Inedible Dilemma

I must say that when New York introduced this whole restaurant grading thing, I was quite taken with it.  In a city with quite literally endless dining options, it’s nice to be able to have an additional element in the decision making process.  NYC requires all restaurants to post their inspection grades in their front windows or doors.  I love seeing those letters, and keep my eyes open for the 800-point font blue “A” that tells me my chosen establishment is as clean as it gets.

Walking home a few months ago I noticed that the pizza place on my block had received its grade: a big green “B.”  I wasn’t sure how to proceed.  The pizza is good.  The guys are friendly.  It’s a three-minute walk from my door.

One friend offered that this place would now be inspected more often, unlike those clean places that the inspectors would probably ignore for a good long while.  Another friend offered to look up the specific violations (yes, this is all public info).  Her thinking was that the violations may be minor, non-food related things that would make me feel better.  I didn’t dare take a chance on looking.  I knew that once I looked, there was no going back.

A few weeks ago, I noticed that the “B” was gone, and in its place was a notice that they were being re-graded.  Problem solved.  I was sure they would become an “A” and I would be able to enjoy the occasional slice in peace.

Last week I saw it.  The big orange “C.”  And, like everyplace I’ve seen with that letter out front, it’s empty.  I couldn’t help myself: I looked up their violations.  And what started out as a dilemma has been definitely solved. 

Anyone have a recommendation for a new pizza place?

Odd Jobs

As I glanced a critical eye over the office bathroom, I realized that no one here knows I have a background in the janitorial arts.  And that got me thinking about all the other jobs that never made it to my resume.  Read more here.

Call me an Instigator

One of the ways I amuse myself on public transportation is by attempting to make small children laugh.  I test the waters with a quick smile and fleeting eye contact.  If the child seems receptive (and the mom doesn’t seem pre-disposed to irrational anger), I move into material.  My repertoire isn’t broad.  I start out with smiles of escalating size, move through variations on peek-a-boo, and wind up in a series of silly faces.  If all goes well, I can keep the average 2-year-old entertained for about two subway stops.

Last night there was an adorable little boy sitting across from me on the subway.  (My best guess is that he was 18-24 months old.)  He couldn’t stop laughing and smiling at me, even when I was just sitting there.  So of course I played along.  His mom got in on the action by holding her son’s hands over his eyes so he was playing peek-a-boo back.  Somewhere along the way he got a little too rambunctious.  I hadn’t noticed, but I know this to be the case because his mom started reprimanding him.  Apparently when the little boy got laughing, he was bumping into the man seated next to him.  Mom considered this extremely rude.  When the boy didn’t immediately stop, she pinched the back of his leg.  And big tears started rolling down his cheeks.

This is not the first time I found myself in this situation.  Last fall I witnessed a little girl on the bus get slapped by her mother after I got her too wound up.

So now I’m wondering if I’m to blame.  Neither of these children was behaving in a way that I thought required correction, let alone physical reprimand, so I’m not sure I could have predicted this outcome. 

Should I just go back to reading Scottish Life and pretending that I don’t see anyone?