The Coffee Bitch Jeers and Cheers

Cheers to the IRS. Well to be more accurate, cheers to agent 606027. For the longest time I have been in dispute with the leeches at the IRS. I am not saying who was in the wrong but I made a mistake (unbelievable I know) and then the IRS just refused to read my letters that tried to correct the situation. Finally the maggots that they are sent me a threatening letter and when I say threatening I mean threatening. Amongst other rhetoric they say “They are empowered to collect information from my neighbors”. WTF! You mess with us bitch and we will rat you out to your neighbors. So I called and spoke to a very nice agent who actually agreed with me but had to put me on hold whilst she spoke to her supervisor. The supervisor also agreed with me and they both put me on hold whilst they typed up a letter. Here’s a thought for you. There is no set letter for the IRS to admit to being wrong so the nice lady had to keep me on hold until she manually typed a letter rescinding all claims against me. Anyway, whatever, Coffee Bitch 1 IRS 0. Here’s to you agent 606027, free coffee for life if you read this blog.

Just to prove that every sliver lining has a cloud because I tied up the line for 90 minutes we missed a big telephone order. How do I know? Because next day they called to tell us that they wanted to order 15 lunches but couldn’t get through.


Jeers to Coca Cola. One of our customers noticed that the Coke was out of date. Setting aside the issue of how pedantic you have to be to read the tiny letters on a soda bottle this is bizarre, as we had just bought this stuff. Ever eager to pin the blame the boss started to rant about those bums at Sam’s Club selling out of date stock and started to sharpen her gelding shears. I didn’t like to remind her that she was wasting her time as the manager’s meat and two veg were still in a dill pickle bottle under the bed (If you haven’t read The Coffee Bitch vs. Sam Walton, why not?). In a pathetic attempt to ingratiate myself with the boss I called Coca Cola to ask what the deal was. After all we can all be agreed that Coke is water, carbon dioxide and chemicals, none of which expire. The official lie story is that this date is a best taste before date. This means that by the time your soda gets from Atlanta to Sam’s in Bigtown it is going to taste like excrement. Is it possible that this semi legal, completely immoral ruse is just designed to ensure that retailers dump cases and cases of tooth rottin’, fat makin”, ever fizzin’ foul tastin’ pig dribble down the cludgie? So kiddies if you want to make Mr Singh's day, pop into your local 7-11 and check out the "expiry" date on his sodas

Jeers to Olive Garden and Fridays. As I have mentioned ad nausium the Smalltown haute cuisine is Applebees. We dined there last night, the boss and I, and it wasn’t even a special occasion, how cosmopolitan is that? Well it turned out to be a thoroughly pedestrian experience. It wasn’t that it was particularly bad it was more like nothing was good. The appetizers were luke warm and the entrees were sadly tasteless. So why am I bitching at Olive Garden and Fridays? Well if you guys moved into Smalltown then Applebees would have some competition and they might have to fire their worthless armpit of a chef. By the way, Hooters, this invitation also applies to you. I am not sure how busy the locals would keep you but you will have at least one loyal customer (until the boss finds out).

Cheers to Kenny for having a sense of humor. I am so calling your mother.