No CornFlakies

Posted on January 28th, 2005 | by admin |

I just stubbed my toes. All but the big one. Hurt like hell too. Why is this significant? Its not, I just thought I’d share. It probably wouldn’t have happened had my tripod not been lying in the middle of the floor in my room. I’ll contemplate picking it up as I continue reading Just A Geek by Wil Wheaton. It, along with Dancing Barefoot by Wil Wheaton was my Christmas gifts from Karen, whether she knows it or not. Amazon gift certs rock.

In preparation for my companies All Hands meeting next month our newly designed website is going live this weekend. Its fun to check out archive.org and see how the site has evolved over the years.

The Yuengling run didn’t work out too well last night. I went to the store with my roommate John last night to pick up beer and TP (you know, just the essentials). Unfortunately as I stood there at the checkout, mouth watering for cool sweet Yuengling, daydreaming about that first glass, the clerk had a different idea. She decided that since my roommate was underage by a month or two, and happened to be in line with me, she wouldn’t sell me the beer.

What’s this you say? No Yuengling for me? All that effort! Walking 10 feet to the car… Driving a quarter mile to the store… Opening the cooler door and picking out the best looking 6 pack… All for nothing!

What kind of world do we live in? Not only can I not buy that savory Yuengling after midnight, or pickup Grey Goose at a convenience store, I can’t buy alcohol with a barely underage friend with me. I was completely outraged. Actually I wasn’t, just a little disappointed. So I left with 16 rolls of TP in hand, and 6 tall frosty ones sitting on the counter. I waved goodbye to the beer, knowing full well that if I tried to enter the store 5 minutes later without John I would be refused again. On that long quarter mile ride back home I contemplated this law.

When had this law gone into effect? I was told by the clerk that she couldn’t sell alcohol to someone with a minor present, yet I can remember mom purchasing a bottle of Beringer White Zinfandel with me present on numerous occasions.

Somehow I think this law is left to the clerk’s discretion.

So here I am, 11:30 the next day, still no beer, wondering how it is that yesterday my bedroom was clean and living room wasn’t, and today it’s exactly the opposite. Oh yeah, and I’m completely without cornflakies. Tomorrow is another day.