Can you please please make a rolling video like the one for Super Pollo? Maybe just down to the Aldi's and back or something. Start simple, ya know. It'll be easier than a cooking video!


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Tdarcos wrote:So tell me, I'd like to know. How do I, on the basis of nothing more than words said and no other additional information, distinguish between a serious inquiry and a rhetorical question?

Just follow your nose!

Tdarcos wrote:

pinback wrote:You know, people hate when you do this.

Then don't ask a question if you don't want an answer. "Are these guys amateurs?" If you already know the answer, then why waste our time asking the question in the first place?

Because it was a RHETORICAL QUESTION in the service of HUMOR, you fucking lunatic. But you don't understand either of these concepts, so trying to explain it to you for the ten millionth time is as useless as all the other times.

So tell me, I'd like to know. How do I, on the basis of nothing more than words said and no other additional information, distinguish between a serious inquiry and a rhetorical question?

You, personally, do not. It's something everyone else just does naturally. This is what we've all been trying to tell you. These words like "ironic" and "rhetorical", these are things which, like a robot trying to understand love, you know the written definition of, but can never truly experience.

pinback wrote:You know, people hate when you do this.

Then don't ask a question if you don't want an answer. "Are these guys amateurs?" If you already know the answer, then why waste our time asking the question in the first place?

So let me ask you, since you seem to be an expert in this matter, please explain to me how to tell the difference between what appears to be a serious question, like, "how do these guys manage not to get food or their clothes, or why don't they wear something? " vs. "don't these guys realize they'd be better off changing after eating?"

This is a written medium. There's no tone of voice, no facial clues, no secondary information to determine whether someone is making a serious question vs. a rhetorical one. and thus the only thing you can tell is by their words themselves.

So tell me, I'd like to know. How do I, on the basis of nothing more than words said and no other additional information, distinguish between a serious inquiry and a rhetorical question?

By the way, I had heard Loudoun County, about 40 miles away (where I lived in 2007), was much richer by median household income than Arlington.

Tdarcos wrote:

Flack wrote:I just got back from the hotel breakfast. There were roughly 20 people down there and over half of them were wearing suits. Are these guys amateurs? I don't put mine on until after breakfast. No sense in going in to DOT headquarters with Fruit Loops on my shirt.

For a lot of very high-priced people, they're on power breakfasts or power lunches, they don't have the extra ten to fifteen minutes to go back to a room and change. This presumes they are staying at the hotel, they might be meeting a client who is staying there.

You know, people hate when you do this. I know it's the only way you know how to communicate, but I'm telling you, as a friend, people cannot STAND when you (or anyone else) does this. Listen close:

Not everything is an invitation for you to EXPLAIN things.

Mainly because (in your case) everyone usually already knows it, but left it unsaid because either 1) it wasn't important to the conversation, 2) it was assumed everyone ELSE already knew it too, 3) they were speaking ironically.

I know you can't stop it, but please stop it.

Flack wrote:I just got back from the hotel breakfast. There were roughly 20 people down there and over half of them were wearing suits. Are these guys amateurs? I don't put mine on until after breakfast. No sense in going in to DOT headquarters with Fruit Loops on my shirt.

For a lot of very high-priced people, they're on power breakfasts or power lunches, they don't have the extra ten to fifteen minutes to go back to a room and change. This presumes they are staying at the hotel, they might be meeting a client who is staying there.

If you're going to eat while wearing nice clothes, either you've learned how to be careful or only eat things in such a fashion that they cannot stain your clothes (a sweet roll or honey bun wrapped in a (paper) napkin) or you wear a napkin (cloth, preferably) over your chest (like a bib) so you protect your suit from messes.

Based on the cars and people I see on the street, I assume so.

I just checked Wikipedia and found this: " It is the highest-income county in the United States by median family income."

So... yes.

I just got back from the hotel breakfast. There were roughly 20 people down there and over half of them were wearing suits. Are these guys amateurs? I don't put mine on until after breakfast. No sense in going in to DOT headquarters with Fruit Loops on my shirt.

That sounds like a very surreal experience. Is Arlington a rich suburb?

Their website has a YouTube video for the place:

[youtube][/youtube]

Super Pollo is a Peruvian restaurant located near our nation's capitol. There are four locations. Tonight, for dinner, I went to one in Arlington, VA.

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I guess I assumed this place would be Mexican, what with "pollo" and all. Instead it's mostly Peruvian. I don't recognize any of the dishes on the list of specials, but off to the side I see burritos and tacos so I figure I'm safe. All the burritos are marked $7.99, with an "8" written in marker over the 7.

There are four dining areas. Three of them (to the left, to the right, and outside) are empty; the fourth is front and center and home to a large HD television which is showing the FIFA finals. This is where everybody is. There are 8 tables here and the 6 closest to the television are taken. A few people are standing up to watch the game. Most of the employees are either leaning or sitting on the counter.

I order my burrito from a short woman who speaks broken English. I also order a drink and a dessert. I'm not sure what the dessert thing is; it's some sort of sandwich cookie thing with chocolate in the middle. She tries to tell me what it is but I can't understand her words. I nod approvingly and she takes one out of the glass case.

I sit down at one of the two available tables. I quickly realize that not only is everyone inside the restaurant speaking Spanish, but the game is on the Spanish channel as well. Including the staff there are a dozen people in the restaurant. Not everyone sitting together at tables seem to be there together. At one point I'm pretty sure I hear the word "Americana" and a couple of guys look at me. They do not want to challenge me to a burrito eating contest. Not today.

Occasionally I look out the window. Every time I do, a tow truck pulling an expensive car goes by. First, it's towing a BMW. Two minutes later he goes by again, hauling a Mercedes. Two minutes later, it's another BMW. I have no idea what's going on but there are going to be a lot of pissed off rich people in a few minutes.

I look up and my burrito has arrived, along with a side of french fries. "Tank you baby," the lady says. I figure out that she calls everybody "baby," unless you're holding up the line; then it's "sir."

I also get two small cups of sauce -- one green, one yellow. I quickly figure out the green one is hot sauce. I assume the yellow one is for the fries. It's mustardy, but not quite mustard.

Suddenly, Germany scores a goal! Just like in the movies, the woman closest to the television jumps up on her chair and screams, "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!" Others begin chanting "GER-MAN-EE! GER-MAN-EE!" I don't know why I had assumed they would be rooting for Argentina. My geography skills are not so good.

I get ready to take my first bite of the burrito and glance out the window. The tow truck has snagged himself a Porsche.

The burrito is awesome. Much less dough than Chipotle or those other places. The chicken inside is moist, and the green sauce is spicy but not too spicy. Which is good because I don't think this place has free refills. The fries are good and hot but I wish they had ketchup. Fries with mustard, hrm.

I soon realize that out of 12 people, only two of us are eating -- me, and one of the guys sitting on the counter. Everyone else either has "to go" orders sitting on their table, or nothing at all.

The tow truck goes by pulling a Camaro.

A few minutes later, the game ends. Every one stands up cheering and high-fiving one another. These people either really love Germany or really hate Argentina. Within a minute or two all of them are gone save for two guys who are sticking around for the post game interviews.

I finish my burrito, french fries, and drink all at the same time. The crowd is changing now; two women with yoga mats are waiting to order while three guys, all wearing moving company shirts, are complaining because the restaurant is out of soup.

"We're all out, baby," says the lady.

"Maaaaaan, can't you just make some more?" asks one of the guys.

"Pick something else, sir," she responds.

I dump my tray in the trash and look around in case anyone says "thanks for coming!" Nobody does.

I step outside the restaurant. Kids in a park across the street are playing soccer.

The tow truck drives by, hauling a Corvette.

The burrito was terrific.