IOC BID RHETORIC SHOWCASE!

London: We're united as a country over our love for sport, and our vision is to help young people get involved in sport and improve their lives.

Paris: Hey! You can trust us! The city of Paris and the nation of France! Seriously! Okay?

New York: 9/11 9/11 9/11 9/11 9/11 9/11 9/11 8/11 WAIT I MEANT 9/11

And that's the news! Now back to the Missing White Girl Network.

The Dunkin Donuts on Summer Street is hopeless

ME: I would like a Turbo Ice¹ Coffee, please.
COUNTERPERSON: Milk and sugar?
ME: Yes.
COUNTERPERSON: Here.
ME: Thank you. Sip, sip, sip.
COFFEE: HELLO I TASTE LIKE BLUEBERRIES
ME: This is disgusting.
COFFEE: TAKE PITY ON MY PATHETIC EXISTENCE, I DID NOT ASK MY CREATOR TO TASTE LIKE BLUEBERRIES
ME: Hello? I'm sorry, I wanted a Turbo Ice, and this tastes like blueberries.
COUNTERPERSON, UNHAPPY THAT HER PEACEFUL REVERIE HAS BEEN BROKEN BY YET ANOTHER CUSTOMER: You wanted blueberry?
ME: No, I don't want blueberry, I wanted a Turbo Ice. The one with the espresso in it.
COUNTERPERSON, WHO HAS EVERY RIGHT TO DOUBT A CUSTOMER'S CONCERN OVER THE BEVERAGE THEY RECEIVED BECAUSE EVERYBODY IN THE HUMAN RACE ARE LIARS WHO EXIST SOLELY TO MAKE YOUR LIFE ANNOYING: Sniff, sniff. There's no blueberry in here.
ME: Trust me, there's blueberry in it.
COUNTERPERSON, BURDENED BY THE TERRIBLE IMPOSITION PLACED UPON HER BY A CUSTOMER WHO DARES QUESTION THE FLAVOR OF HIS BEVERAGE: Sigh
ME: Could I please have the coffee with the espresso in it? No blueberry?
COUNTERPERSON, WHOSE EYES HAVE ROLLED OUT OF HER HEAD AND ARE NOW SOMEWHERE UNDER THE COUNTER, VIOLATING OSHA GUIDELINES: Milk and sugar?
ME: Yes, please.
COUNTERPERSON, WHO IS TOO BUSY DAYDREAMING ABOUT LEAVING WORK EARLY TO GO KICK PUPPIES OR SOMETHING TO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE: Here.
ME: Thank you. Sip, sip, sip.
COFFEE: WELCOME TO THE DUNKIN ISLANDS, MON
ME: This tastes like someone put suntan lotion in my coffee.
COFFEE: I AN I BE TASTIN OF COCONUT GOODNESS ALONG WIT THE CAFFEINE YOU BE CRAVIN
COUNTERPERSON, WHO OBVIOUSLY IS JUST JABBING AT RANDOM BUTTONS ON THE FLAVOR MACHINE: What now?
ME: Can I speak with your manager, please?
COUNTERPERSON, BLINKING IN DISBELIEF THAT SOMEONE MIGHT DARE TO BE DISSATISFIED WITH THE STELLAR LEVEL OF CUSTOMER SERVICE SO ADROITLY GIVEN AT THIS PARAGON OF EXCELLENCE THAT IS THE DUNKIN DONUTS ON SUMMER STREET IN BOSTON: Now why you wanna do that?!

I eventually did get my coffee. And I didn't even hear any hocking sounds from behind the flavor machine.

1. The "Turbo Ice" is the new name Dunkin Donuts has given to "an iced coffee with an espresso shot please." I dunno. Isn't it a Gatorade flavor? Might explain the incessant need to put fruit flavors in it for me.

this post is brought to you by Waiting for the Melatonin to Kick In Enterprises

You were not there this evening when I bought some used books over at Harv Square (we're on a first-name basis now; I can call it Harv and it can call me Rube.) This means you did not hear the I've Got Books song. And boy did you miss out, for the song goes like this:

Oh, I've got books
I've got books
I've got books for me to read

The best part of this song is that not only is it infinitely customizable, but you can sing it as many times as you'd like, or until they call the police on you. For instance, once you've gotten your books you can go to Pho Pasteur and get a giant bowl of delicious soup, and then you can sing

Oh, I've got pho
I've got pho
I've got pho for me to eat

There also may or may not be a dance involved. I ain't sayin.

Oh I do so love used books. Mostly because they're cheap, yes, but also because sometimes you catch tiny glimpses of the book's previous life. For example, an airline boarding pass stub fell out of this copy of A Confederacy of Dunces and I don't think it's too much of an invasion of privacy to reveal that on an August first of a bygone year, a certain Mr. Stephen R. Smith, Jr flew a 9:30 AM America West flight from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. He sat in a window seat, 8A, and it must have been a short flight because he didn't get more than a hundred pages in. (But then again, Ignatius J. Reilly is a character best experienced after lunch, so no doubt Mr. Smith had good reasons for abandoning the book as he did.)

At any rate I'm just glad the copy fell into my hands for 1/3 of its list price, giving me one out of the several reasons I had today do the "I've Got Books" song and/or dance. Tomorrow I shall impress you by namedropping another high-class piece of Pulitzer prize-winning literature, this time in the guise of clever haiku.