Wow. Hostile much?
I provided a perfectly polite and light-hearted counter-anecdote to your anecdote. I’m sorry put down the sabre was harsher about it, but that’s not my problem.
I don’t particularly care what nationality your name originates from, I’m pretty sure there are black people there, and it would be presumptuous of me to assume they’re not “really” from there because of their skin tone.
Or you could not make assumptions at all. And, more importantly, not use variations of “what are you?” as small talk. The weather. Traffic. Perhaps, if you need to be bold, “rising gas prices” or “sports.” Those topics are much better for interactions with total strangers.
Huh. I always thought that asking people where they’re from was pretty harmless. I’m glad I’ve never run into you.
To the receptionist at the Michigan Works place that I am scheduling an appointment.
You are a cold, detached bitch in a government job.
8am-5pm and you whine how backed up the entire office is dealing with all the out of work people applying for help.
Here is a clue: Work until 8pm every night. Work Saturdays until 2pm. MAYBE THAT WILL HELP push all the out of work people in the area through the farking system.
But see, I don’t give a crap about any of that. I probably give a crap about where you’re from. I don’t need it to lead to big family cookouts together every weekend, but people can be interesting, and someone who has an interesting topic built right in to themselves can be fun.
Well, it could be, but not if you’re dealing with someone who has a massive chip on their shoulder about slavery…something they weren’t even alive for…
Oh doctor’s office, I shake my fist at you!
I had a blood test this morning, and the doctor’s office was supposed to call with the results in the afternoon. Depending on the results, I might need to have a biopsy tomorrow morning.
OF COURSE NO ONE CALLED ME.
Hey, that’s okay, I can call them. I called just now … and the office closes at 4:30 PM. So I have no idea what the results are. I will have to show up in the morning and maybe have a biopsy and maybe not. I get to spend all night tonight wondering about that. And I will miss that time at my own job even if it’s only to arrive at the doctor’s and be told I can leave.
If I don’t need the biopsy, and those asshats even TRY to charge me the penalty for the same-day cancellation of the appointment, things could get really ugly.
Hah! No ribbing intended, but I had a very similar encounter from the opposite end a while back.
“You’re using the measuring cup to scoop cat food?”
Me: Yes and I’ll wash it afterwards. And?
Funny how different people look at things,.
Note: Obviously for folks of certain religious persuasions they might have different reactions due to ritual contamination issues. But in this case it was my measuring cup and nobody’s going to have much hope of staying truly kosher in my household, anyway. They were just grossed out by my multi-use practicality ;).
There was a thread a while back in which a poster admitted to using his wife’s big soup pot to vomit in while suffering some sort of intestinal distress. His wife was totally grossed out, and wanted to throw the soup pot out. 
Nitpick: Kids don’t whinney. They make more of a “Maa-a-a-a-a” sound. Foals whinney.
And what airline were you riding that allows livestock in the cabin?
I dampened a dishtowel and used it to clean up a mess on the carpet at a friend’s apartment (a whole birthday cake face-down on the floor), and she bitched me out because a.) it was her only dishtowel, and b.) according to her, it couldn’t be re-used, even if it got laundered.
As for the pet food and the measuring cups, ISTM that if there’s something in the food that will contaminate the cup so badly that it can’t be washed, you might want to re-think feeding it to your pet…
No kidding. How dirty was the floor that the towel couldn’t be re-used? For that matter, what the heck was in the cake that made the towel so contaminated? People are funny about that stuff.
And who the hell only has one dishtowel?
Ha! I had a guest who spilled something on my carpet, and rather than using one of my napkins to clean it, ran around looking for paper napkins because letting a stain set into my carpet was less of a concern than getting one of my cloth napkins dirty.
Eyes Tamerlane suspiciously. Makes note never to ask Tamerlane to feed the animals.
Yes, it has been washed and been put away. What bothered me most was that I needed it and couldn’t find it.
And that was about as mini of a rant as I could fit into this thread.
Nothing quite so rational. Just that she grabbed the ‘good’ one when there were 3 or 4 old beat up ones in the same drawer and the one below it, half a dozen scratched up plastic glasses in the cabinet, a dozen promo coffee mugs that have been given to me over the years, and probably 50 Dixie and paper cups in the pantry.
Not quite the mortal sin of using one of my good screwdrivers for a chisel or pry bar when there are literally a dozen beaters laying right next to it, but still.
ETA: So we have a deal now. She doesn’t use my good eqipment/tools and I don’t use her egyptian cotton towels to catch drips when I’m disconnecting the washer.
You know, it’s almost as if other people’s houses are unfamiliar territory, and people don’t know the exactly proscribed right thing to do when something unexpected happens. Wow.
That word. I do not think it means what you think it means.
You know, it’s almost as if other people’s houses are unfamiliar territory, and people don’t know the exact right thing to do when something unexpected happens. Wow.
Your shoelaces are untied.
Mothers who never allow the children to use the guest towels or guest napkins have a lot to answer for.
They are just cloth! Use them! Wash them! The world will not end if someone uses the guest towels!
<shakes tiny fist at universe>
Annie was sitting on my slippers and must have had dingleberries because there’s poop on them. Eeeewww. And I have to wait until my sister’s out of the shower to get in there. (I washed my hands anyways – screw her!)
And then, when I picked up Luci when my mother yelled for a napkin (because I thought SHE needed cleaned up), the dog freaked out, grabbed at me, and tore the top I’m wearing. Dammit!!! And it turned out it was just on the floor. (The dog is pretty protective of the little ones, as well as being very hyper. Not a good combination)
Migraine. I used to silently judge people who complained about migraines. Now I get them. Fuck you, karma.
