Fuck you, Kroger, for apparently not giving your baggers any training whatsoever.
There are a couple of them who know how to sack groceries in the reusable bags that I bring with me and so carefully arrange on the belt with the items to go in each individual bag.
The vast majority, the ones who do this as a supplement to their Social Security check and the high school and college students, are absolutely clueless. Last night, I had to re-bag my own groceries when the little shit just tossed them in, rotissery chicken with ice cream and all. On top of that, he used six plastic bags in addition, for what fit very easily into the four bags that I’d brought.:smack:
Then I had to get the cashier’s attention from making time with the blonde college girl (which didn’t earn me any willingness to be of assistance) to replace the eggs that the bagger had made a mess of when he carelessly packed them.
This isn’t rocket science, folks. If the mentally challenged guy at Al’s Foodland can do a good job of it, it really shouldn’t be beyond your capabilities.
Thanks for making me smile but I’d probably get in trouble for that. Although I did get snarky with her tonight and she didn’t even notice. She’s making me so stabby I think I may get someone else to work for me tomorrow. As for tonight I am self-medicating with wine and chocolate cake.
I forgot my other rant. Thanks AT&T. I rarely ever need to receive a phone call but today I called my doctor for an Rx that he mentioned for my chronic hives, after waiting hours for a call back I discover that I am unable to receive phone calls. How do you manage to have some major problem with the cell phone towers the one day I actually need to receive a call?
I always bring my ‘official’ PetCoSmart bags when we go to PetCoSmart (I can never remember which one we go to, so it’s PetCoSmart). The last time we were there, I put my canvas bags on the bag ledge. So what does the cashier do? Moves my bags to the side, starts putting my purchases into their supercrappy plastic bags, then putting those into the canvas bags.
Um, no? I admit I was paying more attention to the scanning to the bagging, but when she stopped to put the plastic bag into my canvas one, I asked what she was doing. She just looked at me blankly.
My gripe for today:
I am at a 4 way stop, going east to west. There is a bicyclist on the SW corner, pointed towards the SE corner. I proceed through the intersection the same time the bicyclist DECIDES TO CROSS DIAGONALLY THROUGH THE INTERSECTION. I hit my brakes, he goes around me, slaps the hood of my car and calls me an idiot. No, you fucking moron, you’re lucky I didn’t fucking hit your dumb ass. There is not a catty corner crosswalk. You were pointed SE. Yesterday I had to wait for another nimrod to slowly meander through the same fucking intersection diagonally, but with two toddlers walking alongside of her. No stroller. One kid kept breaking free and trying to run away. Gah.
That’s what my last boss required us to do with the twice-a-day updates… we had to email her “What I did today, by Nava, Senior Consultant” before leaving the office, then we had to email “What I plan on doing today, by Nava, Senior Consultant”, then she’d either come sit with each of us or call us on the phone to get the double report verbally… Excuse me, I have to go hide someplace until this twitch goes away…
Yesterday, we had a visit from the president of a medium-sized company who’s interested in working co-operatively with us on a particular project. We may or may not be interested in working with him, but you never know until you sit down and talk, you know?
A colleague of mine set up this meeting, and was going to give this person a 45-minute tour before sitting down and discussing this particular project with my boss and a couple other people. I know something about this project, but not as much as my colleague. That’s fine, he’s handling it.
Well, Mr. medium-company president rolls in on schedule at 1:30, and my colleague is nowhere to be found. Our quick-thinking security guard finds the only person around who a) knows a little something about the project, and b) is available. That’s me.
I can’t find my colleague either. Since it would be awfully rude to keep someone cooling their heels in the lobby for 45 minutes after inviting them in for a meeting, I take Mr. medium-company president on a tour, literally at a moment’s notice. I don’t really mind giving a tour, but scrambling to do it at the last minute and covering for someone else looks a little unprofessional, you know?
My colleague shows up near the end of the tour. Turns out he was out of the office, giving his son a ride across town.
Exactly. Building maintenance has X number of things to get done in the day; it’s not like all they had to do was swap out the water heaters and then sit around rolling dice the rest of the time. So they scheduled the delivery and then uninstalled the old water heaters so they’d be ready to swap the new ones in as soon as they arrived. Maybe the company delivering the new heaters was also taking the old ones–but maybe that disposal had to be scheduled separately.
So then the new heaters didn’t show up when they were supposed to. The building maintenance did everything they were supposed to, but the delivery people dropped the ball. Don’t be mad at the people in your building for doing their job. Be mad at the ones who threw a wrench in the machine by not showing up at the time they’d agreed to be there.
My point is: *You don’t know *what all goes into making this type of renovation. Maybe I’m a little oversensitive to this kind of thing… I get so sick of constantly hearing people bitch about “Why can’t they just XYZ?!”–mainly about computers–when they clearly have no fucking clue what they’re talking about and XYZ would be not nearly as simple as a layperson would think, and possibly even nigh-impossible.
[del]The reviewer’s probably just an idiot who missed the signs and/or didn’t read the earlier books.[/del] Sniped.
Well, that’s the thing: he didn’t intend to argue that the ending actually was a deus ex machina. He was just using it as a fancy word for “very impressive dénouement.”
I didn’t mean that the signs were subtle and missable; I mean that they were introduced with no Chekhov’s-gun fanfare. They were present throughout the book; it was how the author combined them at the end that was impressive. The reviewer definitely knew about them and he didn’t think the ending actually was a deus ex machina; he was misusing the words.
Could be WORSER!! I once had a boss tell me, pretty patronizingly I might add, precisely where (how far from the top and left-hand margin of the page) and how (exactly horizontal) to place a staple. Documents - even documents to be filed internally, like copies of stuff sent to clients! - had to be stapled precisely this way.
Dear Comcast: You’re one of the largest cable/internet providers in the country. I think you can afford an “edit credit card information” button on your website. Your online help got it completely botched up, and the person on the phone told me that it will now take 30-45 days for the whole thing to cycle back into effect. Meantime, I have to watch for a bill that may or may not arrive and make sure it gets paid so you don’t cut my service off and charge me for a reconnection. And all I wanted to do was change the fucking expiration date!
Why is it that every single fucking company in the world uses the same template for ordering product, and the template has the same fucking flaw in it: when you miss an item that is required, you get a repeat of the necessary screen and a note about what was missing. You fill it in, hit submit…and get bounced back again because you didn’t id your state from the pull-down menu. But you did, 15 seconds ago! Why the hell can’t the state freeze just like everything else on the form? Find the person who coded this in the first place and beat them soundly about the head and shoulders!
If you are in the RIGHT TURN ONLY lane, then you know what your options are when the traffic light turns green? TURN RIGHT. That is your ONLY fucking option. You are not allowed to go straight. You are not allowed to turn left. You are not allowed to sit there jacking off to your perverse sexual fantasies about giving zombie Hitler a rimjob. JUST FUCKING TURN RIGHT. Do not realize at the last fucking minute that Hitler is dead so your fantasies will never come to fruition and suddenly realize you must go straight - you can’t go straight because you’re in the RIGHT TURN ONLY lane you fucking cunt - and stomp on the gas and try to get fucking in front of the car that is in the YOU CAN GO STRAIGHT FROM THIS LANE BECAUSE THIS IS NOT THE RIGHT TURN ONLY LANE, in the process forcing the bicyclist in the bike lane (which is between the TURN RIGHT YOU FUCKING STUPID WHORE LANE and the THIS IS THE LANE YOU NEED TO BE IN TO GO STRAIGHT DUMBASS LANE) to slam on her brakes and fling herself off her bike to the side in order to avoid riding straight into the driver’s side door of your shitty-ass Grampa-mobile, resulting in a nice imprint of her bicycle pedal in the flesh of her leg.
I hope you get eaten by a fucking bear, you fucking miserable little pustule of idiocy.
