Entrepreneurial spirit: alive and well in the burbs...

I can't remember if I've mentioned this already, but we're renovating our kitchen. Our designer is a former Israeli soldier and we're just a little scared of him. But he's doing his best to keep us on schedule, so I guess we're getting the tough love we've paid for.

Terry and I are both off from work this week and we're torturing ourselves with frustrating kitchen errands to stay in A's good graces. Over the past two days, we have spent a disproportionate number of hours and mental effort attempting to pick out a faucet. We zig zagged all over Long Island from show room to show room and so far the only thing we've accomplished is confirming that we have unreasonably expensive taste. Put us in a room with 237 faucets and we zoom in on the one tucked away in the corner that is the most outrageously overpriced one in the room. The kind of price tag that would make my farm-raised grandfather spin in his grave. Neither one of us can bring ourselves to give in to the urge and just say, "In the grand scheme of the overall budget, it's not that big a deal..." I don't think we can bear the thought of being those people. The people with the cool looking faucet who are in hock up to their eyeballs. So the search continues.

We saw some curious things in our journeys through the suburbs yesterday. My favorite was this duo of stores in Huntington. The first was a themed store I've seen many times before and wondered how on God's earth these businesses stay viable. The picture is a little blurry, but I'm sure you get the idea...


Seconds after passing this treasure trove of bargains, we passed another store almost directly across the street. I can only assume it was launched after exhaustive research - no doubt including a thorough need-gap and SWOT analysis - indicated an open opportunity in the market. The owners of this store seized the day...


Unfortunately, the faucets we like would never be sold in the first store...

Don't mind me, I'm just trying to get home...

Sorry I haven't been posting. I'm caught up in a lot of work demands - and it's left little time for more important stuff like blogging. Because I feel like venting, I'll share a quick peek into one of the more frustrating moments of the past two weeks.

I had to work kinda late last Thursday night, so I took a cab home when I was done. It was a bad, stormy night with a lot of ice on the road, so it was not entirely surprising that my less than timid cab driver got into an accident. Not a bad one - but one that required us to get off the West Side Highway so my driver could discuss the particulars of the incident with the driver of the other car. Stellar. The three main problems as I saw it:

1. My driver (who was clearly in the wrong) and the other driver both appeared to live life on the unsavory side of the fence. As their argument got more and more heated it occurred to me that it was not outside the realm of possibilities that one of these guys could pull a gun. This didn't really worry me so much as annoy me. I had zero time for this nonsense.
2. The accident occurred far enough up the West Side Highway that the exit we were forced to pull off left us in a remote area of town under a dark overpass. Not a great place to bail and grab another cab even were it the height of rush hour, never mind 9:45 at night in an ice storm.
3. The most egregious offense: my driver had left the meter running the entire time.
   

The huffing and puffing finally calmed down, my driver got back in the cab and continued on the way as though nothing had happened. Yes - I paid the full fare, but no - I did not tip very well.

Haven't we all been humbled by a cafeteria worker at some point?

I know some of you must be Star Wars fans. You will find this hilarious. Advance warning, there is some bad language in here, but it's not gratuitous, I promise. Enjoy. (A, thanks for sending)