Don’t be Stingy with the N’s, Pal

I can't find the entrace

I don’t know which would be worse – not knowing how to spell “entrance” or else misspelling it and thus being the butt of jokes from your coworkers. This sign was posted by a construction area between me and my lunch, causing me to go seek out the front entrace. It was quite a journey. If only markers came with auto-correct.

Carl Weaver is a writer and brewer for and has been making beer and wine for more than 20 years. He is also an avid photographer and writer and just finished his first book, about a trip he took to Thailand to live in Buddhist monasteries. He considers himself the last of the Renaissance men and the luckiest darned guy in the world. Follow him on Twitter.

2 thoughts on “Don’t be Stingy with the N’s, Pal

  1. I hate that term. I’m working class as well, aren’t I, by virtue of working and not living off inheritance? Even when my parents do pass on, I think my inheritance will consist of a mounted deer head and a painting of dogs playing poker.

    Social class has nothing to do with this. You don’t need a fancy job to be educated. Higher degrees are expensive; learning and educating oneself is free.