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with Barry



by Barry Mitchell

Radio free barry
…it’s funny, see a lot of weird things dealing with the food industry, restaurants, markets.
Like now it bothers me if I go to the deli and the guy that waits on me isn’t wearing gloves. I mean, up until a couple years ago, they never wore any protection. But now I notice if he sneezes into his hands or wipes sweat off his face, then slices the meat, really upsetting. Sometimes it’s so bad that after they give me the cold cuts, I walk through the market and throw them away, don’t even pay for it. I’ll admit it. What am I gonna do, tell the manager, get the guy, or gal for that matter, fired, cause I have a problem with it. Maybe other people don’t mind a couple germs in their roast beef and swiss cheese. New indian name: analretentivebeyondbelief.

And I really hate it when I go to the coffee shop and they pick up the cup with their fingers inside the sipping area. Rim if you will. Ever notice that? Why is that? I mean the cup has a blankin’ handle doesn’t it? Why not pick it up by the designated spot? Didn’t some artist work diligently to handcraft a mug that fully utilizes all of it’s space? Does the kid behind the counter think it’ll taste better coming from his golden hands, literally. "Yes I’ll have the Nail Latte to go". Who am I, Andy Rooney?

Thought I saw it all until last week, was in the kitchen of a very exclusive restaurant, not gonna say which one. Law suits r us may I help u? Anyhow, there’s this waiter dishing out ice cream from a 5 lb container. Must have been for a party or something ‘cause he scooped out about 30 cups. After he’s done, he takes (I kid you not, hand to god) two of his fingers, and dips them into the container and yes sports fans, eats a nice chunk of vanilla. Twice. Aha. Talk about double dipping. Thought to myself, if the guy’s that blankin’ hungry, why couldn’t he have used a spoon?

Seriously, say the guy hasn’t eaten for three days, has a weird eating disorder, or craves ice cream on an hourly basis, couldn’t he just use a utensil? Or then again, I’m thinkin’ maybe he actually got off on it, in some sort of perverted, albeit sexual (isn’t it always?) way.

Tell ya the rest of the day I was thinkin’, what else do they do in these kitchens or at those markets or at the meat packing plants. Organic orshamnic my friends. Ya just never know what you’re eating. How many times do ya think the chicken hits the floor, before it ever hits your plate, Mr. Dylan.
I’m just hopin’ at least, they’re blowin’ off the dust.
Upton Sinclair lives! Or is it Sinclair Lewis?
On that note, I’m Barry Mitchell.
And until next time, Be Yourself.

© Barry Mitchell

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