**I hate it when **you’re walking to catch the bus, and you can see it drawing up to the busstop, and you realise that you’re just too far away to get there in time even if you run and so you decide not to run because then you’d just sweat over your newly ironed shirt and look like an idiot in the process because you know that you run like a llamma in heat.
**I REALLY hate it when **you walk a little further and you realise that the bus is taking a lot longer to pull away than normal and that if you had started running when you first saw the bus you’d be there by now and safely aboard, but if you start running now you’ll miss it for sure because the longer it stands there the more likely it is to start moving at any moment and you run like a llama (etc) and all you can do is curse the bus, its driver and Ken Livingstone all at the same time.
I hate it when you are trying to get off a crowded bus/tube and you’re trying to squeeze your way to the door without actually pushing past anyone because that would be rude, and some oaf just stand there when you politely say “Excuse me” in a voice that wouldn’t offend the Queen Mother (RIP).
I REALLY hate it when you start pushing past the aforementioned oaf and are all ready to give him your best Disdainful Glance[sup]TM[/sup] when you realise that he/she is also getting off at this stop and is waiting for the heavily pregnant lady/old man with zimmer frame/World War II vetran in wheelchair get off first.
Been there, done that to the first part of your post.
I also hate it when you are young and downtown alone and on the 151 which your older sisters told you is the one to take and you need to go to the Metra station and you’re going down Michigan Ave and you panic because it seems that the driver isn’t taking you and the rest of the bus to the Metra station, so you get off and find you have about 1/2 mile to walk. In the cold and rain.
Not that that happened to me or anything.
May I suggest the Tube? Sounds like your in London.
When I’m the oaf, I politely say, “Sorry, but this gentleman/lady here needs to get off first,” to spare everyone’s embarrassment.
Actually, something like this happens fairly often here… when the metro is very crowded and you need to get off at the next stop, and you say “pardon,” as likely as not you’ll get a “je descends ici aussi” (I’m getting off here too).
I hate it when the bus is hurtling through the boonies at night in the cold rain and the windows are completely fogged up and you can’t tell where you are and as you’re getting off you suddenly realize that you’re at the wrong stop, the stop before your stop, and you have the choice of either looking like an idiot and saying “Oops, wrong stop!” and getting back on the bus or walking a 1/2 mile, and just as you decide to go with “looking like an idiot” option rather than “getting soaked to the bone and getting hypothermia” option, the door closes and the bus pulls away, leaving you to walk a 1/2 mile along the highway in the cold rain at night.
I hate it when traffic is heavy, making you just a little bit late for yoga, so you have to creep in, try your best to remove your velcro Tevas silently, then step over four people to find the one space in the far corner of the room still empty enough to spread out your yoga mat.
I REALLY hate it when traffic is heavy, making you just a little bit late for yoga, but then the Gym Official stops you on the way in, and your ID is in the car, and then she says, you don’t just need the ID, you need the Special Gym Bar Code Thingie, and to get that you must have your ID plus a copy of your schedule (which I’d thrown away that morning on the way to yoga).
I hate it when I go to the grocery store, forget my list, and end up forgetting the most important thing on that list until I get home.
I really hate it when I get back in the car, go back to the store, buy said item, and get back home only to realize I actually had one already hidden behind the mayonnaise.
Cursing the world, or the weather, or the clock I can understand, but why the 'bus, the driver, and Ken Livingston?
What is amusing, or not, is when there’s a 'bus that you can catch, depending of other traffic, and good luck, but only just can catch, and then you end up with one driver who pretty much knows I’ll be dashing along and will stay at teh stop for the extra 20 seconds or whatever, and one drive rwho doesn’t. Result, a week of gettting home from work in fairly good time, alternating with a week of having to wait around the 'bus stop for half an hour, all sad and grumpy.
Well, the bus because it’s there, the driver because he’s the one who is taking longer than usual and has put you in this predicament and Ken Livingstone because… well… he talks funny.
And he’s in charge of London Transport so therefore this must somehow be his fault.
(raises hand) That might have been me. Sorry. (lowers hand). I count like items as one item. So if I have four rolls of toilet paper, two ice creams, a bag of potatos,two cans of enchilada sauce, two boxes of rice, a package of chicken, three cans of baked beans, and a gallon of milk, that’s only eight items.
Then I’d have to stand in line at the check cashing desk. It’s a vicious cycle…
Though i did just get my first debit card. Here’s a question for you. How do you keep track of your debit card transactions? Do you save all the receipts and write them in your book at the end of the day or do you record it at the point of sale?
yep. at the end of the week - of if you’re really anal like i am - or the end of the day while i’m watching the idiot box, i enter them into my register, scribble a big ‘E’ on the receipt so i know i’ve entered it, and file it away.
GAWDS, NO, don’t do it at POS or the others in line behind you will shoot evil, deathray glances at you and curse your ancestors through the next millennium.
I hate it when: you get off the BART train at the Oakland Airport stop, and for some reason there are about 100 people waiting for the shuttle bus to take them to the airport proper. Since each bus holds maybe 60 people, you realize you’re going to have to wait for the second bus before you can get on, your plane leaves in an hour-and-a-half, and where is that goddam bus, anyway? It’s already been 30 minutes, each shuttle is supposed to be 15 minutes apart, and every 10 minutes, 20 more people come out and add to the crowd.
I really hate it when: you decide to throw caution to the wind and walk to the airport, knowing full well it’s about three miles away, only to discover that there are no sidewalks for the last mile or two of your journey, which you have undertaken in your business clothes and dragging a suitcase-on-wheels, and you have to walk in the dirt and over the ice plants.
I really really hate it when: you finally get to the airport, feet aching, pantlegs dusty and dirty, sweaty and worn out, only to discover that your flight has been delayed three hours and there really was no hurry.
I don’t, really. I do check online with my bank account to see the transactions each week and think to myself “What the hell did I spend $74.23 on at POS_124_CR_SHOP?!” until I remember.
I hate the people who like to stand by the doors on the subway, even when there’s plenty of room inside the car. ** I REALLY hate** the ones who stand there when the doors open and don’t move, blocking you from getting on/off the train.
I also hate bus drivers, the lot of them! They’re all bastards! (Ok, that’s harsh, they’re not ALL bad) But I do hate the ones that have some bug in their ass about being exactly at the bus stop to be picked up/dropped off.
Once, while waiting for the bus, in the pouring rain. The bus arrived but was behind two cars at an especially long red light, ten feet from the bus stop. The driver refused to let me on, because he wasn’t techincally at the stop. I stood there, in the pouring rain, knocking on the bus door while the driver just pointed at the stop! Then, when the light changed, he had to nerve to drive past the stop, leaving me in the rain!
I hate when I step off the bus at the Park-n-Ride, I send my brain off to the little pidgeon-hole of short-term-memory that remembers where I parked and it replys:
“Syntax Error. No value in pidgeon-hole.”
I say “Wha? Return value from ‘where’d I park’ pidgeon hole!”
“Null Value, there is nothing stored here.”
Then my traffic routing subroutine pipes in:
“Um, sir, you took the light-rail today. You’re now 12.5 miles from your car, with no non-embarrasing way to get to it due to current mass transit options.”
I then walk to daycare, call the wife, and she and my 3 year olds make merciless fun of me all the way to the light rail station.
[sub]It’s only happened once. I swear. Wanna see the scars?[/sub]
