13
Apr
11

assigning anthropomorphic traits to inanimate objects will only make them mad

Although you haven’t been a restauranteur very long, I’m sure you know by now that a city health inspector with a clipboard as heavily annotated as mine is unlikely to be delivering good news, and I’m afraid that’s the case here. Having to recommend that your eating establishment be shut down is one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make, as this restaurant not only features the finest crab salad sandwiches with blueberry waffles as the bread that I have ever had the pleasure of shoveling two-handed into my insatiable maw, but also emblemizes the spirit of American entrepreneurialism in a way that truly touched my heart. When you couldn’t scrape together the funds to hire a kitchen staff, you put in the long hours and displayed the innovation and patience to train stray dogs and cats rescued from an animal shelter to keep this place running, in the process even teaching them to use hand sanitizer and getting them all certified to administer CPR. In the face of negative reviews from our media’s sneering, elite, out-of-touch restaurant critics, you launched a popular cable news network dedicated to combating their collective inherent bias toward a bland, homogenous, syringe-and-used-condom-free dining experience. But you flew too close to the sun when, in the interest of attracting a hipper, edgier clientele, you began garnishing all dishes with pickle spears whose ends have been deemed entirely too pointy to be in compliance with Statute 437.89.

Keep your chin up, pal. Nothing  feels worse than discovering that your ambition exceeds your potential, and no one knows that better than yours truly. It was difficult after my grandma died, when I went to her estate sale to discover dozens of copies of my old band’s unlistened-to CDs being sold as coasters, but I learned that part of becoming an adult is realizing that your dreams are fucking stupid. Now, don’t give in to the temptation to feel sorry for yourself. I’m a big believer in the power of beating yourself up over even the most trivial minutiae, so you should spend as much time as you need brooding and stewing over every detail of what went wrong, then solemnly swear vengeance on all who stood as a barrier to your rightful success and get back out there. Oh, and if you ever do decide to open that Robocop 2-themed diner, I’d be happy to come aboard as an investor. Not only because I believe in your indomitable spirit, but also because ever since my son went back to prison, the money I saved for his college tuition has kinda been burning a hole in my pocket.

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