Erin C.'s Profile

After Coupongate at the nearby Petco, it was a treat to go to Petsmart today, talk to two friendly and easygoing staff members when I signed up for a PetPerks card and when I checked out, and save a ton of money thanks to my two coupons and the great sale they were having on cat food. (Yes, I asked, and yes, they accept manufacturers' coupons, competitors' coupons, and more than one of the same coupon--although I do not know how many they take at once and I would discourage extreme couponers from pushing the limits.) The store was clean and spacious, the displays were tidy, and did I mention the friendly staff members who were totally eager to talk about their own pets? This Petsmart has my business for sure.

I was a loyal Petco shopper because it was the closest pet store to my home in Rhode Island. Since I already had a PALS card, I started visiting the nearest Petco when I moved to California. What a disappointment! I tried to use some coupons to buy three small bags of cat food. (I wanted to stock up while they were having a sale.) The employee at the cash register first asked me if I had photocopied the coupons. (They were Internet printables, they were legitimate, and accusing your customers of fraud doesn't strike me as particularly wise.) He then tried to start an argument with me, insisting that the language on the coupons stated I couldn't use more than one in a single shopping trip. (To put it simply, he was wrong. I had done my research.) Finally he told me that it was Petco policy to only allow one coupon per transaction. This was viable, as policy varies from store to store, and I didn't feel like calling a manager over. So I gave up, purchased a single bag of cat food, and left. The store lost out on the money that I would have paid for two more bags of food and the money that the food manufacturer would have provided once the coupons were used. So, treating a customer who is trying to save money like a thief turns out to not be the best business strategy. Given that Petco is at least two to three dollars more expensive for every item I buy regularly, I'm glad that i can now go to Petsmart instead.

I think it says something that I haven't written a Yelp review in ages and I felt compelled to review this of all places. I was nervous about my flexible sigmoidoscopy and miserable from the required preparatory procedures (we won't go into that) but the people here made the whole experience as pleasant as such a thing could possibly be. How did they manage to do this?

1) When I called the day before with insurance-related questions, I got thorough, patient, straight answers about my options and felt that everything that could possibly be done to reduce my costs was being done.

2) I interacted with at least six different staff members and they were all patient, professional, and kind. They waited patiently while I arranged for a ride home after unexpectedly choosing to be sedated, brought me ice water to drink after my procedure, offered me cereal bars and my choice of fancy teas, and wrapped me in blankets when I was cold.

3) They explained my results, next steps, and aftercare clearly and will be following up with me tomorrow.

4) Heated blankets. HEATED BLANKETS. Like, just-out-of-the-dryer warm!

My interactions with the medical industry have gotten to the point that I rarely expect to be treated with basic human dignity. When an organization that almost literally has you by the colon actually cares enough to give you better treatment than you'll find in some first class airline cabins (let's not go into what this says about commercial aviation), it is just incredible. I don't know how much control folks have over where they're sent for diagnostic testing, but if they're anywhere near Glendale and can swing it, they should go here.

I'm almost reluctant to write a review because I don't want the word to get out! The best thrift stores always go downhill once they become too popular.

Still, this is the place that finally broke my resolve to stop buying t-shirts. The boys' t-shirt section was just too good, as were the collections of pictures and picture frames, mugs, cameras, and goodness knows what all. The store is massive, constantly has great sales (for example, when I visited, a good portion of the clothing was fifty percent off) and full of good finds if you're willing to take the time to dig around a bit. I walked out with a t-shirt and a mug for $1.35.

Don't tell anyone, please!

Don't go if you want anything other than the beer sampler and some trivia. If that's what you're after, however, you are in good, good hands.

Atkins Farms received mention in a national magazine for their cider donuts, so off to Amherst I went, with two doughnut-eating compatriots in tow.

There's very little not to like about the place. It's set in a beautiful part of western Massachusetts, it's touristy as heck, and it serves delicious coffee and donuts in a friendly, comfortably-crowded setting. I will admit that I don't know much about cider donuts, but I liked what I ate: good texture and nice flavor with just a hint of apple cider tang. Perhaps as I expand my cider donut horizons, I'll have a better idea of just how Atkins Farms stacks up. Until then, I recommend it highly.

I feel like I, of all people, should be thrilled by the idea of hot donuts made to order and by endlessly customizable donuts in crazy flavors. I mean, the fresh donuts of Donut Man in Southern California have the power to bring me to tears and even a properly fresh Krispy Kreme has a certain charm. And I'm all for the wackiness of Northern California's Psycho Donuts or Portland's Voodoo Donuts. But I when I visited Fractured Prune, I spent most of my time thinking about the fact that their mascot was a total rip-off of the California Raisin. I was that unimpressed by the smoking hot piles of grease and glaze in front of me as well as the restaurant around me.

Here's the first problem: fresh is meaningless if it isn't made well. And Fractured Prune seems to assume that people will overlook the fact that their donuts are not cooked, drained, or flavored properly just because they are hot.

Here's the second problem: crazy flavors are useless if they don't taste good. It's pretty awesome, in theory, that you can get mint glaze and Reese's Pieces on your donut if that's your thing. But the glazes here are cloying in texture and overpowering in artificial flavor, and nobody bothered to stop and consider the fact that not every flavor offered tastes good on a plain yeast-raised donut.

And finally, the restaurant is not a pleasant place to be. The coffee is not that great, and there is not much seating in the rather large, empty space. This is fine if you're getting a dozen to go, but it's not a place to spend time savoring your donut.

With some retooling of the too-expansive menu, revisitation of proper donut-making traditions and techniques, and remodeling of the restaurant, Fractured Prune could lure me back into downtown Silver Spring. Until then my quest for a decent donut in the mid-Atlantic states will continue.

Donut Bazar is my favorite donut joint in Rhode Island, and has been ever since I drove into Providence for the first time and saw its beacon of a sign welcoming me (and probably also making fun of me) from the side of Highway 2. It only got better when I visited and found it was a haven for what I consider to be the real Rhode Island: folks of all sorts gathering in the shop's old-school booths and around its old-school counters to eat perfectly acceptable donuts (I prefer the cake varieties here), drink pefectly acceptable coffee, play Keno, and talk shop with the owners and with one another. Show up, shut up, eat your donut, and you just might learn something about life in southern New England.

The best moment of my trip to Randy's was when my donut-eating companion and I pulled off the highway and I actually said, "Wait, what was the address again? How are we going to FIND it?" My companion, dumbfounded, nodded toward the giant donut looming over Manchester Boulevard (the donut we had come to Randy's in part to view) and I felt appropriately stupid.

No, wait, the best moment of my trip to Randy's was when I bit into their perfectly soft, light, melt-in-your-mouth glazed donut and remembered why I've never had much use for Krispy Kreme.

No, wait, the best moment of my trip to Randy's was when I bit into my first nutty, flavorful honey and wheat donut and was transported to a whole new level of Los Angeles donut consumption.

No, wait, the best moment of my trip to Randy's was when my donut-eating companion and I determined that a firing range, pool hall, car wash, and liquor store were all within walking distance and that a person could have the BEST DAY EVER right there under the shadow of the giant donut.

No, wait, the best moment of my trip to Randy's was the quick jaunt down the road to LAX that allowed me to get my donut fix and make my flight in time.

No, wait . . . .

Best Thai food I've had outside of Thailand. Hands down.