Dear cow-orker from another department, 1 aisle over:
If you have a question for me, attract my attention by saying “Excuse me,” or “Hello, Daithi,” or any number of other social lubricants. Don’t stand just outside my cubicle wall and say, “Knock Knock!” I can’t stand it when you do it, and you do it Every Single Fucking Time. It’s not cute, it’s not clever, it’s not original. It wastes my time, and makes you look like an oaf.
And then when you have gotten my attention - and this goes for **all ** of you, by the way - have a fucking clue about what you’re asking me. If I was working when you walked up, it means I’m busy. If my break sign is up it means I’m taking a break, which we’re allowed, twice a day. And if my lunch sign is up, it means I’m not getting paid for you to hem and haw and to admit, “I don’t really know who this should go to, and I’m awful busy right now …” Dammit! I just want to …
People who mosey across a 40mph road at an intersection that does not have a marked crossing section.
Newsflash for you, dude, moseying is not the same as hurrying up. Alternatively, you could stop to let traffic past instead of expecting a ton of steel and fiberglass to stop inside a very short distance for you.
While I can understand that you might not want to go down to where there IS a crossing, what I don’t get is why you aren’t scurrying. And use the brains that God gave little green apples. Stepping in front of multiple cars moving at a good clip is a way to shuffle off this mortal coil Real Soon Now. :eek: :mad:
Stop ignoring my non-verbal cues. It’s rude to keep jabbering on when it’s obvious your audience is busy or concentrating on other things. Especially when you’re talking about stupid, boring-ass, self-absorbed stuff.
Don’t involve me in your crazy moods. Be crazy when I’m not in the room.
In a similar vein, let me add this Dear Coworker: If you want my attention, say my damned name. Or “excuse me,” or hell, even “hey you, shaddup and look at this!” Don’t just fucking mosey over to my desk, sit down across from me, and wait. I have other things to do besides jump at your implied behest. If you want me to acknowledge you, you ought to at least acknowledge me first.
I simply assume that noone could possibly be so inconsiderate as to block the way. I must therefore be hallucinating. There obviously is no cart/person in the way. So simply walk straight through the mirrage. Surprisingly enough many obstructions miraculously dissapear when they see someone walking straight for/through them
Yeah, that confused me too. I think the problem is that the server just said Quesadilla con pollo, that is, chicken quesadilla, and not quesadilla con pollo pero no pimiento(?), which would be chicken quesadilla without peppers.
People in a fastfood line who ask questions about **every. damned. item. on. the. menu. ** when there’s a line of people waiting. HELLO!! Just order a burger, or a salad, or a sandwich, or whatever, as your private dietary practices dictate and move along.
Last night about 11 pm the woman in front of me at the supermarket check-out was lazily putting one item at a time on the conveyor belt so that I couldn’t use the divider and load my groceries (the auto conveyor moves all items to the cashier). She’d add one item, wait for the cashier to scan it, then add another.
She then had the neve to walk away from the line in search of something with about 6 items left in her cart.
She took her place and asked the cashier to ring the new item without even a smile of apology to all of us on line. She then resumed the one item at a time loading.
After she finally paid for her purchases she stayed where she was to go over the receipt oblivious to the people behind her. I said “excuse me” and she gave me a look and stormed off.
People who are unable to grasp relatively simple concepts and complain that they don’t understand these things, despite the fact that they have put forth absolutely zero effort to even try to understand the concept and also despite the fact that the concept has been thoroughly explained numerous times. If you don’t try, you forfeit the right to complain about it. It’s not that I hate ignorance, I just hate ignorance coupled with (1) a lack of effort to overcome the ignorance and (2) complaints that it’s too complicated.
Example: certain relatives who still don’t know how to save a document and attach it to an email message. C’mon, it’s pretty basic, and I’ve explained it to you numerous times, including a written primer with graphics and diagrams. Don’t tell me you “don’t understand anything about it”- it’s not something you even have to understand- just follow the diagram! Aaaaaarrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhh!
And another thing about pedestrians. When you’re crossing the vehicle lanes in a parking lot, cross perpendicular goddamnit. You jackasses who take a shallow angle across the damn thing, or walk two abreast down the center, are impeding traffic. And although I drive a small car, it still outweighs your baggy-sweat-pant-clad ass.
And something else that’s always bugged the hell outta me. You clowns who’re so chilly you gotta put on a jacket or sweatshit, but are still wearing shorts and goddmned sandals (sometimes even with *socks - what the fuck is that all about?).
I will lean on my horn when the light turns green and the oblivious moron in front of me is yakking on his cell phone and doesn’t move. That’s after I’ve tapped it twice and I know the light’s about to turn yellow.
You, in the crosswalk. Yeah, you’re a pedestrian and you have the right-of-way. That means you get your ass across the street. You don’t casually saunter, and then stop mid-lane and fiddle with your iPod. Get across and then change the song.
See the sign in the school driveway that says, “Buses Only”? Are you driving a bus? No, you’re not. Then stop going down that lane. You’re not priviledged.
Or even worse, flat out refuse to learn it. “I don’t know anything about it and it’s better that way! You can’t teach an old dog new tricks!” Come on people - why are you willfully trying to be stupider???
I worked with a woman who wanted me to publish a document she wrote on some stupid website. I was an admin assistant with no web publishing skills other than those I’d picked up, say, here. She was so computer illiterate she had no idea how unreasonable her request were. But as an admin assistant I didn’t have much else to do so I didn’t mind puzzling it all out.
The worst was the hyperlink, she refused to learn how to put a hyperlink into a Word document. So she developed an elaborate system where she would print out her document and with a pencil, write out a careful description of what word should be underlined and where you should be directed when you click it. I tried to show her that by pressing “control+K” she could do it herself in mere moments, less time than it would take for her to find a pencil, let alone write out the instructions and walk over to my cube and explain to me carefully what she wanted.
You see this quite often in Southern California, where I’m sure there are many guys between 15 and 30 who own no other kind of pants than shorts. It’s not as ridiculous as it sounds; you can have exposed legs and still feel warmer generally by putting on a jacket or sweatshirt. In a similar way when I’m sleeping at night I usually have a couple of cats draped over my lower legs; the heat they generate makes all of me feel warm to the point where I use neither blankets nor a pajama top for my upper body.
I posted about this a short time ago, but it’s worth posting again. I worked with a woman years ago who refused to learn how to do envelopes on her (then) brand-new computer and laser printer. She’d give them to me, with the address handwritten on a Post-It note stuck to the envelope and “Address this for me, pls.”
She still even had a typewriter in her office, or could have handwritten the damn thing in less time than it took to write it on the Post-It with her extra note.
Every damn time.
She had that certain kind of laziness, what would you call it? She’d walk 100 feet down the hall to take the elevator, rather than take the stairs, right outside our office, because she didn’t want to walk down the steps. She’d rather walk 100 feet out of her way, to take the elevator, rather than exert herself on the stairs.
I just don’t get it.
