Thursday, March 01, 2007

Flesh Dialect

After riding up in the elevator with an awkward executive and having a 3 minute conversation about the weather as a bunch of silly Asian girls walked in at the last second to press 3 extra floors before us, I'm about as dried out as Anna Nicole's salivary glands, but I've totally been a bad blogger.

I'm excited to arrive home this evening and wait for my 9-11pm delivery window for my first ever Fresh Direct. Being that the order is subsidized by my $500 Stuyvesant Town gift card and that our first FD purchase is 25% discounted, I'm pretty pumped that somebody else has to carry 42 beers into my apartment as I kick back and watch them bring in what is supposedly an unnecessary amount of boxes.

Excited as I am, I can't say that sitting in a chair with my hot laptop burning my crotch and overheating my entire body was a pleasant experience. The site definitely was incredibly slow from 10-11pm, as they clearly have bandwidth issues and I was clearly getting more fed up than when I'm stuck in a long line at the Associated at 14th and 1st.

All in all, 25% off saved us about 60 bucks from their higher than normal prices, and I don't know if I'd allow myself to do this on a regular basis. I guess it depends on how ripe or pre-ripe all my fruits and veggies are, as I don't want to either (a) have to use everything in the next 3 days before it goes bad or (b) have to wait a week just for it to get to the proper phase in its existence. Maybe I'll be lucky and they have a system for mixing up the various ripenesses, but I'm definitely full of crap when hoping for that.

I'll let you know how it goes, but all the 1664 French beer has got my panties feelin a little more at ease than normal.


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