Spring Becomes Summer, All Of A Sudden

by Dick Mac

A colleague told me it was a lovely day; so at lunchtime yesterday I departed without my jacket.

The streets were teeming with people!

I walked down 53rd Street to Third Avenue and could barely make progress while wending my way through the throng of office workers.

And it was hot. I mean HOT!

I'd read a Facebook post from a friend in Boston that it had reached 95F in that city and it felt that hot in New York.

It was my lunch break and I wasn't sure what to eat. The heat killed my appetite, and as I began to perspire while walking down Third Avenue, I found myself seeking shade, and not sustenance. I turned west onto 52nd Street and was relieved to find shade; and I was shocked to see that every food outlet: the falafel truck, Chop't, Subway, Pump, and Chipotle all had long lines of people snaking out onto the sidewalk.

Well, the entire line for the falafel truck was on the sidewalk, and I had never seen that many people in line for that particular brand of street meat.

I walked up the North side of the street. I avoided Pump, because I just can't figure out what they are selling and I find it uninviting. I had a veggie burrito from Chipotle last week and wasn't in the mood for beans. Subway is out; I have to be in a bad mood to enjoy Subway. I find it tasty, but not very filling, while making me feel bloated at the same time. No way was I getting street meat from this truck. I reserve my street meat purchases for Rafiqi's at 51st and Park - the best street meat in the neighborhood.

So that left Chop't.

I have a fave sandwich at Chop't: the Rocky Mountain Cobb: lettuce, chicken, blue cheese, craisins, and walnuts, chopped up and mixed together in steakhouse blue cheese, in a wrap. Yummy!

I had not had one for almost two months. During Lent I am vegan and that excludes a Rocky Mountain Cobb for lunch. So, I got into the line out on the sidewalk and waited patiently. The line moved quickly.

Chop't is an amazing display of immigrant industriousness. Teams of three manage three stations and they whip out salads and sandwiches like nobody's business. Even the difficult customers with their special needs (only half that much cheese please, can you add sesame seeds, can I get the dressing on the side, does that cost extra, blah blah blah) can't slow this amazing production line.

As I finally entered the store, I saw it: a new item named for Barcelona FC, the Spanish soccer team that less than 24-hours earlier knocked my Arsenal out of the UEFA Champions League. I don't know when the item went up on the board, but the sign appeared new and I took it as a personal affront.

Now, I like Barcelona FC. My favorite player of all-time, Thierry Henry, plays there, as does the greatest player alive, Lionel Messi, and the best European player, Zalatan Ibrihamovic. Add Dani Alves, Puyol, and a host of other great players and it's easy for me to say that Barcelona is the best team in the world.

But a club sandwich named for them in Midtown Manhattan? Where's the Arsenal Club?

Well, I got over it right quick and in a hurry and eventually got my sandwich, along with two pieces of sea salt taffy, and made my way back to the office. The notion of a long walk interrupted by the heat.

Come to find out, NYC reached only 92F yesterday, not 95F!

Summer Overtakes Spring; Confusion Reigns

Pocket Shot

I have been in the business world, working in one ivory tower or another, for about twenty-five years. During that time many things have changed:

I am no longer allowed to smoke at my desk or in a smoking room or anywhere in the building, I cannot tell jokes lest I offend by crossing neo-conservative lines of political correctness that have taken the place of actual social change and justice, I cannot wear a suit and tie lest my slovenly colleagues shudder in fear that "casual" attire will be eliminated as a dress code if too many people dress-up, although alcohol is served in very controlled company situations there is no longer the three-martini lunch and it is unacceptable to have the smell of alcohol on your breath in the afternoon.

The list goes on and includes alleged sensitivities to groups of allegedly disenfranchised people. The lists of the disenfranchised includes conflicting, diametrically opposed concepts. Single, childless adults are disenfranchised as are married parents. Women and people of color are disenfranchised even when they are millionaires; but white men living at the poverty line are not. The young are protected and the old are protected, but the middle-aged population is pretty much fucked. White men who are homosexual enjoy more protection than their heterosexual counterparts, and the richer the white homosexual man the more protection he can afford.

Sure, I believe there are groups that need protection. People of color, women, homosexuals, the handicapped, children, and the elderly all need to be protected. A decent society protects these people.

We, however, are not a decent society and instead of providing actual protection to these groups, we have proscribed language and cultural phenomena and instead of changing we have learned to pay-off members of the protected groups who are offended by anyone at anytime.

There is no actual change, there is just proscription and pay-off. It's sort of embarrassing.

The group I think that is treated most unfairly is the active alcoholic. Alcohol, though controlled and addictive, is a legal substance that is easily obtained almost everywhere in America. Until the advent of political correctness, which (not coincidentally) coincided with the advent of neo-conservatism, an alcoholic could have a drink (or two or three) at lunch and not really suffer any consequences in the workplace as long as her work was completed. Drinking at lunch, however, is no longer acceptable in the business world and it is rare that you see martini glasses on a restaurant table during lunch.

I noticed this over the past few years as I watched the price of a business lunch remain the same even though no booze was being ordered. What has happened is that restaurants, in an effort to maintain receipts, has had to raise the price of the food to cover the loss of liquor revenue.

Unfair I say! When alcoholics were allowed free reign during lunch, the price of food in pubs and finer restaurants remained low. Now that drinking at lunch is frowned-upon, the food prices have sky-rocketed!

How can we increase drinking at lunch to reign-in rising food costs?

One company, Pocket Shot, is facilitating the consumption of alcohol by offering " . . . a brand new way to enjoy your favorite hard liquor."

Each Pocket Shot is sealed in a near unbreakable, flexible, squishable, pocket stuffable pouch making them perfect for active activities, outdoor adventures, and glass restricting venues.

Bring a nip to the office, the morning commute, the toilet, the ballpark, behind the wheel, any place where it has become difficult to bring an old-fashioned flask or half-pint bottle.

If more people start using the Pocket Shot it is possible that drinking-at-lunch might come back into vogue! If drinking-at-lunch returns, then the food prices at restaurants can stabilize and those of us who do not drink can eat far more cheaply!

C'mon folks! Drink up! Visit Pocket Shot and spend spend spend!

Dick Mac does not condone underage drinking. So don't get caught!


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