Once more...WITH FEELING

The BBQ Pit
1

I mean, I know we’ve been through this a thousand times. A-fucking-thousand times, people.

But it’s clear that the message is not getting out. So we must go through it again:

[groans from the class]

As spring and summer approach rapidly, the tourists also approach rapidly…or rather, in a slow, leisurely serpentine fashion blocking the entire sidewalk, interlocking arms in a joyous band, skipping along like the Monkees so no one can get around…and I’m happy to have them. In fact, let’s put this in bold type:

Everyone, come to Chicago It’s filled with things to do and see and eat and hear. It’s historic, it’s artistic, it’s cultural! You can’t beat Chicago.

But I can beat the ever lovin’ crap out of YOU if you don’t follow just a FEW simple rules.

STAND RIGHT…WALK LEFT. I simply can’t emphasize it enough. And when you get to the top of the escalator, take a few steps forward before looking around for the food court, assknob, I’m trying to get somewhere.

QUIT STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING STREET to look at the tall buildings. Yes, they’re tall. They’re amazing, they’re a testament to the human will and the classic Quaker work ethic. Take your fucking picture and move on. I’ve only got an hour for lunch.

CROSS WHEN THE LIGHT SAYS TO CROSS. Maybe out in Keokuk the lights don’t mean nothin’ Cletus, but if you try to cross Michigan avenue against the light (with your fucking children none the less) DON’T BE AMAZED when you end up enmeshed in the grill of a cab. And while we’re at it, when the cab comes…do me a big favor…get in it and shut the door so the rest of us can keep driving. Have your conversation while the car moves. And hey…it’s FOUR TO A CAB, people…at most. I’m afraid you might just have to break up the second grade class reunion and spend fifteen minutes apart. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to find them later because you’ve all got your goddam matching t-shirts on.

Hey, we all know it. THE RATS ARE PLENTIFUL in the subways, no need to squeal and point at them, they don’t eat people.

And most important, and actually the trigger to all of this:

Here’s a little tip Peaches, we’re in a big city with big crime and I’m a big woman with a big temper. If you want directions, just say excuse me:

DON’T FUCKING TUG ON MY PURSE from behind me you fucking cocksocket

Have a nice vacation.

jarbaby

2

But what should we do if we want to use the elevator? We should try to rush on as soon as the door opens, because surely no one would actually want to get off on this floor, right?

3

Right! Same goes for subways, buses and trains! Just get right on whenever you fucking feel like it because surely everyone else can just squeeze THROUGH you to get where they need to go. After all, we only keep the subway doors open for 10 second intervals. It’s like a game for us here…good luck!

4

Oh, good. I figured that’s what we should do, especially since we’re only using the elevator to go up 1 floor, so we’re certainly not much of an inconvenience no matter what we do.

5

Actually, don’t stand. Walk. You wanna know how it is that New York makes it’s living by skimming the top off of your city’s production? 'Cuz you guys are always standing around! Move your ass or I’ll put it on the steps.

Agreed. We got pictures of them you can buy, or you can go to the top of them and look down, which is how you’re supposed to do it in the first place, brainiac. It is legal, by the way, to pick the pocket of anyone in the borough of Manhattan who is looking up. We all get some nice spending money that way. You have been warned.

Fuck that, CROSS! If you’re too much of a wimp to guess whether that oncoming bus has a cab on the other side of it, get out of my way. If I’m outside and the sun is up and it’s a weekday, than something has gone seriously wrong, and I’m in a hurry. Cross or get out of the way. And on a related subject, they are called sidewalks, not sidestands. Move your ass.

Ours do. Please do not alert them to our presence.

There were only about 600 homicides in New York last year, down from over 2000. This activity preceded 75 of those homicides. Another 600 people went back to whatever rectangle-shaped, vowel-starting state they came from looking like they had tried to rob a store in Saudi Arabia. Capice?

Additional notes:

The cool part of the New York Stock Exchange is inside the building. That’s where Maria Bartoromo is, that’s where the traders are, that’s where the cool computer stuff is. Go there. The outside is where the Anarchists bombed. You have been warned. Oh, and if you’re demonstrating, please keep in mind that the blocks surrounding the Exchange have seen about a dozen fucking fatal terrorist attacks in the past century. If you do not cooperate with the police, they will shoot you and I will cheer.

No, I will not give you directions to the World Trade Center. Jesus Christ on an R Train, it’s casting it’s fucking shadow on you right now!

No, I will not give you directions to Carnegie Hall. Yes, I’ve heard the joke answer. And no, I do not wish to be part of the ‘amusing anecdote’ with which you bore your relatives for the rest of your life.

Yes, I have been briefed on the fact that there is no wall on Wall Street or water on Water Street. Take the color-coordinated walking tour to find out why. I paid big bucks for those things to get laid out.

No, they didn’t really jump out of the windows. Well, not many.

Thank you for your attention to these matters.

6

A few more things.

I’m really flattered that you find me attractive, I don’t get compliments that often. But rest assured that sliding up next to me during rush hour on the El when I’m already late, and my feet hurt, and I’m about to pass out from the heat, and subsequently grabbing my ass is NOT the way to my heart. Or my panties. You’re lucky you got away with squashed toes and ringing ears, you perv. Had I not been in such a good mood, your shriveled testicles would have served as a tiara for your otherwise empty skull.

Look, lady. I know that working as an assistant secretary to the mail clerk’s houseboy at Ernst & Young is a hard job, and those cheap stilleto heels look like they pinch, which would explain your obviously pissy demeanor. That, however, does NOT excuse you from barging onto the train while I’m trying to get off, and puncturing my foot with said heel while whacking my hip with your cheap purse hard enough to knock me into the edge of the door. Bitch, now my feet AND my back hurt.

Hey, asshole. I know I’m not exactly the slimmest person in the world. I’m rather large, as a matter of fact. Making mooing sounds at me while I’m at the bus stop, however is NOT the way to tell me to drop a few pounds. Realize that you got off easy being told at top volume that weight can be lost, but drop-fucking-dead ugly is with you forever.

I love this town, but what is it about public transportation makes you assholes lose what little minds you have?

7

MOVE YOUR ASS, GODDAMMIT! Get yer goddam porcine self and your sow of a wife and your piglet children (who obviously have spent all of their nonexistent little lives sitting in front of the goddam Nintendo suckling Cokes) OUT OF THE WAY!

Look, lemme get you to think about what it might be like where you’re from. Picture that you’re waddling out your front door, late, and rushing to your car (rushing being a relative term, to be sure) ONLY THERE ARE FORTY-TWO RANCIDBREATHED RETARDS STARING AT YOUR DOORKNOB, since after all they don’t have them quite that way where they’re from. ARE YOU HAPPY, CHEERFUL AND WELCOMING? That subway entrance you’re blocking is MY DRIVEWAY.

“My goodness, there’s a lot of traffic and it’s awfully dangerous and gee, every place we go is expensive and oh god everyone’s rushing…”

YES! You’re so right. It’s natural selection at work, and honey, you obviously ain’t no one’s first, thirty-first, or twelve-million-four-hundred-thousand-three-hundred-and-ninety-first choice.

It’s expensive? Damn right it is, if you’re staying at the Milford Plaza eating only what you find within a two-block walk since after that you’re so winded you need another meal. Don’t you have a Zagats? Didn’t you read ANYTHING before you got here?

We’ve got every cuisine from Austrian to Yemeni and you’re going to the goddamn Hard Rock or, since you want the deli experience, the Lindy’s in the Mariott. Oh, bite me.

No, you’re not going to get a cab at 4:30 in the afternoon on a Saturday. Deal with it. Get your ass down in the subway.

Oh wait, that’s not on the package tour, but waiting on line three hours for the Empire State Building observatory is. You know what you get to see from the Empire State Building? New Fucking Jersey. Hope that’s worth 7 bucks a head.

Two internationally renowned botanic gardens, a gazillion parks, several hundred museums and galleries, the-holy-of-holies-of-Major-League-Baseball and you’re in the fucking Disney store - one of only, what, four hundred?

Spend yer money and get the hell home. Or better still, move here.

We could use some fresh meat.

8

No offense to you Manhattan,because I love you to death…BUT FUCK YOU. It’s people like you that keep me from fucking driving anywhere. If I have a green arrow to turn left, you’d better believe I’m turning left and if there’s sixteen pedestrians deciding it’s their time to walk, I’m stuck in the middle of the fucking cock sucking intersection, you twatbrush.

STAY ON THE SIDEWALK UNTIL THE BIG BAD CARS GO BY. The white man on the sign tells you when to go.

love always,

jarbaby

9

oh boy - a rare treat - today we added the words “cocksocket” and “assknob” to our vocabularies. Well done indeed, Jarbaby!! It is always a pleasure to read your rants!

As to the OP: I have been to Chi-town on many occasions as I am originally from Illinois. I enjoyed it thoroughly. I think tourists should remember to pack their common sense with their deodorant, little bars of travel soap, and other daily use products. It’s kinda like American Express - DON’T LEAVE HOME WITHOUT IT!! …dipshits.

[slight hijack] You think Chicago is bad? I’ve lived here in Tokyo for the past 9 years. People here move en masse everywhere. At certain times of the day they actually have people who work at the train stations whose job is to pack as many people into a train car as possible…by pushing them in until they can shut the doors. Lemme tell ya, I learned real quick what hours of the day to avoid that shit. Same rule applies though - have common sense towards those who are around you - no matter where you are. [/slight hijack]

-hashiriya-

10

Well, boo-fucking-hoo! Jarbaby can’t drive her goddamn car in THE MOST DENSELY POPULATED COUNTY IN THE UNITED STATES!

Next she’s gonna tell us she’s driving some sorta Sperm Undercount Validator.

Oh, wait, you’re in CHICAGO! [Emily Litella]Never mind![/Emily Litella]

Well, that’s completely different. In New York, you’d deserve NO SYMPATHY AT ALL, if you’re dumb enough to drive into Manhattan you deserve every inconvenience, every astronomical parking bill and every ticket you get.

So there. Nyaaah.

And, if he doesn’t mind suggesting so, if you drive into our Manhattan, he’ll give you SUCH A PINCH!

11

Traffic lights? They got traffic lights in Keokuk? Hot damn and Gool-lee, what will they think of next! Wouldn’t it be somthing if we could all be as imporntant and self absorbed as those people in NYC and Chicago who are in a big-ass hurry to get where ever it is they just got to get to in a big-ass hurry. Maybe the great thing about living in the big city is that you can be a grade A twit and still fade into the crowd.

12

All I can say is…thank GHOD I moved away from Park Ridge…I HATED the Chicago traffic…I even refuse to drive in Detroit now…

If yer gonna walk, then WALK dammit! If yer gonna drive then DRIVE dammit!
*[sub]posted whilst drinking so ignore any typo’s etc…[/sub]

13

takes out paper and pencil

“cocksocket… assknob…”

Got any more jarbabyj?

14

Now that we’ve toured Chicago and New York, it’s time to visit–

FABULOUS LAS VEGAS!!!

Now, there is a traffic light, replete with a pedestrian/walk light about every four feet along the Strip. Do not, I repeat, do not just wander out into moving traffic on Las Vegas Boulevard and just expect traffic to stop for you because you are the Almighty Tourist. Most cars will, some won’t.

And once inside the casino–if you are not seated at a slot machine, gaming table, or a table in one of the casino’s fine restaraunts, KEEP MOVING!!! (this seems to be a recurring theme in this thread.) There are other people in the casino who want to get someplace. Many of them work there. Cocktail waitresses are trying to get to the customers to serve drinks, porters are trying to get to the mess someone made to clean it up, dealers are coming back from break and trying to get to their freakin’ games. It’s not bad enough you move at a pace that indicates you are trying to throw a race with a desert tortise, you have to stop in the middle of an extremely narrow walking space to gawk at the latest development in slot machine technology?

Oh, and we don’t mind if you want to watch the games, but if you are hanging out near a craps table, ** DON’T STAND BEHIND THE FREAKING STICKMAN!!! **During the twenty minutes per hour that I occupy that position, I have responsibilities. I’m trying to keep my eyes on the dice to make sure a cheat doesn’t slip in a set of loads, watching a dealer pay bets to make sure mistakes aren’t made, paying hardways and proposition bets, all the while manipulating a four-foot rattan stick with a bend at the end. The one place I am not going to be looking is behind me. If you lose an eye because you think the cool place to be is eight inches behind me (or closer, I’ve had people actually squish me up against the table) it’s your own damn fault.

And I swear if one more person asks me what casino they’re in… people actually do this, after having craps for a half hour. When I was working at the Fremont, I can’t tell you how many people asked me where the poker room was. The Fremont doesn’t have a poker room- these people thought they were at the Horseshoe, which is across the street. Here’s a hint. Every single casino in Las Vegas has a huge-ass freaking neon sign with the name of the joint over the door. Also, there are signs around the inside with the casino logo on them. And the name of the casino is printed in bold, screaming letters on the layout of every single gaming table in the joint. Not to mention the fact that about every five minutes, an announcement for some promotion or other the casino has going on is broadcast over the loudspeaker that includes the name of the casino.

If you actually need to ask what casino you’re in, you shouldn’t be outsid of the house without your mommy there to hold your hand while crossing the street, much less getting into an airplane and flying to Las Vegas unattended.

15

Damn. That may be the most times I’ve ever used the word “freaking” in a single post.

Um, would somebody do me a favor and grab this “e” and place it appropriately for me? Thanks.

16

“cocksocket”
“twatbrush”

I am building a shrine to jarbabyj right now.

17

And now for an international version. Visitors to London, please pay attention.

The Tube. It’s colour-coded. Do you see the colours? Can you see the yellow and green and red lines? Can you see how on the map which is plastered everywhere in every station and on every single train? You do? THEN READ IT. It’s not hard - it’s beautifully designed and it’s very clear. You apparently possess a complete inability to READ A GODDAMN MAP you arseburger. And while i’m usually happy to help, incessantly asking each other “what train are we on? where are we going? does this train stop at Earl’s Court? Is this the circle line? can i change here?” means you might as well stand on your tippy-toes, raise your arms high and shout at the top of your voice “I AM A TOURIST. I AM VERY STUPID. PLEASE TAKE ALL MY MONEY”.
And when you get to the ticket barrier have your godforsaken ticket ready - i’m trying to get out and you are standing right in front of one of the three available exits blocking everyone while you try to work out where your ticket is and how exactly this consarned machine works. If aren’t ready to go through, get out of the damn way while the rest of us do.

Leicester Square. It’s pronounced Lester. Your brain will not explode because a word is written one way and pronounced another. LESTER LESTER LESTER. And while we’re talking about squares, when you’re in Trafalgar Square stop and think for a minute. Those pigeons that you’re feeding, the ones that so amusingly hop about on your body and you try to get to hop on your head for the charming photo opportunity… where have they been? They’ve been standing in shit, hopping around the streets of London, roosting in the gutter of rooves. And you’re letting it stand on your head.

Macdonalds. I cannot believe how many of you would apparently die a horrible death if your every meal wasn’t exactly the same as you have at home. London has some of the greatest food on earth and you eat at Macdonalds, or if you’re feeling grand an Angus Fucking Steakhouse. I know what you think about English food. We boil everything don’t we? That’s right, we boil everything and it all has no flavour and it’s all grey isn’t it? A great big FUCK YOU to you and your knobcheese kind. You haven’t even tried a steak and ale pie with buttery mash from a proper pub. Not convinced? Then we have thousands of different restaurants in London. Try Wagamamas for the best Japanese food you’ll ever have, try Chez Gerard for some killer steak frites, try just about any restaurant in Soho. Just fucking TRY.

Palace guards. Do you have any idea how incredibly, mindnumbingly, kill-me-now bored these soldiers must be with tourists trying to get them to move? But of course, you’re so special that you’ll be able to get them to move where twenty other million people have failed. Yes, you with your sweaty arse and terminal case of Mefirstitis, you are the one person this man has been wanting to meet for his entire life and he will now give up his job just to talk to you. Look at him if you must but don’t treat the man like a fucking monkey to throw peanuts at. Remember - he’s armed.

Fran

18

Hmm. The one time I visted New York it was at the end of a four week tour across Canada. I had diarrhoea. Let me tell you - I wasn’t the tourist hanging around…

Yes Francesca - the tourists in London are bad. But at least London is a big city with lots of people to arbsorb them. I cope. But when I lived in Cambridge… whooey!

Let me tell you - you have NO reason to complain about tourists unless you live in a town centre designed about 500 years ago with very narrow cobble streets in which the tourist population seem to outnumber everybody else by about 5 to 1. Gaggles on French schoolkids totally fill a road. Big fat American couples with day-glo jackets and 10 cameras block the whole street and fail to comprehend the concept of letting you by. We have lectures to get to! People take photos of you as you are walking home from the library with books. Unasked! Photos! When my friend first moved into his room one year, he was studying, looked up and noticed that an open-topped tourbus has stopped outside his window. The upper deck was at the exact level of his room. People were looking in at him. They waved. One fucker even took a photo of him. In his room!

Nyaargh. Yes I know Cambridge is extraordinarily pretty. I know that it is culturally unique. I know that the university is of interest. But really people - we’re just trying to live our lives!

Wow. 3 years after I graduated and moved away, I still work up steam.

OTOH I suppose the locals weren’t that thrilled by the students either…

pan

19

Heh.

In my third year I had a room right opposite St Mary’s church. The fucking tour bus stopped outside every fucking hour, treating me to the same bit of the damned commentary every fucking time. This actually wasn’t as annoying as the shitster of a street cleaning vehicle that cleaned the Market Square every morning at 6am.

During my third year, I firmly believed that there is no creature on earth so rude as a French 13 year old on a school trip. Maybe the reason that the French place high importance on the 20th birthday is that they can celebrate emerging from the hideous teens.

I also used to live in London. Now I live in the sticks, I’m more laid back about getting from A to B, but whenever I go back to London to see friends, I’m back in full getoutofmyway mode after about five minutes.

Vaguely interesting story involving me and a tourist:
Once upon a time, I was in Aix-en-Provence, studying at the foreign students’ institute and generally arsing around like a twat. I was on my way to a friend’s flat when a tourist with a camera stopped me. She asked me if she could take a photo of her for her daughters. I think she was German, although I may be wrong. Her French wasn’t so good, so I didn’t ask her why she wanted the photo. I can only assume that a) she mistook me for a person famous to German teenage girls or b) her daughter wanted to collect photos of ladies wearing hats. I wasn’t dressed oddly enough to merit a photo.

20

Gawrsh, jarbabyj, I’m going to Chicago mid-May. I think I’ll jes keep my exteremely rural, “farm-living-is-the-kife-for-me”, nearest neighbor was 5 miles away ass in the hotel the entire time. Now I’m a-skeered to walk to three blocks to the conference center! :wink:

I see that nobody posted disgruntled in DC. I guess that’s because nobody gives a shit what you do. They just plow on.