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If you don't read Lileks, you're missing out. www.lileks.com, start with the Institute of Official Cheer.
Anyhow, said sighting appears here: http://lileks.com/bleats/archive/08/0708/070908.html
Relevant portion excerpted below:
"No matter how powerful you were in your office, no matter how much you terrorized your family and browbeat the clerks at the grocery store, no matter how many imperious glares you shot at the idiots who crossed your path every day – in short, no matter how great you may have been, it will not prevent you from being a foul old bastard in a pink shirt eating a Wendy’s hamburger under a loudspeaker playing “Blondie.”
"Oh, I’m making all that up except for the last part, but the fellow seemed to be one of those grousy bastards who’s been a bastard all his life, and turned grousy when he got old. He growled at the clerk to give him a spoon for his Frostie, unaware perhaps that the act of growling about anything connected with something called a “Frostie” ought to unman you right away. She pointed out – cheerfully! – that the spoons are behind you. He looked around with a startled look, as if he lived a nightmare life in which the spoons are always behind you, silent, waiting, ready to strike, worse than forks in ways you cannot imagine – they go for the eyes, don’t you know - and my God she sees them too? He took his meal over to a planter filled with plastic ferns and ate. Judging from his clothes and his general comportment, he wasn’t mad, and he wasn’t needy. He was, however, a bastard. You could tell. It just rolled off him in waves. "
Anyhow, said sighting appears here: http://lileks.com/bleats/archive/08/0708/070908.html
Relevant portion excerpted below:
"No matter how powerful you were in your office, no matter how much you terrorized your family and browbeat the clerks at the grocery store, no matter how many imperious glares you shot at the idiots who crossed your path every day – in short, no matter how great you may have been, it will not prevent you from being a foul old bastard in a pink shirt eating a Wendy’s hamburger under a loudspeaker playing “Blondie.”
"Oh, I’m making all that up except for the last part, but the fellow seemed to be one of those grousy bastards who’s been a bastard all his life, and turned grousy when he got old. He growled at the clerk to give him a spoon for his Frostie, unaware perhaps that the act of growling about anything connected with something called a “Frostie” ought to unman you right away. She pointed out – cheerfully! – that the spoons are behind you. He looked around with a startled look, as if he lived a nightmare life in which the spoons are always behind you, silent, waiting, ready to strike, worse than forks in ways you cannot imagine – they go for the eyes, don’t you know - and my God she sees them too? He took his meal over to a planter filled with plastic ferns and ate. Judging from his clothes and his general comportment, he wasn’t mad, and he wasn’t needy. He was, however, a bastard. You could tell. It just rolled off him in waves. "
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