My Guilt-trip to You, the Reader

A lot of companies have a pledge to their customers that they will provide a quality product, or they will do their best to keep the customer happy, or some other nonsense. This is not one of those. This is to make you appreciate more of what I do for you day-in and day-out.

Dear RoSA Readers,

As I stood in line at Chipotle the other day, deciding on whether I wanted a Barbacoa or a Carnitas burrito, I glanced down at the Judas Priest concert t-shirt I was wearing and thought to myself: "What the hell was I thinking when I put this thing on before I went out into public?"

Tracing back my thought processes, I think I tried to justify the decision by saying that it was hot outside, and that the butt rock t-shirt was so tissue paper-thin it was like I wasn't even putting another layer of clothing on. It would keep me cool.

The more I thought about how stupid that reason was, I realized the real reason I had done it: I had no blog-worthy material that week, and was sub-consciously hoping that wearing Judas Priest in a public place would serve as a catalyst for something interesting.

(Yes. You're reading that correctly)

As it turned out, nothing happened. I've never been so disappointed with the expectations of an idea that has such great potential, but that ultimately ends up being a colossal letdown (perhaps with the exception of the Wolverine movie). I was hoping for something from my fellow Chipotle'ers: Suspicious glares; a hurled insult; extra meat in my burrito because the employees think I'm homeless based on appearance. The best would have been jaws dropped aghast in shock -- a la Arnold walking into the bar butt naked in Terminator 2 (see below). But really, I would have taken anything.





Shoot, even a brawl with some angry bikers who didn't like Judas Priest when they were growing up would have made a great story...you know, after I got out of the hospital.

Nothing.

Like I said. You'd better appreciate what I do for you, readers.