The Hills of Beverly and That Red Frugetable

Tomatoes should be a vegetable.  You don't put them in a fruit cup.  You don't top your pancakes with them.  Yeah, they have seeds.  Big freaking deal.  They. Are. Vegetables.

(Ahem, it appears the United States Supreme Court agrees with me, see Nix v. Hedden.  And it also appears you REALLY can take someone to court for ANYTHING.)

Right.  So the point here is:  I don't like tomatoes.  And there are some exceptions to this, but in general, keep them off my sandwich please.  Tonight, driving into Beverly Hills for work, I posted the following on Twitter:

Beverly Hills, you are just like tomatoes to me. Been trying you for years, but we will never be friends.

Then it was as if the universe wanted to prove a point and gave me two - let's call them entertaining - experiences.  After telling twitterspace that I hated this city, I got a free Ruth's Chris Steakhouse cheesecake and an interesting, friendly encounter with a parking attendent.

This still doesn't mean we're friends, but it made me hate Beverly Hills a TEENY bit less.  At least for today.