Fil-A-Buster or IKEA is my happy place
Well "slighted anonymous reader" has put me in my place.
I will make a couple excuses: lost my username and couldn't get back on, when I finally did and tried to write blogger was down, also had a few long work days coupled with some required appearances at events outside the home and yes, Mr. Za za zoo took up some time in there too. Or maybe I just went out and got myself a life. Who knows, in any event, it's true, I haven't written anything for quite a few days now. And while there were times I started, I just didn't have the energy to really sit down and do it like I need it to be done. Many apologies. I'll try and be better from now on.
However, in the time since last we spoke I've realized two very important things.
First is that if I ever have a band, in which I will no doubt have to sing backup vocals and play the bass (thus requiring the actual learning of said instrument), my first album will be called Unsated Monkey which will also be the title track.
The second thing is that though I have no design on doing so, if the need arose, I could be a fantastic homeless person. I'll make it clear that I have no desire whatsoever to live on the streets of Philadelphia. [Editorial Note: Somewhere in New Jersey Bruce Springsteen is crooning] However, if I was forced to, I know I would more than rise to the challenge. I have also a great love for the people of IKEA and Chik-Fil-A, which I pronounce Fill-Uh, as in the first two syllables of my fair city. Because that's what the sign says and I hate fast fooding of the English language. There is no such thing as phun, you cannot pick a razzberry, and in my book nite will never follow day. Besides, with the effort wasted when you have to include the dash marks you might as well just write fillet.
Sorry, for the tyrannical rant. But these things bother me. Did you know the Di Bruno Bros Mission Statement ends with a sentence fragment: Enriching our customer's satisfaction along the way. Every time I go to work and see the sign hanging over the register it makes me want to gouge my own eye out just so I have somethng to knock it down with.
Anyway, I was talking about why I'd make a good homeless person. And I say this not only because I get intensely and irrationally upset about incorrect grammar. I'm also extremely good at eating cheap food. Like at IKEA, where I had mac and cheese, an ice cream cone and a cup of coffee for 2 dollars and 50 cents today. Not to mention a days worth of entertainment. It had been a while since I was at IKEA and I was reminded of a story I love to share, one that explains why if I ended up on the mean streets I'd never want for food, thanks to my wiley ways. It's a tale some of you will have undoubtably heard before, but it's classic Adrienne to repeat my best stories upwards of 4 or 5 times before people start to stop me. Besides this one is way worth a second go-round.
So a few months ago I, which is to say "Esteemed Chik-Fil-A Customer", received in the mail a set of two coupons: one for a free Chik-Fil-A chicken sandwich and one for a free Chik-Fil-A chicken breakfast biscuit. Now granted, the coupons could have been intended for one G. Bread instead of ourselves. But, given the distinction of the intended recipient as quoth "Esteemed" I'd like to think the good people at Chik-Fil-A clearly intended these lovely articles of savings to be put to use by the upstairs occupants of my humble abode. So my former roomate, now lost to the Appalachian Trail, and I thought this too good a deal to pass up. As such we drove down to the nearest Chik-Fil-A, a mere 5 minute drive from our home, and handed the paper hatted counter worker our coupon.
"Anything else?"
"No, just the sandwich thanks."
"Just the one sandwich. For both of you?"
"Yep. Just the one."
"Nothing to drink?"
"No thank you."
"... Fries?"
"Nope. "
At this point the woman paused, unsure how to proceede. She bagged the foil wrapped treat and after a moment's deliberation pressed on with:
"Here's your sandwich and thanks for coming to Chi-Fil-A. Have a coupon."
And with that she handed us a certificate for a second free Chik-Fil-A sandwich.
Now granted, this time we were made to work for our food. A 3 minute phone questionaire would have to be answered. Buttons ranging from 1 to 5 would have to be pressed regarding our Chik-Fil-A experience. We had to think hard about the cleanliness, courteousness, and tastiness factors of our first visit. 4's and 5's across the board my friends. On the whole, I'd like to hope the corporate big-wigs felt good listening to our short recorded message about what we felt when we ate at Chik-Fil-A as compared to other fast food establishments.
This brings me to the second half of the story, before which I must take some time to wax poetic about the greatest mass-producing furniture and home good store to come out of a Scandanavian country to date. I love IKEA. Some say love is a very strong word, to which I say, then it applies. Miles and miles of affordable little futuristic shiny green plastic things. Bins as far as the eye can see filled with pillows and tiny 3-pack picture frames, coat hangers and can openers, wicker baskets and red-flowering mini-cacti. Display after pre-assembled display of neat little kitchens, bathrooms and bedrooms just waiting to be recreated in a moderately inexpensive aparment near you. And the best part is, the savings don't only extend to the housewares.
I'm speaking of course about the newest IKEA promo, the 99 cent breakfast from 9:30 to 11am. So after receiving our free chicken coupons and myself being in the possession of one IKEA gift card impatient to be redeemed, the roomate and I decided it was high time we take advantage of this breakfast blessing. So before the coupons expired, and Chik-Fil-A being only just across the parking lot, we decided to suppliment our IKEA morning meal with two Chik-Fil-A breakfast sandwiches, one from the original coupon and one from the second. So once again we handed in the pieces of paper bequething us our poultry laden bounty:
"Anything else?"
"Nope, just the breakfast sandwiches thanks."
"That's all?"
"Yes indeed."
"No orange juice?"
"Not today thanks."
"... Fruit cup?"
"I think we'll be alright."
Again a troubled pause. Inner struggle and strife. Hamlet, written and re-written in the mind of the woman before us.
"Here's your breakfast sandwiches and thanks for coming to Chi-Fil-A. Have some coupons."
And low and behold, the woman hands us two more free sandwich coupons. We trotted off to IKEA feeling quite pleased with ourselves. We ate our scrumptious dollar breakfasts, the best part of the dollar breakfast being of course that if you spend more than 25 dollars at IKEA and can show your receipt they refund you that money when you ring in at the checkout counter. I having used a gift card, paid no money at all for the purchases essentially leaving IKEA paying Seth and I a dollar each to eat their food. Not to mention that I acquired several new home items, including a tasteful desk lamp which now brightens a once dark corner of my room.
At the time I quite believed we could continue this chain of chicken as long as we made sure to redeem our sandwiches every week or so before the coupons expired. Sadly, the next and what proved to be last, visit to Fil-A marked the end of that particular ad campaign.
With people like my roomate and myself, I can only wonder why...
I will make a couple excuses: lost my username and couldn't get back on, when I finally did and tried to write blogger was down, also had a few long work days coupled with some required appearances at events outside the home and yes, Mr. Za za zoo took up some time in there too. Or maybe I just went out and got myself a life. Who knows, in any event, it's true, I haven't written anything for quite a few days now. And while there were times I started, I just didn't have the energy to really sit down and do it like I need it to be done. Many apologies. I'll try and be better from now on.
However, in the time since last we spoke I've realized two very important things.
First is that if I ever have a band, in which I will no doubt have to sing backup vocals and play the bass (thus requiring the actual learning of said instrument), my first album will be called Unsated Monkey which will also be the title track.
The second thing is that though I have no design on doing so, if the need arose, I could be a fantastic homeless person. I'll make it clear that I have no desire whatsoever to live on the streets of Philadelphia. [Editorial Note: Somewhere in New Jersey Bruce Springsteen is crooning] However, if I was forced to, I know I would more than rise to the challenge. I have also a great love for the people of IKEA and Chik-Fil-A, which I pronounce Fill-Uh, as in the first two syllables of my fair city. Because that's what the sign says and I hate fast fooding of the English language. There is no such thing as phun, you cannot pick a razzberry, and in my book nite will never follow day. Besides, with the effort wasted when you have to include the dash marks you might as well just write fillet.
Sorry, for the tyrannical rant. But these things bother me. Did you know the Di Bruno Bros Mission Statement ends with a sentence fragment: Enriching our customer's satisfaction along the way. Every time I go to work and see the sign hanging over the register it makes me want to gouge my own eye out just so I have somethng to knock it down with.
Anyway, I was talking about why I'd make a good homeless person. And I say this not only because I get intensely and irrationally upset about incorrect grammar. I'm also extremely good at eating cheap food. Like at IKEA, where I had mac and cheese, an ice cream cone and a cup of coffee for 2 dollars and 50 cents today. Not to mention a days worth of entertainment. It had been a while since I was at IKEA and I was reminded of a story I love to share, one that explains why if I ended up on the mean streets I'd never want for food, thanks to my wiley ways. It's a tale some of you will have undoubtably heard before, but it's classic Adrienne to repeat my best stories upwards of 4 or 5 times before people start to stop me. Besides this one is way worth a second go-round.
So a few months ago I, which is to say "Esteemed Chik-Fil-A Customer", received in the mail a set of two coupons: one for a free Chik-Fil-A chicken sandwich and one for a free Chik-Fil-A chicken breakfast biscuit. Now granted, the coupons could have been intended for one G. Bread instead of ourselves. But, given the distinction of the intended recipient as quoth "Esteemed" I'd like to think the good people at Chik-Fil-A clearly intended these lovely articles of savings to be put to use by the upstairs occupants of my humble abode. So my former roomate, now lost to the Appalachian Trail, and I thought this too good a deal to pass up. As such we drove down to the nearest Chik-Fil-A, a mere 5 minute drive from our home, and handed the paper hatted counter worker our coupon.
"Anything else?"
"No, just the sandwich thanks."
"Just the one sandwich. For both of you?"
"Yep. Just the one."
"Nothing to drink?"
"No thank you."
"... Fries?"
"Nope. "
At this point the woman paused, unsure how to proceede. She bagged the foil wrapped treat and after a moment's deliberation pressed on with:
"Here's your sandwich and thanks for coming to Chi-Fil-A. Have a coupon."
And with that she handed us a certificate for a second free Chik-Fil-A sandwich.
Now granted, this time we were made to work for our food. A 3 minute phone questionaire would have to be answered. Buttons ranging from 1 to 5 would have to be pressed regarding our Chik-Fil-A experience. We had to think hard about the cleanliness, courteousness, and tastiness factors of our first visit. 4's and 5's across the board my friends. On the whole, I'd like to hope the corporate big-wigs felt good listening to our short recorded message about what we felt when we ate at Chik-Fil-A as compared to other fast food establishments.
This brings me to the second half of the story, before which I must take some time to wax poetic about the greatest mass-producing furniture and home good store to come out of a Scandanavian country to date. I love IKEA. Some say love is a very strong word, to which I say, then it applies. Miles and miles of affordable little futuristic shiny green plastic things. Bins as far as the eye can see filled with pillows and tiny 3-pack picture frames, coat hangers and can openers, wicker baskets and red-flowering mini-cacti. Display after pre-assembled display of neat little kitchens, bathrooms and bedrooms just waiting to be recreated in a moderately inexpensive aparment near you. And the best part is, the savings don't only extend to the housewares.
I'm speaking of course about the newest IKEA promo, the 99 cent breakfast from 9:30 to 11am. So after receiving our free chicken coupons and myself being in the possession of one IKEA gift card impatient to be redeemed, the roomate and I decided it was high time we take advantage of this breakfast blessing. So before the coupons expired, and Chik-Fil-A being only just across the parking lot, we decided to suppliment our IKEA morning meal with two Chik-Fil-A breakfast sandwiches, one from the original coupon and one from the second. So once again we handed in the pieces of paper bequething us our poultry laden bounty:
"Anything else?"
"Nope, just the breakfast sandwiches thanks."
"That's all?"
"Yes indeed."
"No orange juice?"
"Not today thanks."
"... Fruit cup?"
"I think we'll be alright."
Again a troubled pause. Inner struggle and strife. Hamlet, written and re-written in the mind of the woman before us.
"Here's your breakfast sandwiches and thanks for coming to Chi-Fil-A. Have some coupons."
And low and behold, the woman hands us two more free sandwich coupons. We trotted off to IKEA feeling quite pleased with ourselves. We ate our scrumptious dollar breakfasts, the best part of the dollar breakfast being of course that if you spend more than 25 dollars at IKEA and can show your receipt they refund you that money when you ring in at the checkout counter. I having used a gift card, paid no money at all for the purchases essentially leaving IKEA paying Seth and I a dollar each to eat their food. Not to mention that I acquired several new home items, including a tasteful desk lamp which now brightens a once dark corner of my room.
At the time I quite believed we could continue this chain of chicken as long as we made sure to redeem our sandwiches every week or so before the coupons expired. Sadly, the next and what proved to be last, visit to Fil-A marked the end of that particular ad campaign.
With people like my roomate and myself, I can only wonder why...
posted by A at 6:34 PM
1 Comments:
Better.
1) A songstress already claimed what should have been your first choice for an album title: "Love in a Time of Science"
2)When you can no longer perpetuate your fast-food schemes or your religious-rooted restaurant is closed on Sunday, try stopping by trader joe's at 9:30 p.m. for the perishable food they throw out.
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