Mossy Cottage Knits

I'm Supposed To Do WHAT?

This weekend I watched “Pleasantville,” one of my favorite movies, and the theme of being in a place that is 100% familiar yet 100% unfamiliar reminded me of my first experience at a fast-food restaurant. Understand now, because I grew up overseas and only permanently moved to the States at college-age, I didn’t go to a fast-food restaurant until I was, oh, 18, a fact which usually brings gasps of disbelief from my friends.

Knowing how bizarre the experience would be, having been a fast-food virgin himself a few years previously, my brother took me to my first fast-food restaurant more as part of a sightseeing and educational expedition than as an effort to get any lunch. And thank goodness for him and his explanations, or I would have starved to death right there, on the floor, in the middle of McDonald's.

Imagine what I saw or, better yet, didn't see: No maitre-d’ or hostess, no utensils or napkins carefully set out on tables, no waiters, no bus boys, no menus, no twee little baskets of bread, no glasses of refreshing ice water, no overstuffed booths, no strategically placed walls shielding the patrons from the kitchen noise—nothing, in fact, that even remotely resembled a restaurant. Imagine how wide-eyed I must have gotten as my brother explained how it all worked, how you stand in any one of multiple haphazard lines, you pick something to eat from a huge word- and picture-board that towers over your head, every item on which starts with "Mc," you tell the person behind the counter what you want to eat, he shouts the order into a microphone, you leave the line and mingle in a lost fashion with the other people who have already put in their orders, and two minutes later someone slaps on the counter your meal—a small orange tray with an amorphous lumpy something wrapped in wax-y, tinfoil-y paper, greasy French fries in a cardboard container, and a drink in a wax cup. Then you go to a haphazard little station, you procure some ketchup in tiny plastic packets, a napkin, and a straw, and you eat at a mustard-color table that is barely large enough for two average-sized adults. Then you take your little orange tray, tip it into the maw of a large garbage receptacle, slap the tray on top of the receptacle and head back to your car. Elapsed time? 7 minutes, 42 seconds.

In my defense, I wasn’t the only who suffered from culture shock. Ask my sister about the time the order-taker wouldn’t take her order because my sister refused to say “McChicken,” because it was just too stupid of a word. Either too stupid, or so funny that she laughed so hard she was left breathless, wheezy and unable to talk—I forget which.

Next entry, I learn to make long-distance phone calls instead of using a bush radio.

Knitting Knews
Despite my kvetching about using blue and green yarn uh-gain, I started the FiberTrend clogs, and spent a considerable part of Friday night cobbling together this strange object.

For people who aren’t familiar with this pattern, you first knit the sole (the green part in the picture) flat and back and forth but on circular needles. Then you join the two ends and start circular knitting. You knit a couple of rounds and then start working from the toe, short row-ing your way up to the cuff, which is where this project stands now. Truly the most bizarre pattern I have ever knit but fast and loads of fun.

I have a sneaking suspicion I won’t have enough green yarn for both sets of soles and cuffs, despite following the “recipe” posted by Churchmouse next to their knitted samples, but—feh—I’ll deal with that when I come to it.

Lisa, this knits up really fast so I encourage you to give it a try. Betcha you'd knit the second one!

Perclexed, I hope you've recovered from snorting Fresca out your nose, and thank you for the booga j bag suggestion. I suspect I'll succumb to knitting one of those one of these days!

My second get-together with the Feral Knitters tonight! I can't decide if I'm more excited about the knitting, the great company, or the thought of another strawberry scone and a glass of milk (now that I've got this ordering-from-someone-behind-a-counter thing all worked out).

Posted by Ryan at March 8, 2004 10:47 AM