I haven't made a post in about a month so this one's long overdue. Back in 1993 when my parents moved to Arizona, my father bestowed upon me some important words of wisdom. He said, "Rick, if you want good chicken, go to Riesbecks. If you want good steak, go to Kroger. And if you want bad fish, go to Giant Eagle." Then he wished me well, jumped in the mini-van and started their journey across the country. Some might think - Wow, what an emotional tear-jerker. I guess that's why Saf wears his emotions on his sleeve. Anyway, let's get past that and examine this statement.
I think we can all agree that Riesbecks is the place for chicken. The fried chicken in their deli is only second best to Safeway. Since there are no Safeways in the area, it takes the number one spot. Regardless of their superior chicken, there is a deep, dark secret about Riesbecks that I must share. I used to work there back in the late 80's, early 90's. I was basically a carry-out, stocked shelves, mopped up apple sauce in aisle 2, etc. Anyway, I was getting ready to go on my break and I saw an elderly man getting a newspaper from the machine outside. I asked him, "Hey, is it alright if I grab one of those (I kind of reached in the machine simultaneously)." He screamed, "Oh no you don't!" and slammed the door on my wrist. I called him a "mother fucking cock-sucker" Needless to say, he went inside and complained to the management. Apparently, my boss didn't appreciate me using that specific type of vulgarity. Anyway, they cut my hours to one shift per week so it would become an exercise in futility. I quit shortly thereafter. So it's obvious that I have mixed feelings about Riesbecks. Nonetheless, I applaud their chicken. An interesting sidenote, I bought an assortment of fried chicken on Wednesday night and I asked them if I could have some paper towels. One woman behind the counter offered me some plastic utensils with the napkins inside. I requested about 6 of them and another woman said, "We'll have to charge him for that." I thought to myself - who the hell charges customers for the individually wrapped fork-knife-spoon-salt-pepper-napkin combo? Then she said, "there are some napkins by the self-serve soup stand." I opted for the napkin approach which worked well.
Kroger is always the best local place to buy steak unless you bring Sam's Club into the picture. Sam's probably has the best, but when my father made the statement, I don't think there was a Sam's Club in St. C. Thus, he is vindicated.
Giant Eagle sucked - always has sucked and always will suck. They boast the worst pseudo-deli in the land. Unless you like shit - olive ham loaf spread and low-end slimy turkey breast come to mind. The brand names are a bit strange too (Sarah Bee instead of Sara Lee, Jennie-Blow instead of Jennie-O... Well, you get the picture. When the flood hit that shithole in Bridgeport, the residents should have celebrated. I say loot and pillage that building of crapulence. Then, treat the employees Abu-Gharaib, wolfman berzerker style. And, my father was correct - their fish sucks. Go to Coleman's or better yet, Wholly's in the Strip.
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5 comments:
I may be missing something but did your father call you Rick?
Yeah, Rick is technically the second 1/2 of my first name. Some people still call me Rick. Matt Mendelson & the Papadimitriou family come to mind. Dave Wheeler calls me Ricky. Thanks for the inquiry. Glad to see someone attentively reads this garbage.
For now on, you shall be known as Rick the Dick.
When I was about five years old, neighborhood kids called me "Ricky Ticky Tavvy". Then, at summer camp when I was about 10, they called me "Safershit". Haven't heard those in a while.
We'll see if "Rick the Dick" has any momentum. Time will tell.
Other nicknames - "Justice" and "Metal" when I was at University of Dayton. And this one weird guy at Wheeling Park used to call me "E-Rock". I just picked up another nickname at Stoney Hollow/First Class - ICEMAN. Got this one becuase I was spotted on the security camera stealing 6 bags of ice at 3am.
You aren't worthy enough to carry Iceman's jock let alone be called Iceman.
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