Tri-via

1. Value of my labor in that every other month, I have to call PayFlex Benefit Services (NAMING AND SHAMING) in order to collect a refund, which I am usually denied vs. the expense in paying post-tax dollars on my monthly Metrocard
2. Going to Trader Joe’s for the few items they sell cheaper than Freshdirect vs. justifying the time saved with a relaxing bubble bath
3. The Awful Truth of Loving vs. The Well of Loneliness
4. Simpler Times Lager vs. just going ahead and drinking some fortified wine in the little park by my house that overlooks the Prospect Expressway
5. Reaching out and touching someone vs. reaching out and touching myself (I stole that joke from Letterman)

“We’ve known Blanche all her life, and we love her,” one woman explained delicately while Mrs. Lincoln’s mother, a town fixture beloved for her pimento cheese sandwiches and homemade cookies, ate at a nearby table. “We just don’t think she’s been making very good decisions lately.”

This is the most Arkansan sentence I have ever read in my life. I think my mother might have even said it. This has been an unexpectedly suburban Little Rock weekend — I went to the Park Slope 7-11 for my yearly Slurpee (not as good as an Icee, but close), and then spent another meandering half hour in Eagle Provisions, which is basically Cordell’s, except a little smellier and run by indifferent Poles. Cordell’s, for those unfamiliar, was the first gourmet store in town, but it was less gourmet and more just an exotic potpourri of groceries That Time Forgot. Famous Chocolate Wafers? Got ‘em. Pre-made Old Bay Cocktail Sauce? Got it. Trappist preserves? Superior, German flavors of Ritter Sport (Nugat, Erdbeer Joghurt, Caramel-Nuss)? You see where this is going.