But we NEED you, J.F.--You're our best and only friend!

I think that it's high time to point out that the Rochester Road Taco Bell has a garbage can that quite possibly embodies the spirit of Blade Runner's J.F. Sebastian. The humble pause, the heartfelt, "Thuank Yeww." I almost expect it to add, "Pris." It sounds just like him, gosh darn it. What really got me suspicious was that the trash can across the restaurant proclaimed as I dumped a tray, "He say you brade runnah!"

Funny. The Livernois Taco Ball has nothing like it.

Honestly though, it's become a Sunday Tradition. All us pals meet up there, and have gotten to know the staff by... well, the names we give them. There's "Lord of the Nerds," or alternately, "Nerd Lord." We humbly bow before his superior nerdiness. He has that particular longish hair and those particular big eighties glasses and that perfect semi-social-ineptness that all add up to nerdy charm. When we ask for cinnamon twist, he pauses for effect, then does a little dance behind the register, ending with a used-car-salesman type thumbs up... "What about a rhumbaaa?" Much respect to the Nerd Lord.

There's also Cheerful Black Music Guy. He's always in a good mood. Not to be confused with Ineffectual, Grumpy, Furtively Look Around When You Drop Someone's Food on the Floor and Sigh and Start Over When You Realize People are Watching Guy.
(self explaintory) Once, on my way though the drive though, I sat at the first window and watched while Cheerful Black Music Guy sold one of his homemade cds to the drive though customer ahead of me. Impressive. I was tempted to ask for one too, but I'd run out of money. Maybe someday. Another time, my head almost exploded and my universe was shifted alarmingly with the sight of Cheerful Black Music guy chatting with some people at the counter at McDonald's. Stars aligned. Planets crossed paths. Dimesions shifted. As I recovered from my shock, I watched him sell a cd to the people working there. More power to you, CBMG.

There are not many terrible things about a Mac keyboard. I have a rather slick one that's all see-throughy. Except that I can SEE all the dust and crumbs and crap that inexplicably makes its way from all over the house to nestle in the corners of my keyboard. It drives me crazy-go-nuts. I'm always so careful not to eat at the computer etc etc... So I used my can of compressed air to blow all the crap to the underside of the keyboard. There. Better. brrr. My obsessive compulsive streak still whimpers about it sometimes.