Off work, run home and SS&S (shine, shower and shave) and then to the date, who leaves a note Scotch-taped to her apartment door saying sorry, but she left town earlier with a traveling saxophone player she met while picking up her dry-cleaning. And in the note, she asks that you call her boss and let him know that she won't be back to work, and that he can mail her final paycheck c/o General Delivery, Schenectady.
Since you are her boss, you don't have anyone to call. Never truer. But lookie! Here you are, with a free Friday night, all to yourself, so let's get the phone out and check out Yelp to find out where's a good place over here in Biscuitville to get a sandwich, maybe dance a little, see a movie, buy a book...
I hate to burst anyone's bubble, but it's now estimated that 20% of the reviews on Yelp are phonier than Hollywood cleavage. What a world, where proprietors of carry-out shops, bowling alleys, fruit stands and muffler garages can plant their own reviews on the local review site! The San Francisco-based company says that they have filters in place to make sure that the person saying that Crazy Wayne's Wayback Tacos are worth driving across town for is not Crazy Wayne himself. But, as they say, "who" can you trust? (Trust people who say, "Whom can you trust?")
Gee whiz, what else do we have to question? What other sacred institutions must crumble and fall? Next thing you know, that Norman Rockwell original you bought, the one that shows a cop giving directions to a lost hitchhiker on his iPhone, will turn out to be a forgery too!
And when you buy one of those counterfeit-bill detector pens, how do you know it's a real one?