Wherever there’s a mistake, a typo, a misspelling, a misplaced decimal, or any of a million other little nitpicky errors, I will notice it. My brain cannot look away. I’ll point it out to all of the blissfully unaware people in my path, and ruin their happy space. That’s my special skill.
I also make mistakes, so I’m not really a pious judge with a jeweled crown in a velvet robe on a pedestal. (Although a crown would be nice.) I’ll even admit it: my own mistakes are usually more colossal than mere typos.
Some typos had the misfortune to recently cross my path, and I had the presence of mind to record them for your enjoyment. Scroll through them and, lest ye judge me as too harsh a judge, you’ll find my personal error of the week at the end.
[Hey, it’s Friday the 13th! Happy Big Mac Day!]
Error #1: a magnetic advertisement on the side of a car
Yes, beauty is only skin deep. This salon, however, targets those whose beauty is deep, DEEP inside. Beauty that never sees the light of day–without their special help.
Erro #2: a sign-up sheet for a community dinner
I’m a big sauerkraut fan, but this looked unappealing. I didn’t sign up.
Errot #3: hotel room services
If these services are available 7 Days A Week, why aren’t they available 24 Hours Per Day? If you’re gonna go nuts with odd capitalization, be consistent.
And how can a guest service agent be more? And why does being more subsequently make him happy to assist me? I didn’t sleep well in this hotel. If they are so lackadaisical in their printed communication, who knows whether they washed the sheets? Makes me twitch a little.
Errar #4: address labels on a pile of envelopes holding get well cards from my lovely mother to my lovely husband
Mom’s name is Judith.
My personal error of the week
When we travel and sleep in hotels, I always bring my own coffee. And sugar. And creamer. Without my coffee I am not quite a human person. On the first of two mornings waking up in hotel, I confidently overfilled the teeny coffee pot with a load of grounds (Starbucks Sumatra) and set it to brew.
Then I spooned some sugar-from-home-in-a-Ziploc-bag into the flimsy paper cup and waited.
When I poured in some coffee, it looked too dark. Thick.
When I dumped in some creamer, it didn’t even lighten. I took a sip and it was so strong I almost choked. So I added more sugar and it got stronger. How could that be? It tasted so strange.
I poured it all back into the pot, ready to dump the mess down the sink and try again with my second-morning coffee ration, when I licked the spoon–also brought from home–actually it was a grapefruit spoon that I packed to eat my grapefruit (also from home). I’d bring my whole home if I could. Or maybe just stay home all the time.
The spoon tasted salty. WTH? I stuck my finger in the “sugar” and found it to be about 50/50 mix of sugar and sodium chloride (aka salt).
I’m an idiot. I don’t deserve my crown. I was out of Ziploc bags when I was packing my sugar, and found a bag with sugar already in it, so I added more. Yeah. That unlabeled bag of white sugar crystals was actually sodium chloride, NaCl crystals. For french fries.