Jersey Mike

Have you noticed the shift in use of language lately?

It’s not a “used” car anymore. It’s “pre-owned”.

We decided to stay in on Saturday night after a hellishly long two weeks so a quick stop at the Blockbuster on Union Deposit Road was in order.

Browsing through the aisles, I walked past the used…er, previously-viewed DVD’s and went straight to the new release section.

Not feeling like watching anything with too much depth, we settled on Adventureland. (It’s from the same guys that did Superbad and, while it was pretty funny, it was sort of a disappointment compared to the urinating-on-oneself hilarity that was Superbad.)

ANYWAY- we get to the counter and place the selection (along with two boxes of Whoppers) on the counter and I presented the check-out guy with my card. He scanned it and with a quick beep, I immediately recognized the look on his face. He was about to inform me that I had a late charge.

But what happened next was anything but normal…instead of informing me of the late-fee on my account which stemmed from returning Beautiful Girls after eleven days instead of ten back in June, the dude behind the counter told me something completely unexpected.

In the same “okay, sir…you have a late-fee of seven dollars and thirty seven cents” tone had by most Blockbuster employees, this dude said “okay, sir…you have a restocking fee of a dollar thirty three”.

A restocking fee.

“I’m sorry…a what? A restocking fee?”

“Yes, sir…a restocking fee. From Beautiful Girls back in June”

“Well, was it late?”

“Um, yes sir. You brought it back on the eleventh day and it was due back in ten.”

“Uh, okay…so it’s a late fee.”

“No, sir. We don’t have late fees anymore. It’s a restocking fee.”

“Yeah, dude…but your “restocking fee” is charged because the movie was returned one day after the day it was due…therefore, it was late. So, it is, in fact, a late fee.”

“No. It is a restocking fee. You see, because you kept the movie a day later than you were allowed, someone out there wasn’t able to rent that movie because it wasn’t here. So when you returned it, we had to restock it on the shelf. Restocking fee.”

“Bro…if I returned this movie the day after I rented it…and it was on-time, you or you or you [there were three employees behind the counter at this point] would have to take that movie from the return bin and place it back on the shelf where it belongs. “Comedy”, in with the “B’s” somewhere after Back To The Future and before Boogie Nights. And you wouldn’t charge me a restocking fee then, would you?”

“No, because it would have been on time.”

“HA! So it IS a late fee!!”

“No, sir…it’s a restocking fee.”

“ARRRRRRRR!!!”

At this point, my girlfriend was practically kicking me in the shin (her way of telling me to “drop it, already!”).

Look…this is my point. We’ve progressed and kept time over two thousand years.

I can watch porn on my iPhone in my pocket.

The toll lanes are automated with EZ Pass.

We put a man on the moon.

And have made discoveries and advances far beyond anything our forefathers ever could have dreamed up.

So why do we make it so difficult to communicate with one-another these days?

Say it like it is, Blockbuster…it’s a fucking late fee.

Does it have to be this difficult?

1. Drive worse than you normally would as people have grown to expect it.

2. At any sign of accumulation, cancel ALL schools and government employee schedules for the day.

3. If you work in the news industry, run misleading headlines and stories alluding to the notion that it’s far worse outside than it actually is.

4. By no means and under no circumstance should you attempt to clear the sidewalk in front of your home. Especially if you’re a renter or Section 8 Recipient.

5. Do not expect to Harrisburg City to deploy resources to clear the streets. Canceling everything is cheaper. (Submitted by Rusty)

6. If you are still one of the unlucky ones whose job did not cancel work for the day, today is your day to make a lame excuse to your boss about why you were late/have to leave early.

7. Go to the nearest Giant/Weis/Wegmans and purchase more milk, eggs and butter than you can ever possibly eat or need in a three or four day period.

8. Regardless of how beautiful the snowfall looks, feel free to whine, bitch and complain to anyone who will listen about how much you can’t stand the snow.

9. If someone is complaining to you about how much they don’t like the snow (as in #7) you have a full 24 hour pass to tell that person how much you don’t like them. If they get offended, go outside, make a snowball and throw it at them.

10. By no means should you attempt to help the elderly or disabled.

11. Take those plastic chairs from your porch/patio/backyard and place them in the parking spot in front of your house- letting the world know: “These are MY chairs and this is MY spot, dammit!” Even though you probably only get a spot right in front of your house either once a week or you’re unemployed and never leave the house anyway. (Suggested by reader Spyder)

And final Rule for When It Snows in Central PA-

12. Everybody, FREAK OUT!

My little sister is a cheerleader.

(You, in the back…shut up.)

Anyway, she’s a cheerleader. And is a senior in high school.

And the high school cheerleaders/football players have a bunch of goofy but old and unquestioned traditions they play out year after year.

I was never a football player or a cheerleader so I don’t really understand the value or reasoning behind much of this behavior- but it’s all about tradition and tradition makes it okay…okay?

ANYWAY- Thanksgiving day is the “big game” between my hometown and the “rival” town next door. (Again- “rivalry” is more of a traditional term. There are no Jets vs. Sharks knife fights.)

So the night before the “big game”, the cheerleaders bust out their best arts and crafts and proceed to decorate the homes of the starting-team football players. By “decorate”, I mean they make signs on poster board that say things like “Go, Fight, Win!” and “This is OUR house, baby!” (whatever that means) and hang them on the houses of the players. It’s goofy, but the kids like it. So that’s fine.

ANYWAY- the other side of that tradition is for the cheerleaders. The freshman cheerleaders do the same thing for the departing senior cheerleaders. They each pick one cheerleaders house and “decorate” it with signs encouraging them to…um…cheer their hearts out.

If you’re a semi-regular reader of this site and the comments associated with each post, you’ll occasionally see a comment from someone who signs off as “your sister” (it’s my sister). Most of the comments made here by my sister are riddled with grammatical and spelling errors and I oftentimes call her on it. Not because I’m being mean, but because it’s a pet peeve of mine. I feel that if one is going to take the time to express oneself in a public setting, then one better know how to spell correctly.

So she hasn’t commented here much lately.

And I really thought that she was the only seventeen year old with horrible spelling and grammar skills. But apparently, the class of 2012- the freshmen in High School- are just as bad.

My hometown is called Hasbrouck Heights.

The kids call it “Heights”.

But this is how the girl who decorated my parents house for my sister spells it:

It’s going to be one of two things tonight-

There are either going to be a whole lot of pissed of white people or there are going to be a whole lot of pissed off black people.

Plain and fucking simple.

This is going to be one of either the most incredibly exciting and unpredictable days in most of our lifetimes- or, it’s going to be incredibly underwhelming.

My money’s on the first option.

Blah, blah, blah…get out and vote.

I’m SO ready for Wednesday morning.

And if you’re looking to gather in a place to celebrate (or mourn) tonight- we’re having a party at ABC. Soulgrass Freedom Junction and Brooks West are playing music- doing interlocking sets with MSNBC ont the big-screen and C-Span on the smaller TV’s.

Hang on tight, America. It’s gonna be one helluva week.

Ganked this from the PennLive forums- all due credit goes to the one and only Jason Smith-

Middle class: That over-taxed, under-valued group of people pandered to by politicians as the recipients of government bounty, paid for by the “rich.” Instead of said bounty, they receive a tax increase, blamed on the Rich. See also: Poor.

Rich: That over-taxed, under-valued group of people attacked by politicians as the cause of all the problems the politicians created. Government takes $10 from them and gives back $1, says it is TWICE what was given back to the guy who paid $2 and got back 50�. Confiscate the dollar.

Poor: See also Middle Class.

Politicians: Rich people who pretend they are Middle Class.

Obama: Not anything they say he is and everything you hope he might be.

McCain: Everything they say he is and worse.

Democracy: That antiquated notion that people can rule themselves without the careful oversight of dictator, king, or Congressional sub-sub-sub committee. Their guns were seen as unnecessary as no further revolutions would be required.

Steve Reed: A nocturnal bug-eyed creature, smelling faintly of nicotine, known for collecting artifacts on the public dime. Also collects Vampire Hunting Kits, medieval chain mail, tortilla machines, and subscriptions to Rodeo News. Supports Hillary for her experience and Obama for his inexperience. See also: Provincial Bureaucratic Boss.

America: See Rome. The endish bit, when they ran out of money to pay the barbarian hordes.