I was incredibly hungry driving down Folsom Boulevard and really wanted a turkey sandwich. Here’s the problem: Outside of Mr. Pickle’s was a gigantic pickle waving at passersby to go inside. I could have stopped, but I kept going. I was starving, but to be honest, I didn’t want to have to interact with the pickle. Call me an elitist, but if I can go all day without schmoozing with a huge-ass pickle, then I will. I’d rather starve than chill out with a pickle. At Jamba Juice a while back, there was a dude dressed up like a banana, and it reminded me how lonely and sick this world can be. Yeah, it probably speaks to larger mental issues on my part, but if you have a mascot standing around on the street—be it a white guy dressed as a pickle or a black dude like a banana—I’m not going into your store.