Since I have nothing particular better to do today other than wait for a repairman who may or may not be here between 8 and 4 or 10 and 3, I thought I’d just start up a new mini-rant thread.
Here’s hoping the repair on our fridge is quick, easy, and cheap!
My stupid car started in the cold today. I was hoping it wouldn’t so I’d have an excuse to work at home.
Rotten little blue traitor!
Hey boiler guys- 10 AM does not mean 8:15 AM. You’ve been coming early most of last week, which means Mr. Neville is really sleep-deprived. And that means I have to put up with his grumpiness.
I could even win an argument with him- I said it doesn’t get too cold to snow in Pittsburgh, and he said it does. But I don’t have the heart to tell him I told him so, what with him being tired and grumpy.
It’s snowing AGAIN.
How the hell did I manage to run out of dishwasher detergent, and why didn’t I notice I was running out until after I’d gone to the store last week?
It’s still snowing, not heavy, but that fine, doesn’t-ever-stop kind that piles up so you have to shovel the driveway twice a day. I don’t mind shovelling, and I have everything I need for a couple of days (being the Ant who stocks up for such an occasion). It’s the cabin fever that’s going to set in. I see it coming.
Oh, you Sears fuckheads. Yes, just take any old address you have on file and give that to your repairman - don’t bother using the current address I’ve given you multiple times now. What was supposed to be the repairman here in 20 minutes is now the repairman here sometime this afternoon.
Umm, folks, excuse me…I just would like too ask quite kindly that YOU NOT WALK DOWN THE FUCKING MIDDLE OF THE PARKING LOT AISLES!!!
Was doing that over the weekend (something which I normally despise as much as you do) simply because that’s where the pavement was clear with no ice. And everyone in vehicles could line up behind my sorry-ass cause I didn’t want to fall.
Winter sucks - yes I know Canada has it worse - way worse. But that in no way stops it sucking here. I want April. Everything else can go straight to hell, just give me April.
Hey, I get that you probably just wanted a graceful way to get out of seeing my husband and I on New Year’s Eve, since you surely had much better plans. I can understand that. I would have preferred a “sorry, we have a previous engagement and it’ll take up the whole evening” rather than a “we’ll stop by for a bit” which is then cancelled NYE morning with a long phone message about the numerous afflictions you’ve recently come down with, all delivered in a relatively cheery, or at least clear, tone of voice. (The kind of throat infection that you’d mentioned would almost certainly cause a sore throat, at least.)
On the other hand, if you are unfortunate enough to be suffering from all those things at once and still have an unaffected voice, please do me the favor of at least sounding more sick than your voice might suggest.
That’s fair, but I live in California and there was no ice. The folks here who do it are just inconsiderate, oblivious assholes.
I ordered a brand spanking new wet-shaving kit. A Merkur DE razor, sample blades, Proraso shaving cream, and a nice badger hair brush.
The post office lost it, and the company I ordered it from isn’t open again until January 8th. And I am NOT the most patient fellow when waiting for new toys…
I would like for every cashier that stacks up all my receipts and coupons with my cash and drops it into my hand to fall into a pit full of rusted razor wire.
I can be quite the ass taking my time separating all that mess, putting the cash in my wallet and making a point of asking for the bag to drop my receipts into. Really, it would go much smoother if you did that FOR me.
I was tempted to post this as a maxi-rant, but here’s the gist:
So, last night, I’m riding back home on the interstate, with my 7-months-pregnant wife. It’s night time, and we’ve just passed an 18-wheeler. We come over a small rise and we see a few cars (not many), and a strange light on the side of the highway. Yep, and old clunker of a pickup truck has caught fire and is merrily burning away. I glance behind me and see emergency vehicles crossing the median. So help is on the way. Cool. Also, a couple of other cars have stopped to help, and everybody is sort of gawking. I see no evidence that anybody is in danger, or still in the truck, etc.
I move into the left lane to give the folks room. So do the couple of cars ahead of me.
Only…only…what the fuck? They’re stopping! Not just slowing down to rubberneck. STOPPING. In the left lane of the interstate! Good God! Move your ass!
I look in the rearview mirror, and see, looming up from behind, like a black messenger of death and destruction, the 18-wheeler we just passed.
AAAAGH! Fuckfuckfuck! I slam the car into gear, cut hard left, and go slamming directly into the median. I have visions of dying on I-65, or losing my wife and the baby in a horrible, fiery crash.
The 18-wheeler cuts right so hard that he almost jackknifes, right through the spot we’ve just occupied, and misses the last stopped car by, fuck, by millimeters.
So we’re nose down in the median, and this oblivious moron in the car ahead of us, who was only mildly startled by the semi screaming past him, calmly puts his car back in gear and slowly accelerates back up to speed on the highway.
I hate people.
I appreciate your itemizing the ingredients on your “airport grill” menu and permitting me to order my cheeseburger without onion. I wasn’t upset that my request apparently threw your entire system into chaos; eventually you assembled—and then located, bagged, and produced—my lunch.
Future patrons may wish to know in advance that in addition to the lettuce, tomato, and onion you thoughtfully list as standard toppings, their sandwiches will also be dressed with approximately a quart of warm mayonnaise. This knowledge might have prevented my vomiting ground beef, cheese, shredded lettuce, tomato, and revolting egg-mucus all over my American Tourister.
The Religion of Peace once again shows the world how civilized people solve political differences - through blood-soaked fatwas against anyone claiming that they are not the most peaceful religion.
How about when I am Walking in the Frozen Tundra trying to get to my car, and you’re safe and warm in your car, you let ME go first in the crosswalk like the law says I should instead of keeping me out here freezing my A$$ off while you decide where to stick your car (I have ideas I’d be glad to share)
A little courtesy, people. It’s all we ask.
Well, hell; once the nice repairman got here, it took him about five seconds to diagnose the fatal flaw in our refrigerator - if you see water trickling down the back wall of an LG fridge, it isn’t repairable, for any of you who want to save yourself the $80 call-out fee. There is no doubt in my mind that could have been diagnosed over the phone, given the model and the (very common) symptoms, but that’s not how this game is played, apparently. Back to the appliance shops we go, I guess (thank God for Christmas bonuses).
And while they’re at it, walk straight across the road, not at a diagonal. We’re all just trying to get around without killing each other here, people.
I think I have figured out your problem! 
I did say “trying.” 
Heavily pregnant co-worker, please hurry up and go on mat leave already before I am driven to commit an amateur C-section. I like you, and I’m happy for you, but:[ul]
[li]I’m tired of you inflicting your sonogram photos on the entire company. There are a few people who are genuinely interested in seeing them. The rest of us will not be interested until we can see the child in person.[/li][li]I would really appreciate not being forced to listen in on your many, many personal calls on every shift, to your mother, your husband, your brother, several doctors, our insurance company, assorted restaurants and resorts, ad nauseam. Once morning I counted seven personal calls less than two hours into your shift, and could have given a word-for-word accounting of most of them, because you also lack an inside voice. There were more that day, but I had work to do and lost count.[/li][li]I (and a few other employees) are sick and tired of cleaning up after all the mistakes you’ve been making recently and passing off as due to ‘placenta brain’, with a giggle and smile. If you know you’re more absent-minded than usual lately, then you need to pay closer attention to what you’re doing. Sadly, our boss also seems to think this is amusing and cute, and refuses to call you on your mistakes, lighten your workload, or encourage you to go on mat leave earlier than planned.[/li][/ul]
And despite my personal resolution not to take this out on her in any way because I get that pregnancy is difficult and stressful and I really do like the woman, I somehow managed to catch flak* for ‘being mean to [pregnant co-worker] and hating babies’.
*Not from [pregnant co-worker]. I cleared that up right away. But someone in the office is interpreting my lack of raving enthusiasm negatively and projecting just a bit.