Paul Smalera

The New York Times reported on a peculiar time warp happening in the bowels of Yankee Stadium's ticket office. After sending out emails telling season ticket plan holders (like me) that the Yankees were "prepared to discuss your ticket upgrade request," it turns out, in fact, they were not. In fact, it seems no one had checked the outgoing phone line message since, well, the last home game of the playoffs, 79 days ago. Here's the brief story, something I'd never thought would make it into the Times: Yankees Fans Get a Recording, and an Old One at That - New York Times. The kicker? They weren't prepared to discuss anything–not till next Tuesday, five days after they announced their "preperation" to discuss the upgrades. (NB: Who the hell writes the Yankees' communications with ticket holders? I feel like I'm dealing with a cross between a Roman Emperor and a Communist Chinese functionary…). "Dear Comrade: The Leader, through his minions, is prepared to discuss your recent request for seatings at which to observe the spectacle of base-ball from a marginally better stature. Your prostration has been noted…"

Have you ever really, really wanted to like someone, but just couldn't? Like, no matter what they said or did, or how cool they were, this person just rubbed you the wrong way? And you're kinda pissed off at yourself because you don't think you're a very judgmental (at least not in a  harsh, calculating sense) kind of person, but, regardless, there it is. You don't like 'em.

Well, when I reviewed Kampuchea Noodle Bar for the New York Press, that's sort of how I felt. As much as I wanted to settle in at a table and slurp up all the goodies and flavors I had come to associate with Southeast Asian cooking, in the end, I just left the place feeling a little flat. I hope to see this place come around, but for now, if you want to know what I'm talking about, have a click on my review above. Thanks, and enjoy.