@RobSchneider Rob, in the immortal words of my heart grandmother (who was from Mexico)... "What the f#ck is going on in here?
You go to your room... YOU ARE GROUNDED!
AND YOU... GO HOME! THIS IS NOT YOUR HOUSE!
Holy Sh*t! This is such a well written description of what exactly everyone in America feels somewhere deep inside their soul.
You gotta take a minute to read it and more importantly... RELATE TO IT.
GOD BLESS AMERICA!
๐บ๐ธ America turns 250 today, and by pure cosmic scheduling, the entire planet came to the party.
The biggest World Cup in history (48 teams, 104 matches, more countries than have ever qualified for anything) landed in North America the exact summer we hit our semiquincentennial. That's a real word. I looked it up. It took 250 years to earn it and I will be using it until August.
The guest list is spectacular. Fans from six continents are currently scattered across 16 host cities, discovering us in real time, and I can't stop watching:
They found the free refills. Watched a guy from Norway try to pay for his second Coke like an honest man. I'm part Norwegian myself, so I understand the instinct. But the Vikings found North America first - the refills are basically a very late thank-you gift.
They found the chips and salsa that arrive before you order. Watched a table of Ivorian fans applaud the basket like it went top corner. Honestly? Correct reaction. I'm going to start doing the same.
They found the ice. So much ice. An amount of ice that suggests we're preparing for something.
They found Buc-ee's. A gas station with 120 fuel pumps, a wall of jerky, and brisket at 2am. I watched a man in a Scotland kit stand in front of the beaver statue like it was a national monument. In Texas, it is.
And with AT&T Stadium hosting 9 matches this summer, more than any venue on Earth - my hometown metro is currently the most international place on the planet. I've been to two matches so far, and real talk: it's a family reunion where nobody's related and everybody showed up anyway.
Mexican fans teaching Kansans their chants. Canadians apologizing to nobody in particular. Eighty thousand strangers hugging over a goal nobody's team even scored. Three countries co-hosting one tournament like neighbors sharing a backyard, which is exactly what it is.
For 250 years the American deal has been simple: show up, and you're one of us by dinner. This summer the whole world took us up on it at once, and we responded the only way we know how. We refilled their drinks.
To our international guests: about tonight. You're going to hear explosions for roughly 24-96 hours. This is normal. This is celebratory. We commemorate our independence by letting Steve two doors down, a man with no pyrotechnic training of any kind, launch commercial-grade fireworks off a folding table in a cul-de-sac. The finale will happen four separate times because Steve keeps finding one more box. We celebrate our birthday like we're still a little surprised it worked.
And look, we know. We KNOW. We're the loudest, most obnoxious patriots on the planet. We put flags on trucks, on swimsuits, on cakes and beaver t-shirts. We chant our own country's name at events our country isn't even competing in. It's a lot. But here's what this summer taught me: I got to watch so many other countries love their homes just as loudly, and it made me love mine more, not less. I think America is the greatest country on Earth. The grandmother sharing snacks knows it's Ivory Coast. That's the best part of the whole party.
If the whole world ran like a World Cup Fourth of July in America, we'd have free refills, everybody's flag on the same street, and fireworks to celebrate a random Tuesday in May.
If you take nothing else away from today, please watch Terry. Terry is a national treasure. That video is 250 years of American spirit in 30 seconds: questionable planning, total commitment, community involvement, and somehow everyone was fine. We are not a serious people on this specific day, and I love us for it.
Happy 250th, America. ๐ฅน https://t.co/fA7PMduyVX
Depends on the quality of service. Do you tip 40% when you buy a pack of gum at a gas station?
TIPS: TO INSURE PROMPT SERVICE.
Let's see your work ethic and passion. Otherwise, you are just an order taker.
Up to you how much you deserve. Just saying...