The Driving Test

Determining if you've found a suitable mate is a daunting task. You can play mind games, fill in lengthy E-Harmony physc surveys, hire private investigators, sit with shrinks, hairdressers and friends, read book after book, or even pinch your S.O. to the verge of strangling you. In spite of their strengths, all these methods sometimes fail.

In the lovey-dovey stage of a relationship, no one has faults. But lovey-dovey only lasts for so long, and can turn to stab and burn in the blink of an eye. By that time, you're living together or married, and it's too late to just stop calling. You are forced to resort to expensive assassins, or complex "accident" schemes, with long prison sentences if things go wrong. Is there an easier, more reliable way?

Absolutely. I have no qualms going the distance for a decent person, but how can you tell? Truth serum aside, I've decided the tell all evaluator is the driving test. It may be difficult for guys to give up the wheel, but you must let her drive you around. Then observe. If she (or he) drives recklessly, they will probably be reckless with you. Road rage is a sure sign of an angry person, driving an SUV or pickup with a "King of the Road" attitude is a clear "delusions of Grandeur" indicator. Driving unaware of what's going on is a person who is disconnected from reality.

I recommend running covert video to be sure he/she is not behaving nicely when you're around. Under the illusion of anonymity, primeval behaviors manifest as people drive. A disciplined driver will adjust for weather conditions, posted speed limits, traffic, and neighbor pedestrians, while many drivers will run you down for driving the speed "limit". If you can live with your S.O. on the road, you'll be okay at home. Try it! Take notes!

Integrity

Last week while working I encountered a wasp nest in the control area of a Bohn Mac-6H condensing unit. It was a hot day, and they were very active. Given the scope of work I needed to accomplish, I made the decision to destroy them. Mass arthopodicide. I used a commercial Wasp & Hornet spray; they did not suffer long. As scouts came back to the demised nest and (understandably) harassed me, I murdered them too. I spared many other nests that day, but still found myself running around the roof chasing insects with a pressure washer wand. I'd spray them down with water, then squish them. The words "I'll execute every m-f-ing one of ya" could be heard by passers by on ground level. I abandoned civility and transformed into a barbarian arthropod murdering human.

Contrast this to my previous post where I'm conflicted by two little kids stomping an ant to death. Or the many times I "escort" a bug out of the house with a glass and magazine. I appear to have lost integrity, I'll hold to an ethic, but only when convenient. I guess it's better than having no ethical integrity at all. Maybe...

Creme Twirls

I apologize for my derelict blogging schedule. I've been busy with other "stuff". I've had brilliant words at the tip of my tongue, but swallowed them before I could write them down. This entry is the consolation prize.

I can't complain, but sometimes I still do (Joe Walsh). In the past, my local Super Duper Amazing Awesome Stop and Shop or Pee stocked a confection known as "Creme Twirls".



These are very light, sickly sweet sugary; like a sugar-heroin shot, bringing one to an immediate high after pig-slopping an entire package down your maw. I'd buy them every now and again, maybe bi-weekly. I pretend they're not bad for my diet (being so light and fluffy...)

An evil cloud hovered above my supermarket, and the creme twirls disappeared. I'd walk across the supermarket (about half a mile) to the bakery, and search for my beloved sugar fix, but they were not to be found. I eventually discovered other SDAASSP locations had them, and when I was out of town, if I was lucky enough to get to the store before closing, I'd treat myself to the Creme' Delights.

Being a creature of habit, I find it interesting how my routine constantly changes. Sometimes I get bored and change it, but changes often result from external forces. One fine day, my GF and I went to a Polish Bakery, and behold what I found!



These beauties are much different. The Creme is not a sugar-crap injection, more eggy, and the crust is crunchier (I love crunchy) with wonderful "sprinklies" on it. The conspiracy of the "Evil Empire" to deprive me of Creme' Twirls led me to luscious Polish Creme' Twirls.

I suppose I could've simply asked my SDAASSP bakery to stock them again, but it was easier to be hurt and angry and develop an "Evil Empire" conspiracy theory. Next entry, why my Supermarket stopped stocking my Planters Trail Mix, and runs out of caffeine Free Diet Coke. Inventory control and the magic of counting...

Arthropodicide

One day I was lounging and sipping my Cappuccino as two young children waited for their mother. A boy and younger girl, maybe 6 or so. We were outside on the front porch of the coffee shop. An ant scurried past them, catching the attention of the young man. He stomped upon the ant, he might have seemed a bit frightened by the creature he towered over. The ant was wounded by the impact of the sneaker stomp, and flailed wildly.

I don't remember what happened next. I'm pretty sure the ant did not retaliate against the mountain that stepped on him. No sneakers were shredded; another blow or two, at least one from an apprehensive sister who also appeared to fear the ant.

Ants are tough, so the ant did not meet his death swiftly, but lived until another feeble stomp finally did him in. I guess he exited the great stage of life to the ant afterlife, where he would presumably live on a neverending sugarcube and be greeted by a harem of ant virgins (ant hell), or if he was a good ant, a harem of ant porno queens (ant heaven).

I'm not sure why I'm affected by this. I've crushed many arthropods in my lifetime. I'm quick and merciful to be sure, but still kill them when I deem necessary. I considered the ants life precious, but did nothing to defend it. I seem conflicted by the maliciousness of seeming innocent children, and wonder if this is some reflection of their parents. Are they treacherous people? Are they so afraid they need to kill everything that threatens them? Is it better to be a killer who heals than a healer who kills?