New Minirants! Now with Zesty Filling!

The BBQ Pit
1

The old mini-rant thread is off the page, so here’s a new one for a Friday afternoon.

My current two:

  1. Why in the name of sweet fancy Moses can people not freaking RSVP? Is it the fact that it’s in French? And initials only? Do they think “RSVP?? What on earth does that mean?” No, of course not: They are lazy fuckers who won’t pick up the freakin’ phone or drop a freakin’ e-mail to let you know if they are attending. I am in charge of invitations for a surprise birthday party for my mom where we are expecting 60 people. And I’m trying to get the guest list corralled from North Carolina, when the party will be (and most of the guests are) in Montana. There is space in a restaurant that must be reserved by number of guests. There is a cake that must be ordered by number of guests. The invitations when out 3 weeks ago, the party is in two weeks and HALF the guest list has not responded. So I am making long-distance call after call, leaving messages and listening to lame-ass excuses (Oh, did I forget to call you?) or non-excuses (Of COURSE we’re coming, Jodi, we wouldn’t miss it; you know that.) A pox on every one of your heads!

  2. Yes, Mr. Bank Drive-up Teller Man, I do want to deposit that check. That’s why my signature and the words “FOR DEPOSIT ONLY – CHECKING” are on the back. No, I don’t know my account number; that’s why I included my driver’s license. Yes, I realize this means you must take your thumb out of your ass as you stare vacantly at the deserted drive through lanes and actually look my account number up on your computer, but I’d appreciate it if you could manage that without sighing and rolling your eyes. Kaythanx.

Gah!

2

And from the other side of the counter…

I can look up your name without your library card. I just need your license? I’m sorry if it’s a hassle, but no, I can’t just “look you up” because I don’t know who you are. I’m sorry that now you have to rummage in that 10,000 pound purse for your license or you have to go back out into the rain for your ID but if you’re coming to the library, you should have come prepared. So yes, I will be annoyed with you for that.

3

This is probably going to sound greedy or entitled or something, but…

I WANT MY COMPUTER!!! I went on a three week vacation and didn’t come back, so I asked my parents to send me some essentials down–mainly, some clothes and my computer. The clothes I’ve gotten, and weren’t the most important bit in my mind. The computer was. My new husband and I are both gamers–we met via WoW in fact, and both still play. Having one computer for two gamers does not go well, especially when they’re accustomed to playing an MMO together. It’s driving us both up the wall.

(To be fair, it was difficult to get it shipped, and is finally being sent today. It’s just been too long without it already.)

4

Wheee! A place to add yet another complaint to the pile I’m collecting regarding the previous owners of our new-to-us house. (these people have been a pain in my ass since February)

You told me the attic was insulated. Did it yourself! You even put handy boards across the joists so we could store stuff and walk around up there! I could poke my head up and take a look!

Insulated for certain values of the word insulated where “insulated” means “only above the master bedroom.”

Now I realize I should have done a more thorough inspection, but the truth is I didn’t care. I expected crap like this and am not the least bit surprised, and really didn’t expect the attic to be insulated anyway. When you are buying a house for a song because the windows are falling out of their glazing and the fireboxes are missing or decomposing in many of the six fireplaces and you can see that pretty much every room needs replastering, you aren’t surprised to find these things. What I object to is the dishonesty. The previous owner could have told me that he *started * insulating and that would have been fine. He could have not said a word about insulation and I would have assumed the house had none and still would have offered the same amount of money.

Dishonest dork.

5

This week, we had a vist from a rep from the testing company with whom we contract most of our QA work, and my boss (whom I like quite a bit) seemed to go out of her way to confirm the stereotype of the insular, ignorant American, including:

a) asking if the rep was born in Montreal. A reasonable question, considering that’s where the testing house is located, except that she asked this after listening to the guy talk for forty five minutes in a distinct German accent.

b) taking ten minutes to describe the mechanics of the reality-TV-show-of-the-moment in tedious detail. Which had absolutely nothing to do with the topic being discussed at the time. Although it did give me the opening for this line:

Boss: Do you get that show, Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader, in Canada?
Rep: (in German accent) I do not think so…
Me: I think their version is called, Are You Smarter than an American?

The rep seemed to appreciate that line a lot more than anyone else in the conference room.

c) joking about Quebec separtism. Because this topic is high-larious to Canadians.

:smack: Yeesh.

6

I stepped away from my desk for a few minutes a little while ago, then sat back down and got back to work. I glaced to my left and noticed that someone had put a book on my desk, propped up against the cubicle wall so I’d be sure to see it. Take God At His Word, it’s called. All about turning control of your finances over to the big guy.

It’s so inappropriate I don’t even know where to start. I’ve sent an email around to the people who sit near me, asking if anyone put a book on my desk. When I find out who it was, we will have a wee little talk.

7

I am a recovering coffee addict who holds myself to one, maybe two cups a day. I really appreciate that one cup. (Yes, even if it’s Tim Hortons.) I buy my coffee in a thermos mug partly to save trees and partly because I like my coffee really hot. Well, mostly the latter.

We measured it once and it’s 14 ounces (smaller than most travel mugs). When I worked at Timothy’s a medium was 12 oz and a large was 16 oz, but that was years ago, and since then they’ve upsized everything and gotten rid of the small. Other shops have different sizes, and nobody seems to know how many ounces they hold. And of course they can’t ring it in until they know what size it is.

So regularly, far more often then really seems imaginable, I hand them the cup and say “fill er up, black, please” and they look at me, puzzled, and ask me what size it is, which of course I can’t answer because “size” is so ephemeral in coffee shops. I say “14 ounces” and they look puzzled again. so I sigh and say “medium” (because I’ve got a much bigger mug at home that I rarely use, and there seems to be a consensus that that one is a “large,” but if I say this one is “small” they look skeptical, and really, at that point I just want to stop talking about it and drink my goddam coffee).

So then I pay $1.13 or $1.23 at Tim Hortons, $1.60 at the Second Cup, I think a bit less at Starbucks (but I’ve only been once), $1.69 at Timothy’s, and $1.70 at the shitty cafe near my office that I’m never going back to again. (that coffee was BAD.) Once they figure out what size it is, it is standard for them to give you 10 cents off for bringing your own cup (except at Tim Hortons which has saved the extra reliance on independent thought and added extra buttons - “small” “small mug” etc - to their registers). Sometimes they don’t.

(I know that the cost of the fill up is very cheap. Lots of places just charge everyone a small for a travel mug fill up and, I will note, almost every manager of a chain store. so this rant is clearly and firmly directed at the peons, of whom I think quite highly, which is why this burns me so.) I don’t cause a stink if they charge me more than they should, because I don’t make a stink if they charge me less. I usually end up on top.)

Keep in mind this has ALL gone down before I get my first inhalation of my morning coffee. Think of my state of mind. But I am a soldier and I can deal with all that.

But for heaven’s sake, people at Tim Hortons near my office: if you’re going to charge me MORE than everyone else at your store does (including your manager), for the love of all that is holy, FILL IT UP TO THE TOP. don’t leave a gap. I don’t need room for cream because I take it black. Which you know because if I’d wanted milk or sugar I’d have told you and you’d have put it in before you handed it to me. Why do you leave so much clearance at the top of the cup?

Why? Why?

Lament! Lament!

8

Oh, so many ways to respond to that at work. I would probably start a campaign of bringing in propaganda for devil-worship, pro-choice, pro-homosexual, pro-gay marriage, pro-everything fundies hate and casually leaving it scattered around at work. It would be so ON!

And where’s my zesty filling? I was promised zesty filling!

9

Oh, so many ways to respond to that!

10

Oh, it’s on, featherlou. It’s on. (I just need to find out who did it.) Meanwhile various coworkers have been popping by to see if it’s anything interesting and then giving me good anti-proselytizing lines. Step one will be inviting the person to fish it out of my recycling bin.

11

Bathroom rants:

  • Nothing beats starting my day by getting in the shower without being able to see yet only to have a nice big hairy spider crawl across my naked foot. I’m awake now - thanks Charlotte!

  • I love you honey, but why do you keep secretly taking all the towels from the bathroom without telling me and not putting new ones back? Of course being early in the morning I don’t notice such things (and can’t see yet) and have to go downstairs naked and cold and wet and blind to the linen closet, trailing wet footprints all over the hardwoods. Whee!!

  • Oh, good. Chewbacca has once again used MY hairbrush and hasn’t bothered removing the giant clumps of hair from the bristles. It’s bad enough that your hair is all over the shower, drain, walls and ceiling, (still not sure how she does that), but for the thirygajillionth time, stop using my hairbrush!!

  • Of course there’s no toilet paper. Why should there be? I replaced the roll two hours ago, so it stands to reason it would be gone. Yes, honey, I’ll drop everything to bring you another roll. I realize when peeing it’s absolutely necessary for you to spin this giant wad of TP around your hands like Shelob.

  • When I’m taking a shower is the PERFECT time for you to run the washing machine, the dishwasher, and water the garden.

12

To my favourite café, where I spend much of my time:

I love you. You’re conveniently located, beautifully decorated, provide me with free internet, feed me tasty tasty food and serve me great fair-trade coffee. I do have one small objection.

Listen, we live in Montreal. For 7-8 months out of the year, we’re all freezing. We all have to wear heavy sweaters and pants and all that crap. Summer, however, is nice and warm! In fact, today I think it’s 33 degrees out or something. So please tell me why you attempt to simulate winter with your air conditioning? I can’t wear nice, summery clothes to study because I WILL FREEZE TO DEATH. Even wearing my spare sweater (of course I bring one every day) I was too cold to stay as long as I wanted to today. Gah! Let us enjoy the summer while we have it!

13

Here and I was going to post an omnibus pit thread today. But I skipped it in favor of my airport security rant.

  1. People who drive shitty hippie cars.
    People: cut your fucking hair, don’t dress like a transient, put down the bong and get a fucking job. Your stick-it-to-the-man eaerth friendly vehicle isn’t actually earth friendly if its dripping oil and transmission fluid all over the road.

And the 60’s are over. Grow up.

  1. The sound that plastic shopping bags make when rustled.
    Fuck, that is the most annoying sound on the planet.

  2. People who give their kids stupid names.
    Celebrities with their "apple"s and "shariah"s and god knows what else are bad enough. But when normal peasants give their kids dumbass names, they are just setting them up for failure. Brilliant, mom - name you kid in such a way that everyone who meets them knows or assumes that they grew up in the shittiest ghetto/white-trash encampment known to man

  3. People who drive too slow.
    I’m not talking about people who drive carefully, I’m talking about the (insert age/gender/racial stereotype here)'s who seem to think that there is a 15mph speed limit, regardless of whether the actual speed limit is 15 or 65. Why do you people drive so fucking slow? Can you not see? If not, you shouldn’t be driving anyway.

  4. People who actually think the bartender is their friend.
    Guess what fuckwads: unless you’ve actually known the guy for a number of years, and do things together outside of the bar and customer/service industry context, he is just being nice so you will give him a good tip. He is not your fucking friend, so don’t act like it. You’re just annoying all the other patrons.

  5. People who don’t tip.
    This bears repeating. You CAN afford to tip. I’m suspicious of people who just happened to only have exact change for a $23.85 pizza. If you just don’t want to, that’s a whole 'nother rant and thread. But don’t insult my intelligence.

  6. People who don’t know what street/town they live on/in. When I take orders over the phone, you would be stunned to see how common this is.

  7. People with too many tattoos (covering large portions of their body).
    Unless you’re a circus freak, it’s not “body art”. It’s just bullshit for people with too much personal baggage. Get over your shit and stop grossing people out. Way to ruin a cool thing by overdoing it.

  8. People who report other people for being terrorists.
    You know the type. The fox news-watching, 65 IQ-having degenerates who call the FBI anytime they hear someone talking about terrorism, saying anything bad about the Pres’dent or Dale Earnhardt, or if they see a brown-skinned person.

  9. People who talk about the immigration debate as though they mean anything other than “Mexicans” (which includes any brown-skinned person originating from south of the Gadsden Purchase).
    No one cares about Germans or Brits or any other white person overstaying their visa or coming here without one. You just don’t like Mexicans. Admit it. You know they aren’t stealing our jobs, because YOU sure as hell aren’t going to pick strawberries for $2 a day. Hell, if you would, that would only result in higher prices for the consumers, harder times for the producers, and less social security REVENUE for the government from the illegal use of stolen SS numbers.

  10. People who bitch too much.
    Verbally. Bitching and moaning online is ok. That’s what it’s there for.

14

I am in a foul mood, progressively declining, for multiple reasons including (but not limited to) the following:

The garden needs rain and none is in the forecast.

My kitchen has been demolished (it is called “remodeling”).

My dogs have arthritis.

The Middle East is increasingly being run by people who wave semiautomatic rifles in one hand and a Koran in the other, and fail to see the irony involved.

I am on call for pathology services this weekend and there are already two amputated legs in the cooler.
I am desolate.

15

What, there are people who name their kids after Islamic law?

16

Congrats!

Sounds like a fairly eventful “three week vacation”, as these things go.

17

Hee.

Jackmannii (are you named after the lovely clematis?), my garden needs weeding with a nice, potent herbicide, and it won’t stop or start raining. Every day this week, I could have gone out and hosed everything down, but it needs three rainfree hours, and all day every day it threatens rain and then doesn’t (mostly). I am so going to kill all those weeds the day it clears up nicely.

18

I thought I was the only one who hated this! My mom always sympathetically says “Oh no, it’s a crackly bag!” if she sees me cringing in the vicinity of one.

19

I was mocking the parents of young Miss Cruise. But Shariah would be better than whatever the hell they named her.

Good god. I hate that sound. Especially when I hear it while I’m trying to concentrate on something. Definitely the worst sound on the planet.

20

I went in for an interview today. They made me fill in an application. Um, hello? Why do I bother with a resume then? Every job that I ever had that was crap made me fill out an application. Every job I ever had that was awesome didn’t. The job that started awesome but turned into crap had me fill out an application. Bleagh Applications are lazy.

To make matters worse they then gave me a sheet of paper with two questions on it and left me alone for 10 minutes to figure them out, to gauge “how I think problems through.” They were, I shit you not, “If you have a 5 gallon bucket and a 3 gallon bucket, how do you measure 4 gallons” and “If you have a pile of red, green, and blue jellybeans, how many do you need to randomly pick to be sure you have 2 of the same color?” I fucking figured these out in grade school, early grade school! I nearly laughed out loud and left, but I really hate current job so I stuck out the whole interview. I did not get a good feeling about it.

On the other hand, the job I really really want still hasn’t called me, and they said they’d call by this coming Monday…anxious anxious! At this point if I don’t get that job, I’m quitting my craptacular current job and temping until I can find something else.