Good Grief!

Lunchtime errands at the soulless office park go something like this:

1. Get in the car (walking is an invitation for grumpy motorists to mow your ass down).
2. Cruise down a clogged highway, wondering what kind of sadistic fool designed an entire state that does not allow left-hand turns.
3. Drive to Joe Canal’s Discount Liquor Mart, one of the few bonuses of working in New Jersey (Pennsylvania has some peculiar booze laws, which can happily be circumvented by crossing the state line).
4. Replenish beer supply.
5. Drive to a gloomy strip mall and pick up lunch, stamps, or toilet paper.
6. Repeat the previous step until lunch, stamps, and toilet paper have been obtained.

This is all very exciting, but yesterday it got even better. The Mr. Softee man—not the lascivious one from Philadelphia—has started making rounds in the soulless office park. Does life get any better than this?