on premesis? NO. Was the cheese freshly made from free range cows grazing on Varick Street? NO.

Please, can someone explain this logic to me. I have no problem paying for food, provided it is warranted. A grilled cheese sandwich is not haute cuisine. There is no celebrity chef behind the scenes using rare ingredients. So why? It all comes down to penis (doesn't it always?). I don't have one, he did. Sandwich lady was all flirty flirty with him, while I got the rainy day attitude. Therefore, I will not be frequenting that lunch place any longer, which sucks because their soups are really good.


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P.S.: I am officially declaring that my hair is my #1 nemesis. After years of begging and pleading with it to work with me, I have given up. Like Milli Vanilli sang all those years ago, "Blame it on the Rain... yeah, yeah".

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