A little bit ago, I interviewed at a recruiting company called Robert half, and they finally called me back back to come in for a second interview. I agreed, only because I wanted to get use out of my brand new business suit. I slept at Maff’s house the night before because he lives closer to Robert 1/2 and they wanted me to go in at 8:15 IN THE MORNING.

When I put on my brand new dress pants they were high waters, but when I bought them the day before, they were too long, so it was a bit weird to me that they became too short… I stepped out of them to look at the tag, and it turned out I accidentally bought the short ones instead of the regular length ones. Go figya.

Since I was at Matt’s house, I had no other choice but to show up wearing the high waters. It was very embarrassing, but not quite as embarrassing as some of the people that I met there.

When I first interviewed a few weeks ago, my interviewer’s hands were noticeably shaky. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt since she was sunburned and maybe she was just tired or something. But when I was meeting with her for the second time, her hands were still shaking. Caffeine? Drugs? Parkinson’s? Who can say?

She was going on about all the money she makes, but I couldn’t stop staring at her hands, which were empty, in regards to wedding rings. I was also a little distracted by how she kept pronouncing it, ‘sussessful.” Like, there’s a K in it, idiot.

Then, I got to shadow this other girl that would be on my team, let’s call her Kara. Kara was answering the phone saying “office team,” instead of Robert 1/2, so I asked her why. Why Kara? She said it’s because Robert Half has bad press circulating about them for being one of the worst companies to work for… THEN she told me not to search them on because of all the negative reviews… Maybe you shouldn’t be RECRUITER dumb Kara.

Among other deal breakers, Kara told me she gets to work at 7am and leaves at 7pm.

She also asked me where my “sweetheart” works… What kind of 22 year old woman calls it that? The word is BOYFRIEND, or boo for urban city dwellers.

And then the icing on the cake, she referred to her father as “daddy.” Pervert.

So, obviously not someone that I’d want to have any contact with more than just the one time. After that, me and my high-water trousers got the hell out of there.

They offered me a job with a decent base and “high commission potential,” but I called them the next day and turned them down because I love being unemployed. Sucks for them.

High-water heartbreaker

By arlingtonchronicles

Sweat lodge

Yesterday I wore blue pants to work. Not many of my shirts match them so I decided to wear a white shirt with lace on it. The only problem was it was wrinkled, and somehow shrunk into a belly shirt. So I thought it would be a good solution to just wear my Northface over it all day. After an hour of gchatting and applying for other, better jobs, the fire alarm went off. We couldn’t take the elevator so I walked down 12 flights of stairs behind a 200 old man, then stood outside for 15 minutes and looked at people.

Once we got the clear to go back in, there were about 40 people standing in the elevator bank. Being on the 12th floor, it usually takes 25 minutes to get up there with all the stops. They’re the slowest elevators ever. So I decided to take the stairs. There was another guy that had the same thought so I had to try and stifle my heavy breathing that kicked in around the 5th flight. But I couldn’t really hold it in. By time I got to the top I was wheezing and sweating profusely.

My office has two settings: freezing, and hell. It was on hell that day, but I couldn’t take off my Northface because of my shirt. So today, I wore a normal shirt, and it’s on freezing, and I’m cold.

Go figya.

By arlingtonchronicles

Apple surplus and the sandwich from hell

This weekend Maff and I went to PA to visit his sister Melissa and her husband Bill.

On Saturday we went to a bar during the day because Melissa and Bill didn’t have the Tech game on their TV. I ended up stealing acquiring some really cute mugs so even though Tech lost I still won.

Later that day we went to a pumpkin patch and Bill bought a 32 pound pumpkin.  They also had some small apple trees. The apples weren’t actually on the trees, they were on the ground under the trees. This grossed me out a considerable amount, but we still got a bag and I filled it with three apples.

Me: Three seems like enough

Matt: Well they charge by the bag, not the pound, so you might as well get more

Me: That seems weird

Matt: Yeah, well, that’s how they do it

Ten apples later….

We’re standing at the check-out line, and they of course charge by the pound. That is the last time I ever listen to Maff about apple prices. Now I have a ton of apples and I’m poor. Plus, apples give me a stomach ache so I’ll probably only eat five of them… at once… to get it over with.

For dinner, me made a late night stop at Wawa’s to get some sandwiches. I wanted a turkey sandwich that was toasted, but I didn’t realize that if you click “cold subs” on their little computerized ordering machine that you could get it toasted, so I clicked “hot sub.” The only hot sub with turkey on it in this category had cranberry sauce and stuffing on it. So I clicked on it, and then unchecked the cranberry sauce. I added some toppings then we all got our sandwiches and piled into the car. My sandwich weighed about 15 pounds so I took a peek at her, and sure enough there was cramberry and stuffing on her, plus mustard and a mayo and jalepenos.  She looked something like this.

Subway sandwich
What’s worse is, I didn’t even order jalepenos.

I went back inside to protest, but she showed me my order slip, which said cranberry sauce, stuffing and jalapenos. Weird…  She made me another sandwich and I told her I didn’t want cranberry of stuffing on this one. She toasted the bread with cheese on it, and said, “so you want the hot turkey?” I answered yes, not knowing that “hot turkey” meant cut up turkey chunks covered in gravy. So I still ended up with a sandwich full of weird turkey, gravy, mustard, mayo, lettuce and tomato. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

Maff kindly shared half of his normal sandwich with me and then ate half of the demon sandwich. We threw the other half in the garbage where she belongs.

After that we carved pumpkins and I made a haunted house which my mom thought was a cat (???) The end.

By arlingtonchronicles

Ragtime Experience: The mashed potato mystery

Last night Maff and I went to Ragtime in Courthouse for the first time. We were hesitant because it looks kind of small and dumpy from the outside, but we wanted to get a quick bite at a place with TVs so Maff could watch the BAL vs. NYY playoffs.

When we went in, we were pleasantly surprised by the nice ambiance and larger rooms in the back that aren’t visible to pedestrians. We ordered mashed potato quesadillas for our appetizer. Maff’s choice :/ They were actually not bad. They were cheesy and sour creamy and tasted like calories. I suggest dipping them in hot sauce.

Mashed potatoes, cheddar cheese & bacon in a flour tortilla with sour cream.

For my main course I ordered a chicken sammich because I can’t resist anything that has avocado or chipotle mayonnaise on it. I call them “buzz words.” Other buzz words of mine: cilantro, feta, goat cheese, and pesto, to name a few. I also got a side of macaroni. They have a lot of side options like salad, mashed potatoes, fries, coleslaw… it was almost impossible for me to choose because I love all of those things. But macaroni always wins. It was pretty good; tasted homemade.

California Chicken
Grilled chicken, alfalfa sprouts, sliced tomato, avocado and Jack cheese with Chipotle mayonnaise on a Ciabatta roll.

Matt got the Ragtime Club and I made him trade half of his sammich for half of mine.

Ragtime Club
Ham, turkey, Swiss, cheddar, bacon, lettuce, tomato & mayo on your choice of white, wheat or rye.

He got mashed potatoes on the side; they’re his weakness. He of course gobbled up the mashed potatoes right away, so I says to him, I says, “It would have been nice  if you offered me a bite of those.” He says, “you took a bite of them right when they put my plate down.”

Me: I bet my life that I absolutely did not taste your potatoes

Maff: Well I bet my life that you DID

Me: Nuh uh

Maff: I swear, you took a spoonful of them and I didn’t say anything

Me: Ah ha! I don’t even HAVE a spoon!

Maff: Forkful. Whatever…

5 more minutes of this conversation.

I guess we’ll never know. But I can tell you that I’m usually right when it comes to debates between me and Maff, so I think he’d be dead if someone actually held us to our bets.

Overall, I’d recommend Ragtime for date night and for a rowdy sports game.

By arlingtonchronicles

Monday’s Daydreams

While looking through some of my unpublished drafts, I found a post that I wrote during my time as a sales rep. When I was brutally fired from that hell hole, I upgraded to an unpaid internship. Life is good, just kidding.

Anyway, if you are thinking about accepting a job as the most loathed person in the workforce, other than cops, be prepared to have similar thoughts:

My hands turning into liquid as I attempt to document my rejected sales pitch, thus ruining my keyboard.

Watching my food in the microwave as the radiation increases the size of my tongue by six sizes.

Opening the window and a dust bowl sweeps through the office, I have no eyelids, just three pieces of string that hang from each of my eyebrows.

My teeth turning into wood as I bite into an apple; they are too dull to puncture the skin of the apple.

Every time someone makes an outbound call, one of my limbs falls off.

Coloring my hands with the black Expo marker and pretending they are burnt toast while I gnaw on them

Perpetually looking at the clock, time stands still; I live here now.

Sitting on the toilet and getting bitten by a very small, yet very real shark.

Celebrating as I receive what I think is a signed contract, but realizing on closer look that it is a very detailed account of my imminent death

By arlingtonchronicles

Just leaked: 50 Shades of grey movie cast

For everyone that devoured salacious 50 shades trilogy, here a first look at which stars will be portraying the perverted characters that we all have grown to love.


Mrs. Robinson

Played my Diane Keaton

Kate Kavanaugh

Played by Nicole Kidman


Christian Grey

Played by Ronald Weasley

Anastasia Steele

Played by Angelina Jolie


Played by Pierce Brosnan

Mia Grey

Played by Salma Hyek

Leila Williams

Played by Courtney Cox


Played by George Lopez

Elliot Grey

Played by Owen Wilson

Jack Hyde

Played by Ben Stiller

That is the official cast. Filming is scheduled to wrap up in the summer of 2013 which should be just enough time to get through the sheer volume of sex scenes in the 50 Shades trilogy.

By arlingtonchronicles

My Beach Trip- With Special Guest Star, Bird Poop

This weekend, Maff and I went down to visit Cathy in Southport, NC again to celebrate the 4th of July. This time, Maff’s sister Melissa and her husband Bill were there so things got pretty crazy. We went to the beach all day Saturday and I didn’t burn, yay!

Don’t let this beach’s beautiful looks deceive you, it’s actually a dirty crook! First it stole my hair tie, which sounds like a petty crime, but when you have 30 pounds of hair it is a FELONY. Second, it stole my Ray Ban sunglasses. I was warned by Maff’s family not to wear them into the water, but I didn’t think the ocean would do that to me. If you thought that Ray Bans float, well, you’re wrong. They were wiped off my face and immediately lost forever. Maybe someone in China will find them, assume that they are mine, and mail them back to me. If not, I am happy that I at least I had them for a year, that is actually pretty good for a chronic loser.

After an extremely long day at the beach, we went to Fishy Fishy for dinner. There was a 45 minute wait because I’m pretty sure Fishy Fishy is the only restaurant in that town, so we decided to go to the bar while we waited. There was one kid working the bar and a group of ladies sitting directly in front of him, so Maff, Bill and I were virtually invisible. Matt blames it on the bright pink shirt I got him. Little does he know it’s  not pink, it’s “Maui.”

Apparently we weren’t the only ones that hated this giant group of ladies that kept ordering complicated mixed drinks, because some guy said something about being ignored also. The bartender was awfully defensive, “I see you man, I’m not ignoring you,” he snapped,  rudely. Then he knocked a stack of at least ten glass cups to the ground. The dropped cups, combined with his ability to push one button every three seconds on his computer screen earns him the #1 spot on my most incompetent bartender list. It’s a new list that I’ve started, because of him.

A lady came up behind us and asked how long we’d been waiting.  I told her the bartender only has eyes for that group of ladies, and she made a fuss right in front of his manager. I normally hate ladies like that, but I didn’t even mind this time because it was getting ridic. The defensive bartender claimed he had a “system,” which I think was: wait on these needy ladies hand and foot and don’t make eye contact with anyone else. In his defense, it is a system.

We finally got our beers and were seated about 15 minutes later. Crab dip, fried grouper bites, and jalapeno hushpuppie appetizers,  two jumbo lump crab cakes with green beans and mashed potatoes for dinner. I know how many calories is in that, but judging by my scale when I got home, I’m guesstimating it was about five pounds worth of ’em.  But that is neither here nor there, because an Independence day miracle happened – Maff tried the fried grouper! The only fish Maff eats are goldfish crackers. Actually- his sister said he ate a live goldfish once for a dollar, but I don’t really count that. He said it wasn’t bad at first, but when it came time to swallow it he almost gagged. I’m still proud of him though because he hasn’t tried fish in 15 years. They say your taste buds change every seven years, so we’ll count this one a swing and miss. However, I will be making fish for dinner on his 33rd birthday. Fingers crossed!

When we got home, I was looking for a frog party outside of the garage because there was on there last time, and wouldn’t ya know it, there was on there again! Well, not so much a party as a single bachelor perhaps getting ready for bed.

And wouldn’t ya know it again, there was another spider in the garage, just like last time. Not for long though. Maff smashed it with a hamma! Just kidding, he stomped on it.

On Sunday we went to the beach again, and I was lucky enough to witness a gigantic bird party. A few years ago, my friends and I were standing on a dock in Florida with a plethora of crackers, so we tossed them into the air and hosted our very first bird party. It got very intense and turned out extremely frightening, but now, whenever we see a bird party, it’s very exciting.

We were sitting in a semi-circle on the beach talking about this and that, and out of no where, someone pooped on me! Right on my chest. I’m pretty sure it was a bird, but there is no real way of knowing because it did not look like typical white bird poop. It was brown and it stained my white bathing suit top, despite my 100 mph sprint into the water. I’ve never been pooped on by a bird before, but they say it’s good luck. I don’t really think that’s true, because I’m pretty sure getting pooped on is a bad thing. That is just the way I was raised.

We went to Dead End Saloon on our way home from the beach, and I got the same thing as last time; chicken Caesar salad. We finished our food and were having a leisurely chat when we saw a bee and/or hornet the size of a salamander buzzing against the screened window, so we got the hell out of there. Maff and I went home to pack before hitting the road, and this little fella was hiding in the garge key pad and jumped on Matt’s hand, stuck there for a minute, then dropped to the ground. I have no idea how he fit between the key pad and the cover. He must be a wizard.

We didn’t get home until around 1:00 am on a Sunday night, and even though I lost some possessions and got shat on,  I got a great tan, had some really good food, and got to spend a lot of time with one of my favorite families.

By arlingtonchronicles

Food Monikers

Now a days, almost everyone in Hollywood has monikers with their significant other; Brangelina, TomKat, Billary, Bennifer 2.0, Kimye, Bey-Z etc., etc. But what happens if  your name is Miley and your lover’s name is Liam and your moniker is something stupid like  Miliam. OR- what if you are single? Or dead; the contract of marriage is null once you are dead, right? So why not be defined by a name that actually tells us something about you?

With food monikers, you don’t even need a spouse or a pulse in order to have a fun, informative name. I for one, love food more than I am capable of loving  any other human being anyhow.

America’s beloved late night talk show host David Lettermanhattan Clam Chowder represents  his hometown.

Sean Penne Pasta says “to hell with angel hair! bring me the kind that looks like a tube!”

The timeless poet Edgar Allen Potato Leak Soup created many works during the Irish Potato famine era.

Hollywood’s most infamous member of the mafia, James Gandolfetucchini, likes to advertise the food of his homeland.

Murder mystery writer Oscar Wilde Mushrooms  likes to show that he is actually a “fun guy” in real life.

Jack Lemmon Chicken is gone now, but I’m sure he’d  like to be remembered as a sour old man.

After getting Footloose, Kevin Bacon Cheeseburger likes to to strap on the old feedbag at the local burger joint.

As an athlete and underwear model,  David Beckhamburger  watches what he eats, and likes to show his disdain for fatty foods like cheese.

Let’s just face it, Nicole Kidmanicotti sounds way better than Keithman, and who doesn’t love manicotti?

John Mahoney Baked Ham loves hunkering down with some quality ham on a Sunday evening after all the grandkids are tucked in bed.

The sweet singer/songwriter  Alicia Key Lime Pie shows she has little bit of a kick. Although, Alischwizz is kind of fun to say.

Being the fine cellist he is, Yo Yo Mahi Mahi only likes to indulge in the finest of foods.

Although Bernie Mac and Cheese can’t enjoy it today, he would consume copious amounts of macaroni while filming hit TV series The Bernie Mac Show.

Catherine Baked Ziti Jones loves to cook up a storm. Michael Douglasagna resorts to the layered noodles, as can’t even look at baked ziti anymore.

As a petite woman, Sally Field Green Salad explains her small figure.

Kate Winslettuce Wraps enjoyed a cornocopia of leafy greens while sailing in the Titanic.

Brittany Snow Peas knows the importance of eating vegetables with every meal to keep her blond locks shining bright.

With all those muscles, meat is a good source of protein for Sylvester Satlondon Broil.

Bruschetta James claims she owes all of her fame and fortune to a rigorous tomato diet.
Russian dictator Joseph Stalinsalata never had any time for a main course. By time he finished his appetizer, he had to get up and perform more heinous crimes.
Muhammad Aligator Bites earned his claim to fame by biting people to win his matches.
Times were tough during the Great Depression, and Franklin D. Rosavelvita couldn’t afford Kraft.
Mother Teresausage  won the nobel peace price for handing out luscious links of encased animal parts to the hungry.
Ludwig van Beethoven Roasted Turkey got his stamina to perform for long periods of time by feuling up on delicious turkey sandwiches.
As an avid fan of fishing, Clint Eastwood Grilled Salmon likes to prepare this delicasy for his family.
John Travoltacos relied heavily on Chipotle as a source of comfort food during his time of need.
As you can see, the world would be much better if everyone stopped being lame, and started combining their name with a food item.
*Disclaimer: Mostly all of the facts pertaining to these famous people are false.

What would your food moniker be?

By arlingtonchronicles

Titanic 2012

A few nights ago, the fire alarm in my apartment building went off around 10:00pm, on a school night! Taylor and I thought that it was a very rude time to have a fire drill, so we slowly put on our shoes and dragged ourselves to the door. We  were shocked when we stepped into the hallway, and the sprinklers were pouring down from the ceiling about eight doors to our left. It looked like the Titanic, execpt the water wasn’t rushing toward us, threatening our lives. But it was still very frightening.

We saw two men carrying a mattress toward the water, so naturally, Taylor and I followed them. About halfway to the water, we stopped, and questioned why we were running toward the water, instead of the elevators in the opposite direction of the water. Milliseconds after this epiphany, we turned around and ran for our lives, and the mattress wielding men followed suit.

We went outside to the front of the building and saw no signs of smoke or fire trucks. There was about 30 other people out there; I’m not sure where everyone else was. After three minutes of mild pandamonium, a policeman came out and made an announcement: “Everyone, the alarm was accidentally triggered on the second floor, there is no fire.”

Taylor turned to me and said “It was probably those guys with the mattress, the mattress probably hit the fire alarm.” I started cracking up because I had actually helped them push the mattress to the elavator. I’m not sure why they were running for their lives if they were the ones that hit the alarm by mistake, but who knows.

When we got back to our door, the section of the hallway where the sprinklers hit was flooded, and it reeked of sulfer. If you don’t know what sulfer smells like, buy some eggs and put them on your counter, and leave them there for six days.

Taylor and I were very grateful that the sprinklers didn’t hit our section of the hallway, because our carpet would have been soaked and we don’t have renter’s insurance. It was a scary experience, but at least we learned a valuable lesson; don’t run toward the fire, run the other way.

By arlingtonchronicles

Nationals Game

On Saturday, Maff and I went  with some of Maff’s former frat brethren to a Nationals baseball game. Five of Maff’s friends just moved into a house in Arlington, so we hung out there before it was time to go to the game. Despite the gorgeous weather outside, everyone sat in the “man cave” (sans windows) and watched two guys play an enthralling game of Halo. Unfortunately, my pure enrapture in witnessing this adrenaline pumping fight to the death was cut short after one hour because we had to walk to the Ballston metro station to get to the stadium.

We arrived at the stadium around 3:15 and started off in a place called the The Bullpen. It’s an enclosed outdoor area where they sell libations and have a live band playing music.

After a drink, we headed into the stadium around 4:00 to watch the Nationals play the Braves.

I am using the term “watch” a little loosley here. Although I was sitting in the stadium, I think I looked at the actual baseball field for a total of 45 seconds, and that was just to take pictures.

I spent most of my time at the game cracking peanut shells and feasting on luscious legumes.  Maff spent his downtime watching the kids in front of us play with a popped balloon. Kids. They were very cute though, and everyone wanted to be their friend, especially Maff.

After the game there was a country concert. It was supposed to be Dierks Bently playing, but apparently he got sick and bailed, so another band took his place. You could have told me their band was called Dierks Bently and I wouldn’t know the difference. I don’t like country music and I didn’t really listen to the concert, but I did not mind having some music playing in the background while we hung out and waited for the stadium to clear out.

After the game, we hung out in the Bull Pen for a little, and Maff and I ate some pizza.

Ross and Natalie

Once we left The Bull pen, we all headed over to Hard Times Cafe. Me and Maff were still hungry of course, so we  ordered nachos. The unfortunate part  is that we found an eaten chicken wing underneath a pile of chips on our plate.  It could have been the restaurant’s fault, or it could have been the fault of Matt’s drunk friend who was savagely eating our nachos. I do not know, but I do have a better understanding of why they call the restaurant Hard Times. I’m going to have a really hard time eating nachos again. It probably won’t be that hard, on second thought, but it was still very gross and unsettling.

After this near death experience, a few of Maff’s friends wanted to go to the Clarendon Ballroom rooftop. We lost about half of the group due to the long line, but the people with heart stuck it out and made it in.

It was lovely weather atop the roof, and I thought it was very enjoyable. Especially because I was in my Nationals gear which includes  sandals instead of my usual six-inch torture mechanisms known by modern-day society as “pumps.” Perhaps because they pump your life with pain and sorrow. We were very tired by time we got home from Clarendon, but it was a great day full of fun (and disgusting) events.

By arlingtonchronicles