There's an App for that

So as most of you know, I have an f’n iphone. And I love it. Even though my baby is over 5 months old, the novelty has still not worn off – best exemplified when someone asks a random trivia question at dinner (“That makes me wonder, what IS the capital of Sri Lanka?”) and I just pull out my nifty little iPhone under the table when nobody is looking and immediately prove how intelligent and cultured I am.

That being said, I’m always on the prowl for a good app so when I saw “The Girlfriend Keeper” I immediately thought how beneficial this could be for men out there who just can’t seem to remember the color of their girlfriend’s eyes or the date they first met. It’s not that they are bad boyfriends, they just have bad memories! Right?

But as we know, there is a thin line between love and hate. Which sets the stage for the next application that will be inevitably downloaded when you can’t remember an anniversary or when you forget that your girlfriend’s eyes are aquamarine and NOT hazel: The Ex-Girlfriend StalkHer App.

Java

I walked into my local deli on Friday afternoon to pick up a gallon of water. Normally I just use the Brita but it was a particularly hot day and I knew that Jason and I would be drinking a lot more H20 than normal this weekend.

So I walk into the deli, pick up the jug of Poland Spring and bring it to the counter. Another man was already near the register, and he was opening a bottle of Corona he had just purchased. “Well, it is a hot day and he probably just wants to cool off” I thought, as he begins to drink the sweating bottle of booze right there inside the store. But then he started yelling at the cashier about getting him “his cup” and the “one with the cover.”

Alright, a little road soda for a walk down the sidewalk never hurt anyone, right? So I wasn’t too alarmed as this was going on. The cashier comes over with a small coffee cup and hands it to the man. “NO, the BIG cup!” he responds. “The one they ALWAYS give me. MY cup!”

Interesting. This man seems to doggybag his acohohlic beverages on a fairly consistent basis if he has his “own” cup at the deli on Lexington and 25th street. Maybe he has a drinking problem – it’s a shame, but what are you gonna do?

So the cashier shuffles back to the coffee pot and fetches the large coffee cup and cover for the overbearing patron. The man mutters a quick “thanks guy” and then proceeds to pour the rest of his beer into the cup and then places the cover on for maximum sidewalk drinking capacity.

Except he wasn’t planning to drink this on the sidewalk. What I witnessed next was both deeply disturbing and eye-opening. The man turned to the door, took his cup of “coffee” outside, took his keys out, and proceeded to get into his cab. My mouth dropped open as he drove the yellow cab away.

I’m never riding in a cab where I see the driver with a coffee cup again.