#43 – The Delivery Guy Calling

You know what I love? I’ll tell you.

I love how every time you call a Chinese or pizza place, they all give the same time frame when it comes to delivery time.

“That’ll be 30-45 minutes.”

We both know that time limit has nothing to do with how long it will actually take, it’s just something they’re programmed to say. In fact, I’m still unsure if it’s even a human saying that. It may be an automated message, we’ll never know.

Point is, after you place you’re order, your hungry desires exist in the ether, floating along until some stranger with your phone number and address totally makes your night.

The longer the wait, the better the feeling. How many times have you had this thought, just prior to the call… “I’m going to call [the restaurant]! What is taking so long! Maybe they can let me know what the gosh darn hold up has been!”*

Then, of course, the call comes and it’s like you’ve never A) received a phone call or B) eaten anything in your life. It’s pure bliss, and you’ve yet to even eat a thing.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?:¬†Ordering Chinese food, asking for Chili oil, having them yes you to death that it’ll be in the order and it isn’t. And the guy is gone. And your night is ruined.

*Side bar: I should note here, there’s few things more ridiculous than the above thought, which I have had many times. What on Earth are the people at the restaurant going to say, aside from “Yes, he’ll be right there” or “We’re on our way”. It’s a fruitless exercise on both sides.

#221 – Seeing a Baseball Field For The First TIme

I suppose this feeling could be sub-divided in to “Ever” and “That Season”, but still, the fact remains that there’s something breathtaking about that first glimpse of wide-open, well-manicured green expanses at any of the 30 different major league ballparks across the country*.

Recently, I lamented to a friend that this feeling will slowly change for the young baseball fan. When I was a kid and got to go to my first game (Yankee Stadium), the concept of open concourses wasn’t really developed yet. When you walked into a baseball stadium, you couldn’t really see the field until you go through the narrow walkway from the concourse.

While there’s no denying the beauty of some of these new ballparks and the obvious advantages of open concourses (better views, easier to keep up on the game when going to get food/go to the bathroom, etc), there is something to that first reveal that the closed concourse provided. Sadly, young kids won’t be able to experience that any longer.

It may sound apocryphal, but I really do remember being totally wowed by how green and how enormous the outfield was at Yankee Stadium. As a little kid, you went from staring at tons of drab looking concrete in the middle of the Bronx to this gorgeous green field in a slow reveal. It was something.

Either way, as we baseball fans across the nation head to our first games of the year this month and beyond, there’s at least this feeling to look forward to, even if your team fucking stinks.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Your team being out of the game before you even sit down.

*Places like Toronto probably don’t count. I can’t imagine a kid gets really amped out of seeing AstroTurf, or whatever they’re calling it nowadays.

#185 – Daydreaming How You’d Get Out of A Situation if You Were James Bond

This one almost exclusively, I’d have to imagine, is a male-centric feeling. Maybe I’m just not in touch with the female perspective enough, but I just get the sense that more men are doing this sort of daydreaming.

Either way, if you’re not sure what I’m talking about, here’s an example…

I was driving home a few days ago and I got behind a big, flat bed truck carrying these really long poles. Of course, the poles (I’d guess they were about 20 feet long?) were securely strapped in… But what if one of them came loose? What would I do?

First, I had to decide how the pole would be hurtling towards me on the highway. Would it simply slip off the back of the truck and go end over end? Or, would it roll down hill, perpendicular to my car? I settled on the latter.

So, I figured, the best way to avoid certain death would be to time where the pole was going to hit next (keep in mind, it’s bouncing rapidly towards my car at this point). Then, I’d stop my car a few feet in front of that point, let the pole clear my car and instantly rev my engine back up and get moving so I wouldn’t get hit by any cars behind me.

Keep in mind: none of this nonsense even came close to occurring, I drive a Toyota Corolla, and I would never be able to a move like this even if I had to.

But hey, it’s fun to pretend.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Actually having to do any of this shit.