Melicious Details

Tomato Time

It's tomato planting season at our house, where we research the best, sweetest varieties of tomato plants to buy, we head off to the nursery to purchase them, we weed out the tomato planters we built last year, we turn over the soil with a shovel and bring in a few wheelbarrows of mulch, and then we put each little plant in the dirt.  And by we, I mean Clyde.

Last year, no one loved our home grown tomatoes more than Trio.  Cue the True Blood theme song:

Numerophobia

I downloaded a handy new iPhone app called Tipulator (not to be confused with the tipping practice known as The Service Was So Bad I'll Tip You LATER).  I used it for the first time when having dinner with my sister wives, Susan, Lindsay and Desiree.  If you do not watch the HBO series Big Love, you are no doubt saying to yourself what the hell does she mean with the sister wives?  If you do watch Big Love, you know exactly how funny this is, and I cannot take any credit, it was completely Desiree's idea.

As a side note, have you noticed how many references this blog makes to HBO?  It's not like they are paying me or anything.

I used Tipulator to calculate our dinner bill, putting in the amount, adding an 18% tip (because how could you ever figure out 18% without a calculator anyway) and dividing by four.  No long division on the tablecloth, no trying to decide if we should round up or round down.  I am in love with Tipulator. We decided to spare our server the agony of dealing with four credit cards for one check and just had her split it on two cards, mine and Desiree's.

Me:  OK, Des, we each owe $72.57.  Total.
Des:  So how much is the tip?
Me:  I already included it.  The total is $72.57.
Des:  So I have to subtract the tip? 
Me:  The total tip amount is $22.14.  So use half of that.
Des:  I'll just sign my credit card receipt and give it to you to fill out.  That way I don't have to look at any numbers.

All Ears

If you are a person talking on your cellphone in public and I can hear you, I will be eavesdropping.  Because I'm just nosy that way. 

I catch people lying all the time. Like the woman at JFK in the bookstore with me.  We'd checked in for the same flight, and now had lots of time to kill.  Which explains why we were both standing around reading magazines we had no intention of buying.  She answered her phone and started talking about nothing very interesting.  But then she says, "OK, I gotta go, my flight is boarding now."  And I look at her like seriously?  It's not boarding for 45 more minutes.  If we're lucky. 

Or the guy sitting by me outside of Peet's.  He was slumped in a chair, his head back, staring at the sky while he talked on his cell.

Guy:  I already told you.
pause
Guy:  NOTHING HAPPENED WITH HER.
pause
Guy:  Well, she's lying.
pause
Guy:  (sighs loudly) I don't know.
pause
Guy:  I have to go.  My battery is running out.
pause
Guy:  My battery is RUNNING OUT. I'll call you later. Bye.

He then dials another number and talks to his buddy about sports for the next 15 minutes.

Speaking of eavesdropping, my best one ever was a few years ago at a swanky restaurant.  A man and a woman were sitting at a table close by. They started out having a romantic dinner but it began to death spiral during the entree.  I was straining to hear because oh my god, it was obviously so juicy but they were whispering through clenched teeth, which is especially hard to decipher.  Finally, the woman pushed back her chair and said, with exceptional clarity, "John, you're the one who came home with the disease!" and walked out of the restaurant.