People that go through the drive-thru at fast food restaurants and take FOREVER to order really irritate the hell out of me. HELLOOOOO! Everyone on this planet has been to a McD's at some point in their life. The menu has NOT changed in the past 15+ years...so what's the problem?!?!?! Before you get in the drive-thru line, please have SOME idea of what you're going to order. There's a reason it's called fast food. If you want 15 minutes to order, then go to a restaurant. Don’t even get me started on the drive thru at KFC’s. That eatery needs a 2 lane drive-thru…one for people that want to take 20 minutes to decide on exactly how many arteries they want to clog and one for people that already know and don’t want to wait another 20 minutes before attempting it.
People that walk 3/4 wide down a hallway and then act like YOU'RE the one in the way really irritate the hell out of me. I mean really!! The hallway is wide enough for 2 trolley carts to race down it (don’t ask me how I know that *grinz*) and suddenly it isn’t wide enough for two people to walk down in opposite directions? Oh hell no. Pissed off co worker meets wide hall walker in an Office Boxing Match…Get your tickets today!!!! Is there anything we can do to clue these idiots in to the fact that WE ARE TIRED of being walked into the wall mounted hand sanitizers, fire alarms, bulletin boards and other random hallway things just so they can have the luxury of feeling like a Mac Truck!?!?
People that you let into traffic and DO NOT wave “thank you” really irritate the hell out of me. I was nice enough to let you into traffic from the pit stop strip mall you just HAD to go buy something at in the middle of rush hour traffic. I could’ve let you just sit there for the next 10 minutes until someone else decided to take pity on you. Show some appreciation you jerks!
People that go power-hungry in positions of authority really irritate the hell out of me. Yesterday I took a walk at lunch so I could buy myself a sub. The order: a 6-inch club on wheat. As my sandwich was shaping up quite nicely on the other side of the spot-free sneeze guard the craziest thing happened. The most diligent assistant manager (DAM) in the history of diligent assistant managers happened by. Stopping dead in her tracks, the DAM spun on her heels, made a beeline to where my smartly-dressed, courteous sandwich builder was honing her craft and proceeded to lift the top off my now completed sub. My first thought was maybe the DAM is simply making sure my sub is up to company standards, but that wasn't the case at all. The DAM lifted the lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and green peppers off the lower bun and began counting the slices of processed meat.
This wasn't about me at all.
This was a sandwich audit. Angry with the results of the sandwich audit, the DAM yanked one single slice of processed turkey off my sandwich and slammed it back into the bin with its heavily processed turkey brothers and sisters while muttering angry words to my now embarrassed sandwich builder.
Unbelievable.
Even if today’s sandwich audit had been to ensure this glorious little 6-incher was up to my not-real-high sandwich standards, I would have been bothered by the DAM violating my sandwich in front of me. But, like I said, today’s sandwich audit wasn’t about me at all. It was about the company. And really, is one slice of meat so valuable that it’s worth embarrassing an employee over in front of a lunch time crowd? More importantly, is one slice of meat so valuable that creating an awkward moment for a paying customer is the only solution?
People who work as Telemarketers really irritate the hell out of me. Sure that sounds harsh but I can no longer mask my true feelings when it comes to unnecessary interruptions on the telephone while I'm busy trying to enjoy my free time at home. Family? Friend? Acquaintance? Phone me, that's perfectly fine, but when it comes to telemarketers I have officially been pushed to the very brink. I am now perched in the mental clock tower, sweat beading down my forehead, trigger finger twitching. An over-the-hill cop just days from retirement who is “getting too old for this” is dressed in an ill-fitting suit, tie loosened, and is now attempting to reason with me but I’m too far gone.
Click…
For the past two weeks I have received no less than 12 calls from (***)***-****. If that's not annoying enough, when I pick up the phone and answer, there is nothing there. Perhaps they're using an auto-dialer and a convict…err…I mean, a fine, upstanding, courteous telemarketer… who will be on the line any moment now, but still nothing. I've even waited on the line barking, "Hello? HELLO!? HELLO?!!?!?!?!?" into the phone for 3 minutes waiting for something, somebody, ANYONE to give me the slightest clue why they’re phoning me over and over and over again. Holy crap.
In this day and age when government at all levels is spending hundreds of millions of dollars to ensure we all have our privacy, why are unsolicited phone calls still legal? And you can’t tell me this has nothing to do with privacy. My phone is in my home—my private space - so you can see that this does, in fact, have everything to do with privacy. I have a phone for my convenience and enjoyment NOT so I can be hounded on a daily basis by God knows who selling God knows what. I pay my phone bill, on time, every month so I can enjoy the benefits of being connected to the outside world when I see fit and not so you can call me, say, 12 times in two weeks to have me scrambling for the phone so I can enjoy the silence on the other end of the line. For God’s sake, I was enjoying the silence WITHOUT having to sprint through the house looking for the phone.
Now there are going to be those lovers of telemarketing that say things like, “Well, just don’t pick up if you don’t recognize the number.” That’s bullshit. Picking up is the easy part. The hard part is running in from the garage or having a pleasant conversation with my neighbor cut short because you want to inform me that I’ve been pre-approved for a Platinum whatever card with just 23% interest or you want to review my telephone features for the seventh time this year. You know what? I do want to review my telephone features and I want the one that sends 50,000 volts down the phone line whenever the words, “Could I please speak to Christine *****” come out of the person’s mouth at the other end of the line.
I don’t want to hear any of the bullshit solutions or reasons for telemarketing because I simply don’t care. Don’t answer your phone, ask them to remove you from their call list, they’re just trying to make a living, that’s how they fundraise, get rid of your phone, etc., that’s all crap. The only real solution is to make telemarketing illegal and not by means of some doomed-to-fail national Do Not Call List. That will never work because there is no international law to prosecute companies that choose to call me from outside the country. How about a DO Call List? When I feel I’m ready to be hounded in the middle of sleeping, reading, clogging, meditating, crying or watching TV, I’ll let you know. Until then, piss off.
Oh yeah, Primus Canada called me today--from Baltimore, Maryland. You know, in the USA.
People that believe that the McDonalds campaign is REAL really irritate the hell out of me. You know the campaign I am talking about…”At McDonalds we take care of our employee’s” and then there is a statement saying “Ben Franklin, Suzie Mitchell wants you to ask her out” or whatever. Well, today on the way home this complete moron went OFF about this poster that said “Jada Carlson, once again, your locker combination is 12 24 36.” This raging idiot actually thought this advertisement was real and she wanted to get in touch with this oh so wronged employee and convince her to SUE McDonalds because her safety and well being has been compromised. Lord help us all if this chick ever procreates.
People that misrepresent themselves really irritate the hell out of me. The other day while driving I pulled up near a locksmith van with the words Lock Surgeon emblazoned down both sides. At first I thought nothing of it, but then I started thinking about how offended I would be if I had spent 10+ years at university training to become an actual surgeon while this gentleman in the dilapidated van bills himself a “surgeon” with four weeks of part-time study in the locksmith program down at the community college. And what about the guy in the ill-fitting dress shirt and greasy tie with the vacuum that calls himself the Rug Doctor? I hardly doubt the Lock Surgeon and the Rug Doctor are playing golf every Wednesday afternoon down at the country club.
I don’t want to downplay the importance of noble professions such as locksmithing and cleaning puke and blood stains out of carpet, but perhaps the title of doctor and surgeon should be left to those with a minimum of medical school, or at least a doctorate.
There is far too much misrepresentation is today’s world. Not just lock “surgeons” and rug “doctors”, but what about Liquid Plumber? If I were a plumber I would find it tremendously insulting that a liquid—a liquid that I am all but certain did NOT spend four years going to school and apprenticing—would have the balls to call himself a plumber. Let’s see your ticket, Liquid Plumber. Let’s see your ticket. That’s right, you don’t have one. You’re Liquid Handyman at best.
People that state “I have a life outside of the chat room” and then proceed to spend their entire lives talking about the chat room really irritate the hell out of me. I mean really!! How hard is it to get off your ass, move away from your keyboard and actually go DO something with your life??!?! Maybe you could pay attention to the children that you spend all your time in chat bitching about. Maybe you could go to the gym and actually lose some of the weight you are constantly complaining about. Maybe you could make a DR’s appointment and determine once and for all why you are consistently on your death bed. Maybe you could take up a hobby and find some fulfillment and satisfaction and self worth outside of the chat room and away from the random strangers who feed into your narcissistic “woe is me, I am such a victim” routine by telling you what a delightful cam whore or what an amazing 1-900 phone slut you are. Maybe, just maybe, you could actually HAVE a life instead of just pretending to.
Wow…*laughs* Today’s entry wasn’t supposed to go QUITE in this direction…but it was fun! I highly recommend it! What a feeling of absolute bliss to whine about the irritating things that people do to drive you insane that you are always “too polite to comment on” when the moment actually happens.
Maybe that’s a tactic…screw being “too polite”…maybe we should all just say “hey! You’re being an ass because…” and then they would be the ones all worked up about their stupid behavior, not us.
*grinz evilly and rubs my hands together* that just might work
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