Well, it would have been helpful advice if I were a new Kindle owner. Instead, it was like you walked up to somebody who owned a car and said that if they’re having problems seeing in the rain, there are these things called “windshield wipers” you can turn on that wipe the windshield for you. 
No, I was assuming you had never held the cover w/ light in your hand and was attempting to provide some from-the-field feedback.
And just because you have a Kindle doesn’t mean you have a case for it: many people use sleeves or nothing at all. Enough people have had problems with the hinge issue that some would write negative reviews on Amazon complaining about how the cover broke their Kindle, though if one inspects the mechanism it is easy to see why.
Sorry for trying to be helpful. Didn’t know I would annoy you.
Hey, all *I *said was “thanks.”
Children, children! Play nice.
Dear Fairmont Hotel of Pittsburgh,
It’s clear you guys don’t know what you’re doing. It’s like you want all the prestige, clout and people that come with a Ritz or a Four Seasons yet you spectacularly fail to take care of the “little things”. The door of your restaurant’s bathroom should not need me, a weightlifter in her 20’s, to push on the door with all of my ample weight and both hands. What are your older guests and disabled guests doing exactly? Your staff shouldn’t be surly or even worse, “fake polite”. Nor do you need a pewter water pitcher that looks like a frog.
When I called for a reservation, you shouldn’t have said that the 1pm booking was “all full” when, if I arrived at 130 for my own reservation, the place was mostly empty. Hint: if you want to make money, you might want to have more people eat there. Just sayin’.
Please do not offer me dessert but fail to offer coffee or tea, or ask if we want appetizers or something to drink initially. You deserve every one of your crappy Urbanspoon ratings for good food (AAA’s 4 Diamond award) and abysmal service. Oh, and those little metal menus? They’re annoying.
The hotel itself needs some kind of ambiance. The place is like a graveyard. Try music, try team building, but something needs to replace the overwhelming stench of failure due to pre-recession ideals in there.
“Nor do you need a pewter water pitcher that looks like a frog.”
This is a filthy lie. *Everybody *needs a pewter water pitcher that looks like a frog.
Yup.
That’ll do.
This is exactly how I felt about the Biltmore in Coral Gables. Dated feeling, food kind of sucked, overcharged for everything as if they were a five star, but not one; OTOH, nice staff and really good water pressure for an ancient hotel.
If I find something on my credit card statement that I don’t recognize, I just dig a little deeper - I don’t think I’ve had a transaction on there yet that wasn’t mine. Yup, I’ve had that experience, too. 
Heh, my Dad didn’t tell me that my Aunt had died for three weeks, even though he talked to me twice in that time. I didn’t find out until well after the funeral when my brother (who was travelling abroad and naturally assumed Dad *would *have told me) emailed to ask why I hadn’t at least been in touch with my cousins. Aren’t families great?
Mold is growing on my mouse pad at work. Why is mold growing there? It doesn’t get damp. It is not humid in my office; in fact, the opposite is true. There is no reason for green-black spotty mold to be spreading over my mouse pad like an alien growth. How is it even surviving on a hard plasticky surface? 
Did you touch the meteor-shit?
You have AIDS. Can I have your stuff?
Betcha a co-worker spilled Sprite or something on it and won’t fess up.
Dammmit dammit dammit!!
My husband drove the van to the grocery store last night and apparently forgot to put the keys back. Not a big deal on a normal day, buuuuuuuuuuut …
AT&T was supposed to send out a technician between the hours of 8AM and noon. My older son apparently has pink-eye, so we had a tentative doctor’s appointment scheduled for him at 1:30. (one DR was out for the day and the other was just covering appointments this morning). I got a call at 11:30 from ATT saying that their technician was running late and was that still OK? NO! I have a doctor’s appointment. So I call back the pediatrician and say that we will be there, and they ask if I can come in early. Sure! So we spend the next ten minutes frantically changing clothes and putting on socks and shoes and coats and are ready to dash out the door when I see … no keys. DAMMIT.
Call my husband - do you have my keys???
He says oh yeah sorry 'bout that I meant to call you this morning! Can I bring them to you later?
NO! Dammit … the doctor’s going to leave at 12:30 and be gone for the day.
ARGH!!! So he’s coming home as soon as he can to bring me the keys so we can at least go to MedCheck. I would love to take him to MinuteClinic, since they’re closer, but they’re not a covered provider.
GRRRRR!
You wouldn’t have this problem if you only knew how to hotwire a car. Bet you regret not having a misspent youth now.
Why the hell do We have to wait a month to get our W2s. I want my money back now dammit. Hell, just post my final paystub online already and I’ll calculate it out myself. It not like we are waiting for a bunch of guys in Green visors to add it all up. The Computer already knows everything just start the batch send process on Dec 31st.
Avarie537, I’m sorry. Sounds like a day from hell that only a good mom could have :(. Copy the key when you get a chance so you each have your own?
The van is “my” car and it’s new enough (2005) that it has one of those keys with a chip in it that you have to get copied at the dealership for upwards of $100. Anyway … he did bring me the keys and I decided to Google “immediate care” and found a newer place (less than a year open) that’s about 3.5 miles from home (straight shot up ones street) as opposed to 8.5 miles on the interstate. No line, no wait, in and out in 45 minutes.
And yes, he has pink eye, and of course his little brother started with the goopy eyes later on that night.
You are a cashier.
I am a customer.
Asking how you are doing is just being polite.
Telling me you’re on your period is far more information than I needed.
See, this is why I never ask how people are. (Well, that and because I usually don’t really care.)