On the environmental hazards posed by the industrial-scale production of scrambled eggs
Kickin' back in a hotel bar, perusing Peter Mansfield's A History of the Middle East, sipping a worthy though far from outstanding brew. Decent sorta place. But a very, very loud tourist type chick, fortiesh/fiftiesh, is drinking with a boisterous bunch at the bar, beltin' out every laugh like it's a proclamation to be heeded unto the four corners of the world. She is deafening. I have now learned entirely more than I could possibly have wanted to know about her various spats with her in-laws, her dogs, her preference for catalogue shopping...
What can ya do. My lovely wife and the little one are sleeping; would be rude to read and/or tap away in the room, where such behaviour might wake either.
Hotels. Resisted the temptation to write a predictable 'all airports are the same' thang a week or two back. So I'm due for a hotel observations thing.
'Cept I've nothing profound to point out, really. Except that the hotel breakfast buffet is now so standardized I have begun to suspect that actually, there's just one enormous kitchen somewhere, serving every hotel in the world. They make the scrambled eggs in gigantic vats--several thousand metric tonnes of the stuff, which is then shipped in container trucks to regional hubs, where they break it up into wooden crates full of the steel, lidded containers you see in the hotel eatery. So many shells must be cracked and disposed of to generate this massive volume of protein and cholesterol that their diposal has created a unique environmental hazard around this mythical kitchen--the calcium leaching into the local soil from the shells has reached such concentrations in the area that even the plants have teeth...
Ah, the loud one just stumbled past me, enroute to her room. The hotel lobby ambient sound returns to the standard low key burble. It is becoming the 'late night in the hotel' scene. A few folk, here and there, still sittin at the bar, negotiating sex over drinks.
No, I've no comment on the Mansfield as yet. Just getting started.
Been trying to learn Arabic, in fits and starts. Which, of course, is precisely the worst possible way to learn a language. Really have to stop that.
Francophone party strolls past, a sound of home--speaking of languages I never quite learned as well as I probably should have.
I suppose it would be wise to sleep sometime this eve.
What can ya do. My lovely wife and the little one are sleeping; would be rude to read and/or tap away in the room, where such behaviour might wake either.
Hotels. Resisted the temptation to write a predictable 'all airports are the same' thang a week or two back. So I'm due for a hotel observations thing.
'Cept I've nothing profound to point out, really. Except that the hotel breakfast buffet is now so standardized I have begun to suspect that actually, there's just one enormous kitchen somewhere, serving every hotel in the world. They make the scrambled eggs in gigantic vats--several thousand metric tonnes of the stuff, which is then shipped in container trucks to regional hubs, where they break it up into wooden crates full of the steel, lidded containers you see in the hotel eatery. So many shells must be cracked and disposed of to generate this massive volume of protein and cholesterol that their diposal has created a unique environmental hazard around this mythical kitchen--the calcium leaching into the local soil from the shells has reached such concentrations in the area that even the plants have teeth...
Ah, the loud one just stumbled past me, enroute to her room. The hotel lobby ambient sound returns to the standard low key burble. It is becoming the 'late night in the hotel' scene. A few folk, here and there, still sittin at the bar, negotiating sex over drinks.
No, I've no comment on the Mansfield as yet. Just getting started.
Been trying to learn Arabic, in fits and starts. Which, of course, is precisely the worst possible way to learn a language. Really have to stop that.
Francophone party strolls past, a sound of home--speaking of languages I never quite learned as well as I probably should have.
I suppose it would be wise to sleep sometime this eve.
posted by AJM at 11:45 p.m. (Permanent Link)
