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uberreinigerWell I'm back from the eye doctor. The good news is that I have no eye diseases of any kind, it's just time for a stronger set of lenses. The bad news is, OH BOY DID THAT COST A FORTUNE! Man, I am poor now. In fact, I am no longer poor, I am now po'. That's right, I'm po'. I could no longer afford the extra "o" and the "r".
To celebrate my new poorness I stopped for lunch at Mr. Goodcents. I have to share a funny anecdote here because every Mr. Goodcents I have EVER been inside of, (including the one I briefly worked at in college,) has been Stoner Central. And I mean even worse than your typical fast food place. The manager of where I worked regularly showed up for work high as a kite and the guy who I rode with when I was first learning to be a delivery drive advised me to be sure and bring my bong to work because of all the parties I'd get invited into while delivering. ('Cause ya know, you should just assume everybody owns and uses a bong.) For the record, I never got invited into any parties, but I did pleasantly discover that girls in the college town of Manhattan, KS. regularly answer their front doors in varying stages of undress. Anyway, this place I stopped today was no different. The doofus was going trying to hand me my food and let me walk out the door without paying even though I was literally wagging a $20 bill in his face! I was honest, however. So then he rung in the wrong price, giving me my meal for two dollars cheaper than it should have been. My honesty only going so far, I took it and ran... only to discover once I got home that they had failed to put the chicken on my pasta, so I guess it all evened out in the end.
So there you have it. I am po' now, both in money and in chicken.
To celebrate my new poorness I stopped for lunch at Mr. Goodcents. I have to share a funny anecdote here because every Mr. Goodcents I have EVER been inside of, (including the one I briefly worked at in college,) has been Stoner Central. And I mean even worse than your typical fast food place. The manager of where I worked regularly showed up for work high as a kite and the guy who I rode with when I was first learning to be a delivery drive advised me to be sure and bring my bong to work because of all the parties I'd get invited into while delivering. ('Cause ya know, you should just assume everybody owns and uses a bong.) For the record, I never got invited into any parties, but I did pleasantly discover that girls in the college town of Manhattan, KS. regularly answer their front doors in varying stages of undress. Anyway, this place I stopped today was no different. The doofus was going trying to hand me my food and let me walk out the door without paying even though I was literally wagging a $20 bill in his face! I was honest, however. So then he rung in the wrong price, giving me my meal for two dollars cheaper than it should have been. My honesty only going so far, I took it and ran... only to discover once I got home that they had failed to put the chicken on my pasta, so I guess it all evened out in the end.
So there you have it. I am po' now, both in money and in chicken.
