Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Sunday lame-ness

There's not much that's worse than the feeling you have in your stomach all day Sunday. I imagine it's similar to the dread felt by those awaiting execution. And it doesn't matter if you have to work Monday or go to school or whatever. Unless you're planning on leaving for Disney World the next morning, Sunday blows.

But Sunday doesn't just suck because it's the day before Monday. There's also the Sunday lame-ness that befalls the nation. Where I live, you can't buy alcohol on Sunday. Last Sunday, I was grocery shopping with my boyfriend, and he picked up a 6-pack of beer. Later on in the shopping trip, a grocery store manager approached us in the midst of an aisle and ripped the beer from our immoral hands. Nothing could make a dork like me feel more like an alcoholic. Now, I don't know a lot about religion, so it's hard for me to grasp this law. Is not buying beer on Sunday part of the Ten Commandments? Is it part of the story of Jonah and the whale? And just what is the story of Jonah and the whale? I don't know because the one time I've heard that title was in religion class in college when my professor said, "And, of course, all of you know the story of Jonah and the whale." Needless to say, it was an inwardly awkward moment for me. Anyway, I guess God doesn't want us buying beer on Sunday. Feel free to get bombed off the beer you bought yesterday, though. Who are we fooling with this Sunday prohibition?? It's not like they put all the alcohol away...it's sitting there in the aisle, sinning away. So, fine, the Bible tells us we shouldn't buy beer, wine, or liquor on Sunday. Pretty sure the Bible also tells us to be nice to one another, but that clearly doesn't phase the bitch that refused to give me the courtesy wave when I let her boat-sized SUV pull out in front of me as she left the CHURCH on 3rd street.

Alright, I already can't buy my wine for Lipstick Jungle girls night on Sunday. (It's such a fresh, smart, and sassy show...) But, now imagine this. My friend picks me up around 8 in the morning so we can deliver those stupid Real Estate books that list all the real estate in the area. In reality, we will deliver approximately 3 boxes of said books, and recycle the other 3 after we've hit up all the hotels that give away free popcorn and cookies. Anyway, she picks me up and I'm hungry (and in high school, thus, I have the metabolism of a marathon runner and eat whatever the hell I want). ALL I want out of life at this moment is a chicken biscuit from Chick-Fil-A. Juicy and warm, with just the right amount of spice. As we pull in, we have a horrifying realization...CHICK-FIL-A IS CLOSED ON SUNDAYS. This event happened to me about 7 years ago, and, as you can see, the emotional damage it caused won't soon fade. It's one thing to not sell alcohol on Sunday because the law tells you too. It's quite another to close altogether one day a week of your own volition! How big of a nerd is this Mr. Chick-Fil anyway? I remember getting a kid's meal there when I was little, and the prize was a cassette tape about two square kids that went on a religious adventure. Even as an innocent ten-year-old, my reaction was "What the fuck?" And this is, naturally, the only appropriate reaction because who wants to get preached to just because they can't resist a delicious waffle fry?

The God I believe in would never expect someone to sacrifice chicken biscuits in the name of religion. It's just so unecessary. I hope that Mr. Chick-Fil recognizes that everyone who tries to go to his resturant on Sunday ends up cursing him to H-E-double hockey sticks anyway. I know I do! And I have a lot of pull with God because I don't buy wine on Sundays.

2 comments:

Beside the point said...

OMG i ALWAYS want a Chic-fil-a biscuit on Sundays and I ALWAYS forget that they're closed. It is a cruel, cruel joke. I was explaining this to my roommate, though, and she said, "Yeah but I respect that they give employees that day off." Which is nice, I supposed. Just not a very smart business move. Just think of how many pre-or post church chicken purchases would be made on a Sunday!

Sue Ellen Mishky said...

Wow, is it spelled CHIC-Fil-A? Well, I'm sticking with Chick b/c I don't like to admit failure.