What is left?

Every left-handed writer, especially those who [try to] write humor, has written this column. The world is conspiring against us with awkward tools that we can use to kill ourselves, like right handed scissors or chainsaws. They are right, you know. It is probably the reason there are so few of us around. They do tell us (other left-handed people, that is) that there are more left-handed geniuses, per capita, than right-handed ones. I believe it, because we have to be smarter, on account of all the deadly instruments. Natural selection, really.

There are a lot of other things out there, too, that are designed for the less sinister of us. (Sinister is the Latin word for left [dexter is right]. Isn't that wild? The Romans thought we were evil! I assure you that we are not. Or is that just the sort of thing that an evil person would say to deceive the masses?) A lot of them are things you don't really think about. My friend has been complaining (a lot) that the whammy bar on his Xbox 360 Guitar Hero Les Paul is not suited for left-handed rocking out (I only have the Rock Band Stratocaster). Who would have thought that Guitar Hero would discriminate?

The thing that set me off on this (most recently) is my coffee mug. It is a Rose-Hulman mug that I got for free that proclaims our greatness via US News and World Report (we're #1!) vintage 2003. If I want to show that proclamation to the world, I have to hold it with my left-hand, meaning that I cannot write while I drink my crappy hot tea. Why else would I have a mug with a message that bragadocious, if not to show it off to the world? Actually, now that I think about it, if I have to use my left hand, does that make it left-handed? I'm so confused now.

Just like I was when trying to figure out on which hand to wear my watch around Christmas time. Pants are also right-handed. Left-hand drive cars are right-handed. Most desks are right-handed, so much so that the first time I found a left-handed desk in a classroom I got really excited and was determined to sit in it, regardless of where it was in the classroom. So I did, even though it was stacked on top of three other desks.

I am the only person I know who puts my mouse on the left side of the computer. You can always tell where I sat in the computer lab, and people will freak out if I don't put it back. I'm sorry to disrupt your apple cart, Mr. Right-hander, but welcome to our world, but it's all part of our sinister plan. I mean, there is no plan.

Invented by Terrorists: Pay Wi-Fi

I went to Starbucks this evening, because I have not yet discovered a local coffeeshop that does not require me to drive like 8 miles. I recognize that it is a Friday and I am doing a rather solitary activity, but it's the weekend before Thanksgiving and everyone I know is out of town. I mean that in the most literal sense possible; every single person I know is not in town right now.

But I went over to the Maw of the Beast and bought myself an ironically named tea -- Awake -- and opened up my laptop, connected to the wireless network and couldn't figure out why my AIM client wouldn't log in. The reason, it turns out, is that they make you pay for it now. I have just one question: What do I look like, a gullibull? Thumbs down, my friends, thumbs down.

Guess what else: it's really expensive. They wanted to charge me $10 for 24 hours of connection on their precious network. That's like half the cost of the service for the month. I'm already paying twice as much as I should for a mediocre Grande tea, (I know they've been doing this forever with their Italian and what not, but I never understood why the middle size is large) and you want me to shell out more money to use the internet? It's like they think they're a bar. Except people go to bars to get rejected by women. There were only high schoolers at this Starbucks and they didn't even have a hot bartender. Or barista. I forgot where I was in this analogy.

I heard on the news today that Starbucks is suffering from a decline in customers for the first time in like forver. That's what happens when you screw people. All those years of successfully trying to take over the world got to your head, didn't it Starbucks? Well look at you now. You'll be like that hot girl who never got into serious relationships because her life was going so well and her career was too good, but it all came crashing down when she couldn't keep up with expectations and got involved with coke and will die bitter and alone, with a face and body wrecked by all the hard livin'. You won't get any sympathy from me, Starbucks. Not this time.