Vegas! Recruiting. Butter boards.
We went to Las Vegas this weekend to visit my mom. The drive from our house in Los Angeles to Las Vegas takes just under five hours, unless you’re my mom, aka Lead Foot Linda, who was the inspiration for the Bandit in Smokey and the Bandit.
With me driving, the trip took closer to six hours. Also, we stopped in Yermo to charge the car, use the bathroom, and let Mortimer shoot his shot at marking a few square feet of the Mojave desert.
On the drive out to Vegas, I always ask myself the same question: are we there yet? But on the drive back, my mind roams. Here are some of the questions I asked myself:
What’s the casino scene like in Primm?
If you win big in Primm, aren’t you still losing?
Is this the trip I finally say, screw it and take the road to Zzyzx?
What’s the point of an agriculture inspection if they just wave everyone through?
Should I get into the interstate agriculture smuggling racket?
Which Harry Bosch novel was the one where his case takes him to Zzyzx?
How much money does that guy biking through the Mojave desert spend on sun tan lotion?
How hard is the Mad Greek crushing it?
What’s the situation with the person who lives in that lonely house in the middle of the desert?
Was this the stretch of road where Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau stopped to pee in the movie Swingers?
How many Kinky Friedman songs before Christina intervenes?
What if Roy Choi opened a roadside place in Baker?
Would the Mad Greek welcome Roy Choi’s fusion game, or would Baker quickly become the scene of a vicious culinary rivalry?
Why is that truck still in the fast lane?
How cool is the dude with a handlebar mustache leading a caravan of vintage Volkswagen Beetles on the Pearblossom Highway?
Has anything ever gone right at the McDonald’s in Little Rock, California, or is that place some kind of portal to hell?
Does the guy in the Mustang who crossed the double yellow line to pass on the Pearblossom Highway have a death wish, or is he just a dumbass?
Why don’t we stop and get date shakes?
If Christina and I get into the agriculture smuggling game, who drives the truck and who drives the bandit car?
Recruit the recruiter
For many people, working in tech is a fantasy come true. There’s the money, of course. But it’s not just the money. There’s also the power. A lot of power. Think about it. With a few lines of code, a cool logo, and enough PR flaks hyping your bullshit story about making the world a better place, you can disrupt all kinds of stuff that already works pretty well!
But there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. You have to know your shit when it comes to computers. Sadly, when it comes to computers I don’t know shit. But I still have a shot, thanks to the other Michael Estrin, who is one of the most sought after engineers on LinkedIn.
The other day, a recruiter named Malvina sent me an email about a job. In the subject line, she asked if I was the Geralt of JavaScript? I didn’t get the reference, but Christina, who works in tech and loves epic fantasy, explained that Malvina was making a reference to The Witcher.
“She knows her audience, and she’s super creative,” Christina explained. “But her email list sucks, so it’s that old story of crap in, crap out.”
Here’s what Malvina wrote👇
Here’s what I wrote back to Malvina👇
New trend: butter boards!
Way the hell back in July, I went to a stranger’s house to buy cheese. Sophisticated Situation Normal readers pointed out that what I actually bought was a charcuterie board. That was good fun, but a reader named Tab isn’t laughing.
Tab wrote in (twice!) to tell me that I’ve created a monster. The issue? Ads for charcuterie boards continue to stalk Tab online to this day. Tab, I’m so sorry. May I suggest that you either switch to an anonymous browser, or buy the damn charcuterie board already?
Not that charcuterie boards are on trend anymore. Several readers—Anna, Henry, and someone going by the handle Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh—all wrote in to tell me that butter boards are the new charcuterie board. I guess Anna, Henry, and Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh are hoping Christina will read this, then send me to a stranger’s house to buy butter. Talk about a dream assignment! In the meantime, here’s a TikTok of a butter board👇
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Comment of the week!
Last Sunday, I wrote about how my new Apple Watch tells me how to live. The comments were great because Situation Normal readers are known for leaving great comments. To recognize that greatness, and encourage even more greatness, I’m rolling out a new feature—comment of the week.
This week’s honor goes to turtleneck-hater and Mitch Hedberg fan shambolicguru👇
Contribute a thing to Situation Normal!
The Wednesday edition doesn’t write itself. I need your help! Do you have a question about something I’ve written? Got a weird overheard you want to share? See a product or sign that made you LOL, or WTF? Need life advice? Send your submissions to me at 👇
michael.j.estrin@gmail.com
When submitting, please say if you’d like an alias. Otherwise, I’ll use your first name. If you write a newsletter, I’m happy to link to it, so let me know!
If you’re new here, please👇
If you’re a returning champ, please👇
Stick around and chat!
You know the drill. I’ve got questions, you may or may not have answers.
Have you ever stopped in Primm, and if so, did you feel like a winner?
Have you ever taken the road to Zyzzyx?
How much money do you think it’ll take to get Malvina to come recruit readers for Situation Normal?
Would you try a butter board?
How do you go about cleaning a butter board? Seems messy, right?
Until Sunday when I’ll have story about going to a Raiders game…
OMG so much in here.
First I can’t wait to hear that recruiter’s reply. She seems like a good sport and this should be fun!
Second, FIG SHAKE? What?
Third I am not going near that butter board and also I have a better idea: CREAM CHEESE BOARD.
Fourth comment of the week is such a great idea--mind if I totally rip you off?
Comment of the week? I was quite certain that I was comment of the week, every week, on Situation Normal. To find out other commenters are commenting anything as entertaining as my own commentary is a blow. You know who would appreciate my comments? Malvina. I'm poaching her, Michael. Your whole operation is in trouble now.