notes on a [bacon] scandal

I’ve been doing a lot of traveling for work for the past few months and frankly, it makes me tired thinking about it so I haven’t even gotten around to writing about it.

Unfortunately, there are just too many quick little nuggets of weird that I’ve unearthed to not take at least a half-hearted effort to share. So here I go. I’m going to type until I get tired. Which might be soon, don’t hold yer breaths.

  • A woman eating from a quart-sized plastic baggie of hard-boiled eggs. When I think “airport snack,” I generally think “granola bar.” Not this dame. Just living her best, breakfast buffet life right there at gate C2.
  • A man loudly complaining about the lack of Pepsi products. “Everywhere around here only sells Coke. Coke is so low-class,” he snarled as I looked over and saw a Pepsi machine not 20 feet down the concourse.
  • A stand in the Denver airport selling Climax Jerky, which – I know, I know. It’s a brand name. But tell that to my brain, which lay giggling in the gutter.
  • The worker at Auntie Anne’s who asked for my order, then promptly squatted down behind the counter to look for something. I sort of peered over the counter to see if I should, like, keep talking? Because what was happening? “Go ahead!” she called up to me. “I’m listening!”
  • My very damp belongings in my checked bag. I know, right? I never really gave much thought to my suitcase not being at least kind-of waterproof. I’ll never pack important papers in there again (Luckily my work stuff was okay. With the exception of all of my Post-it note pads, which ended up in a gross, wrinkled mass in my pencil case.
  • I ate In-n-Out Burger. It was good, but my earth was not shattered. I’m not sure it was worth the 1.5 mile walk from my hotel.
  • However, the dude ahead of me in line at In-n-Out Burger paid for his double double with a 100-dollar bill. His change was something like 97 dollars.
  • I ate at the hotel restaurant for breakfast a few days in a row. Day one: as Server Assistant Bro was filling up my water, a woman on the other side of the dining room is waving her arms wildly. Server Assistant Bro and I whipped our heads around: was someone choking on their made-to-order omelet? EXCUSE ME. EXCUSE ME? SIR? OVER HERE, SIR, she shrieked. Turns out her bacon was overcooked. I know because she told him that her bacon was too crispy in the same tone of voice you’d use to tell your Cocker Spaniel to stop pissing on the ottoman.
  • If only she’d had the made-to-order omelet.
  • Last day in town: guess who busts into the restaurant and demands to speak to someone in charge! Ol’ Shrieky McWellDoneBacon! Something was remiss with her bill from… a previous day? At this point I wasn’t able to pay attention; I was too consumed with cringing and flinching each time her voice ratcheted itself up an octave of sarcasm. OH, WELL, I GUESS IT’S HARD TO ADD THINGS UP, HUH? and THIS VOUCHER SAYS FREE. WHAT DO YOU THINK FREE MEANS? DOES IT MEAN I GET CHARGED FOR JUICE AND COFFEE?
  • Few things say TURNT like Friday Night Karaoke at the Holiday Inn Bar. I fell asleep too early to witness the spectacle, but in my mind it was all I ever hoped and dreamed it would be.
  • Speaking of falling asleep early…

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