All I really need to know...

... I learned at local franchised restaurants.

Some people say they learned their "stuff" in kindergarten. But I beg to differ with those people. I learn my stuff at restaurants I frequent with some degree of regularity.

Today, I walked into Doc Green's, a local salad eatery with the best friggin' "build your own" salads I've ever put in my pouty little mouth.

My friend Doc? He knows his greens. He also knows that I do so enjoy my hankering for field greens with almond slivers, bleu cheese, strawberries, almonds, one hard-boiled egg and raspberry vinaigrette dressing. But I digress.

Today, I walked into Doc Green's, and the pretty lady behind the counter greeted me immediately! "Hello, Lindsay!"

"Oh!" (Oh my!). "Hello!" I said with a smile.

This lady was much better than Nate. Because, if you recall from my journey into hot dog land earlier this summer, Nate sucked.

So I put in my order and made my way around the counter. At the register, she said "You know, you always come in here smiling! And so fresh looking!" (I was wondering if all this salad lingo was going to her head...)

"Wow!" I replied. "Thank you so much." This was very nice icing on an otherwise-drab day.

Then, to top it all off, she gave me a discount on my salad! Sure, it was only two bucks... but those are two bucks I can use elsewhere and, really, it was about the gesture more than anything.

I walked out of Doc Green's a little bit happier than when I walked in. That lady made me feel special.

Rewind to last week when I did a quick grab-and-go lunch at the Quizno's just down the street from my office.

The manager on duty, Dan (whom I call "inconspicuous Dan" to his face, because he scribbled his name on his name tag in such a way that it might say "Doo" or "Daaaa" or the ever popular "D-squiggly-line"), remembered my name when I walked in the door too!

I walked in, and Dan exclaimed, "It's Lindsay Apple!" (Note to all of you in the witness protection program: don't make friends with Dan.)

Just as I did today, I smiled and laughed and told Dan I was happy to see him. And do you know what? Dan gave me a discount on my sandwich! Just like that! Bam-- 15% off at Quizno's!

These people. Are. So. Nice!

So I just want to throw this out there for the world. I just learned two things:

1. Be nice to people. Smile at them and ask them about their days. Random strangers, people you know, whatever. Because, I'll be darned, they remember it. And then they give you random compliments and discounted food.

and 2. Maybe I eat out too much.

Why I'm Still Single, Part 1

I recently stumbled upon an article called "100 Reasons Why You Are Still Single". Or something like that. And, being a 20-something single (aka not married) gal, this caught my eye.

Often, I peruse the interwebs for interesting tidbits, and I had been directed to a website called "RADAR" by a friend. Apparently, this website contains all sorts of interesting items for internet reading pleasure... and boasts it is the guru on all things "Pop, Politics, Scandal and Style". Sounds like a pretty solid place to get my read on.

So, here's what I found. And this list... well, this list requires commentary I can't give right now. But trust me, the commentary will come. Soon.

Why are you still single? Possibly because you...

1. Call Grey's Anatomy simply "Grey's"

2.Have entertained the notion that "the Axe Effect" is real

3.Own tie-dyed gym clothes

4. Purchased your dining room set with Marlboro Miles

5. Are only gay when you're drunk

6. Have written poetry inside a Starbucks

7. Wink in a rakish manner each time you tell a joke

8. Have a ferret on your shoulder

9. Call sex "the squishy squish"

10. Are Courtney Love

11. Hug amusement park mascots

12. Address acquaintances as "guy"

13. Use emoticons in handwritten letters

14. Own a "It's Not Going to Suck Itself" T-shirt

15. Initiate line dances

16. Have only one pickup line: "Why the long face?"

17. Posed shirtless for your MySpace page

18. Can't stop missing Anna Nicole

19. Scream out Wheel of Fortune answers

20. Call your therapist from work on speakerphone

21. Won't travel anywhere out of "blading distance"

22. Sleep on WWF sheets

23. Begin stories with, "I'm not a stalker, but ..."

24. Snack on Bac-Os

25. Know someone who knows someone who knows the Geico caveman

26. Flash devil horns in wedding photos

27. Eat with one arm guarding your plate

28. Refer to your PDA as a "Crackberry"

29. Have a dartboard in your kitchen

30. Own a calendar featuring babies dressed as cowboys

31. Call October "Rocktober"

32. Keep a dream journal

33. Own slot-machine gloves

34. Are the president of a fan club

35. Weave and distribute friendship bracelets

36. Have a "lucky" garter hanging from your rearview mirror

37. Prefer the "fist bump" when meeting strangers and always insist they "lock it in"

38. Refuse to remove your Bluetooth earpiece during sex

39. Take off work each year to celebrate Cinco de Mayo; are Irish

40. Have a disturbingly high thetan count

41. Display your framed degree from bartending school

42. Have been edited out of several Girls Gone Wild videos

43. Converse with angels

44. Refer to Target as "Tar-Jay"

45. Have ever said: "That's sooo Sagittarius"

46. Feel most comfortable in Tevas and jorts

47. Have a five o'clock shadow, on your ass

48. Wear a "No Spin Zone" windbreaker

49. Cry when you listen to Belle and Sebastian, then, still tearful, blog about it

50. Use an electronic device to smoke pot

51. Call underwear "panties"

52. Have more than zero stuffed animals on your bed

53. Live by two sartorial rules: pleated, stonewashed

54. Display samurai swords in your office

55. Think the energy crisis can be solved with crystals

56. Have ever dressed up as a penis or tampon for Halloween

57. Own a 60-inch flat-screen plasma television but sleep on a broken futon

58. Have taken more than one cell phone picture of your genitals

59. Close all correspondence with "Prayerfully Yours"

60. Consider Maroon 5 sort of "your group"

61. TiVo'd the entire run of Criss Angel Mindfreak

62. Use the word "scrumptious"

63. Have a Tasmanian Devil "tramp stamp"

64. List "Dungeon Master" on your business card

65. Carry an All Things Considered tote bag

66. Wouldn't be the person you are today without Mitch Albom's Tuesdays with Morrie

67. Subscribe to any massive multiplayer online gaming experience

68. Take advantage of the eight-at-a-time Netflix option

69. Have a rhyming nickname

70. Sold your forehead to goldenpalace.com

71. Have a "LaRouche '08" bumper sticker

72. Have taken a course on improving your oral sex technique

73. Will do anything for "shits and giggles"

74. Collect throwing stars

75. Have a bedside stack of Sudoku books

76. Can only make love to the Mighty Mighty Bosstones

77. Are infamous among your coworkers for your dead-on Baba Booey impression

78. Own all 24 volumes of Now That's What I Call Music!

79. Are O.J. Simpson

80. Have a screensaver of you posing with your Frisbee golf bros

81. Refuse to drink any beer that hasn't been "beechwood aged"

82. Have cellulite on your face

83. Refer to yourself as a "vagitarian"

84. Have a Web shrine devoted to a long- deceased pet

85. Consider riddles a great way to break the ice

86. Purchase meals solely for their tie-in products

87. Get visibly angry during Apple vs. PC debates

88. Are known among your girlfriends as "Heavy Flow"

89. Feel you've found the deeper meaning behind Meatloaf's "Paradise by the Dashboard Light"

90. Own all the Matrix novelizations

91. Raise iguanas

92. Posted your profile on Sean Hannity's "Hannidate"; are black

93. Have a "Peeing Calvin" decal on your hatchback

94. Work at Radar

95. Are learning to play the bagpipes

96. Don't like Insane Clown Posse's music per se, but think their philosophy is sound

97. Phone in long-distance radio dedications

98. Posted a Craigslist "Missed Connections" ad to find the kid who groped you on the subway

99. Believe the mouth is self-cleaning

100. Have had something on your face since the late '90s

Why yes... they call him The Streak

Lately, too many times to count, I have been reminded of the Ray Stevens song "The Streak," brought to glory in days of old.

Spank me if I'm wrong, but I'm fairly certain this song was made popular in the mid-1970s and sparked a national (international?) movement of nude running at sporting events and other public gatherings. Again, pardon my assumptions, but it seems that most of the individuals who felt so inspired to publicly display their wobbly bits were... um... er... usually not exactly the people one wanted to see running around in all the glory mother nature intended.

Well. Guess what?

Ray Stevens' legacy lives on. And it lives on right in my very back yard.

It seems I live in the midst of a semi-nudist colony. Only, I live in the suburbs... in an upscale apartment community... in the middle of one of the fastest-growing areas of the country... amongst some of the most well-educated 20- and 30- somethings I've ever encountered in my sweet little Southern life.

The thing is, there are quite a few characters who fit the bill.

Let me paint you a picture.

Nudist #1. We'll call him Paolo. Paolo isn't one who prances around fully nude in broad daylight... but he might as well. Paolo is of Latin descent and graces us with his presence by the pool every Saturday afternoon wearing nothing more than a pair of Speedo briefs. Now, this is lovely... and would be particularly lovely if Paolo were interested in women. However, the briefs?

Well, they're white. 'Nuff said.

Nudist #2. We'll call her Vivienne. Vivienne is an incredibly attractive, petite blonde. She's in her mid-twenties and she's feisty in the best possible way... whatever way that is.

Vivienne likes to wait until the sun sets and jump into the swimming pool (which resides in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by about 50 apartments with large windows with a skybox view) completely and utterly au natural. She jumps in, she floats about, she calls out to her friends... regardless of their location or proximity to the swimming pool. She sees neighbors watching her through binoculars from across the parking lot.. and she. does. not. care.

Praise all that is good and holy, for this, we love Vivienne. Secretly, I think we all want to BE Vivienne.

Nudist #3. We are going to call him the on-purpose-but-I'm-going-to-act-surprised-when-my-bits-make-a-public-debut nudist. OPBIGTAS for short.

Now, the first time OPBIGTAS made an appearance, it was within the four walls of another resident's apartment. People were hanging out, dancing, participating in general merriment. All of the sudden, from out of nowhere... BAM!

OPBIGTAS bursts into the room wearing a teeny tiny pair of women's underwear.

For the record, OPBIGTAS is not a woman... though on occasion, he may secretly wish he were. ;)

Now, one may argue that if one is wearing undergarments, regardless of one's gender and the intended gender for said undergarments, that one is not, in fact, nude. However. I beg to differ.

Wait for it.

OPBIGTAS was wearing a thong.

I'm going to let you take a moment to let that soak in.

See that mental image you're getting right now? Yes. That's it.

There was, in essence, visual nudity. OPBIGTAS knew it. Everyone in the room knew it. There was really no getting around it.

But, kind soul, this was not an isolated incident. OPBIGTAS likes a fine ladies' garment, and he knows one when he sees one.

Several evenings ago, OPBIGTAS was out by the pool. (With Vivienne, no doubt, because would we really expect Vivienne to stay at home on such an evening?)

OPBIGTAS found an abandoned red dress amidst the pink donut floats and one large, grey, inflatable swan.

...
...
...

OPBIGTAS disappeared. Huh.

Then, re-emerged wearing... the dress. This is fine enough. Not a huge deal.

Only...
He was wearing nothing under the dress.

This was fine enough too. Until he decided to cut a flip into the pool.

Gravity took over.

I'll leave the rest to your imagination.





And this... is where I live.

You want some fries to go with that shake?

Well... ladies and gents... this is it. I have decided that I am officially old.

In approximately 37 days (but who's counting?), I'm going to be 27. But the number... well, the number is not what bothers me one bit.

I'm not a big numbers gal. I can't remember what I made on the SAT, I'm not sure what a gallon of milk costs, and I went 26 and a half years of my life without owning a scale. Furthermore, I don't care how much money you make, as long as it's enough to make you happy and support your habit.

Really, I think there are only two numbers I think about on a regular basis. 5, because that's the time I aim to leave the office everyday, and 8, because if I get any fewer hours of sleep than that, I'm a cranky-meanie-whiney-pants. And you know who likes a cranky-meanie-whiney pants? I'll give you a hint. It's the same amount of people who "put Baby in a corner."

But I digress. Let's get back to the point at hand: My old age and the fact that this old gal ain't what she used to be.

I base this statement on one thing and one thing only, and here's the story.

I went dancing on Saturday night. Nothing fancy-- I didn't salsa or tango, though there were likely elements of those moves somewhere in the mix when we started doing the Cuban (aka Cupid) Shuffle.

No, I went out with my peeps and we did some straight-up, old fashioned booty dancing. If you are confused, I suggest you go here: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Booty+Dance

Today, my friends, is Wednesday. And what night did we go out? Saturday. Saturday night... to Wednesday morning. And do you know what? MY friggin' HIP hurts. I have had all these days to recover, but dog-gone-it, I think I threw something out.

I realized I had done something very, very wrong on Sunday afternoon when I went to the mall. Walking across the sporting goods store, I felt something in my left hip lock up. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Ok, Apple, walk it out," I told myself. But I couldn't. Right there in the middle of the sports bras, I had to stop walking and take a few deep breaths. Son of a... I felt like I had a peg leg that I had to drag behind me. Not cool.

Carry that feeling over into this morning, when I almost tripped walking into work because my left leg didn't want to cooperate with my brain.

Now I'm sitting here in my lovely little ergonomic chair thinking... seriously? When did this happen to me?

I am miffed. And I refuse to go down without a fight. Notice to my joints: it's on!!!

Something's Rotten in the State of Denmark

Ever wonder what would have happened had Hamlet lived today? Welcome to Sarah Schmelling's version of this.

If Hamlet had Facebook:

Horatio thinks he saw a ghost.

Hamlet thinks it's annoying when your uncle marries your mother right after your dad dies.

The king thinks Hamlet's annoying.

Laertes thinks Ophelia can do better.

Hamlet's father is now a zombie.

- - - -

The king poked the queen.

The queen poked the king back.

Hamlet and the queen are no longer friends.

Marcellus is pretty sure something's rotten around here.

Hamlet became a fan of daggers.

- - - -

Polonius says Hamlet's crazy ... crazy in love!

Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Hamlet are now friends.

Hamlet wonders if he should continue to exist. Or not.

Hamlet thinks Ophelia might be happier in a convent.

Ophelia removed "moody princes" from her interests.

Hamlet posted an event: A Play That's Totally Fictional and In No Way About My Family

The king commented on Hamlet's play: "What is wrong with you?"

Polonius thinks this curtain looks like a good thing to hide behind.

Polonius is no longer online.

- - - -

Hamlet added England to the Places I've Been application.

The queen is worried about Ophelia.

Ophelia loves flowers. Flowers flowers flowers flowers flowers. Oh, look, a river.

Ophelia joined the group Maidens Who Don't Float.

Laertes wonders what the hell happened while he was gone.

- - - -

The king sent Hamlet a goblet of wine.

The queen likes wine!

The king likes ... oh crap.

The queen, the king, Laertes, and Hamlet are now zombies.

Horatio says well that was tragic.

Fortinbras, Prince of Norway, says yes, tragic. We'll take it from here.

Denmark is now Norwegian.