Complaint After Complaint

I know, I know. I’ve touched this topic before, but seriously, no one will learn. First off, I am an idiot. I will admit that. Ladies? Don’t you love a man who will admit when they are wrong? Well I am not in the mood for you to get your lady hands all over me so find someone else to fondle. I love my car. I love my bike. With this being said, I don’t love a lot of things. Burritos, that’s another one. Pizza? You bet. Coming home early so that I can be “green” and ride my bike to work and not being able to find a spot ever…not something I love.

With that being said, let’s go back to the time that I called myself an idiot. Remember that? Well I live on a street with a hospital on it, so everyone who makes that one trip to visit their grandma or see their stupid little brother that broke his arm jumping from couch to couch over the weekend when mom and dad went out to get lunch and left you and him along for an hour.

My complex is not too bad. It’s close to stuff I like and people that I love, but seriously…there is a parking ramp across the street from the hospital. Use it so that people who pay too much in rent and actually live in the houses and don’t have a garage or driveway like you lucky people in the suburbs can park somewhere.

So enjoy that global warming feeling today because I was trying to cool things down a notch with the ol’ BMX. It’s better when it’s warm out, anyhow.

Sometimes it’s hard to drive in the snow. I know that my car is actually pretty terrible and I am a good winter driver. Because of that, I take it a little slower on turns and have mastered counter steering and E-Brake slides. I’m ready for what the winter has to throw at me. Let me tell you who is not ready in a segment I’d like to call, “Why are you braking?”

Imagine, if you will, a bad storm. I don’t know if you like in snowy areas like I do, but for you tropical folks, imagine driving through those wicked hurricane-esque thunderstorms and we will be on the same page. So we’re driving. We’re driving 10+ under the speed limit and we might even still be going a little fast, but we know how to drive so we are under control. We are at 10 and 2 or that new one that they decided was better or we drive a stick and are just intently clutching and shifting to best suit the weather. Then we approach a car, or in 98% of cases, a minivan with their brake lights on. So you have to do that “almost woah” brake because their could be something in front of that car like a deer or an accident or a snow dune or whatever. You drive behind this person for what feels like an eternity but is only a quarter mile. They have hit the brakes at least fourteen times and you are baffled and have no idea what could be in front of them. You decide to pass them only to find that there is nothing in front of them and they are just driving like a dick. It happens to me every time it snows like crazy. People just tap the breaks constantly. You know what you can do to save me the headache and you the cost of new brakes every other week? Drive slower. That’s it. Less gas means that you don’t need the brakes so much. It’s so easy it’s amazing that you hadn’t thought of it earlier. Well, you were probably too busy braking to think of it. Trade in your car for a bus pass and get off the road because you are going to kill someone driving like an asshole way before you spin off the road.

It’s cold in winter. You know it, I know it. I was driving home the other day and the thermometer in my car told me it was -5° outside. I’ve never seen it that cold without the wind chill. It was nice in my car and I didn’t have a jacket on, but that’s because I was in the car for over three hours on my way home from Pennsylvania. The windows were freezing, though. I could breathe and fog up my windows and it was easily 70° in my car. So why do you wear shorts in the winter? I don’t think that it’s a manly thing. Have you just watched Survivorman or that one where the British guy pees on everything. Well you’re not. You’re some dude that probably has a drawer of pants that are collecting dust because their jerk owner is wearing shorts on days where thermal underwear is not out of the question. Is it because you don’t live with your parents anymore and don’t have to worry about your mom saying, “Put a jacket on. You’re going to get frostbite.” like mine did. I am happy that she did because when you are outside with your jean shorts and hoodie and gloves and winter hat, half way acknowledging that it is cold enough for winter clothes, I am wearing pants and am pretty bundled up.

I hope that you have insurance for when the hospital has to amputate your stupid bare legs. I’m just concerned, you know?

okay, here’s a phenomenon that seems almost exclusive to scene trash. are you really wearing a little silver or pink brass knuckles charm around your neck? i mean, honestly? this is ALMOST as ridiculous as gun tattoos on the hips with the exception of the fact that tattoos are permanent and you could potentially remove your brass knuckles necklace and throw it in the trash and pretend that you were never stupid enough to go to www.trashvilleusa.com and buy such a thing in the first place. i mean, have you ever even SEEN real brass knuckles? probably not. do you even care? again, probably not.
let’s go through a quick rundown of the types of girls who wear these things, shall we?
so along with a brass knuckles charm necklace a really good piece of scene trash might also have a pair of flats with hot pink skulls on them, cheap skinny jeans, a pinup girl tattoo, a headband with cherries on it, and a horrific haircut that is an embarrassing combination of asymmetry, long-in-the-front-short-in-the-back (a reverse mullet, if you will), and botched self-color work.
you should be ASHAMED of yourself. go give a hummer to the guy with the red and black hair and the crossed revolvers belt buckle. i hope your brass knuckles necklace strangles you as you sleep passed out on someone’s dirty apartment floor.

so here’s the deal, when i am entering any place of business from a doctor’s office to a bank to a hardware store, i expect to be treated as though my business is welcome. working in the service industry myself, i know it is not particularly hard to welcome customers unless they are rude to you first. i’m polite to those receptionists when i enter the doctor’s office, i expect them to return the favor.
now, i get that you hate your tedious job and you want to take it out on me because my job is more fun than yours AND i probably make more money and am 20 years your junior, but IF you MUST be rude to me could you AT LEAST be able to do your job well? i am positive i’d be more patient about your stinky attitude if you were able to help me make an appointment without crossing your eyes at me like i’m asking you to split an atom when i asked you to schedule an appointment for me. you’ve got two options, rudeness or incompetency. you do not get to do both. those two qualities do not go well together. i mean really, you have to be kidding me. especially the old woman who takes my co-pay, seriously, i will reach across that counter and yank the wig off her head if it’s the last thing i do.
so seriously, get your shit together people. you don’t get to be a jerk to me because i am asking you to perform a seemingly simple task that isn’t just a part of your job but it literally IS your ENTIRE job. please believe that the minute i see you raise one eyebrow at me like i am inconveniencing you i will do my best to make sure i am the most unpleasant person you’ve dealt with in years.
and yes, i did use a picture from don’t tell mom the babysitter’s dead for this entry.

You know what you are? You are one of two things.
1. You are a poor kid that needs a job in the “tech” field.
2. You are a crappy graphic artist who can’t hack it in the art world so you decide to act like you are better than everyone that comes into Kinko’s

It’s true. You employees think that you are so smart when you don’t even know how to use the machine’s that surround you for your one eight hour shift per week. Practice makes perfect and you have not practiced. I go to Kinko’s when I need copies. It’s nothing hard and I could take care of the math at home, but if I’ve got something that’s 11×17 and need to get it down to print on a standard, 8.5×11 sheet of paper, I understand that there will be extra blank space on the sides due to the ratio difference. Just do what I ask for. I went yesterday with just this situation and said, “Could I have this print copied so that it tiles four on an 8.5×11?”. The guy said he could and then ran an unnecessary $2 print on the color machine even though the print was black and white and proceeded to print four on an 11×17. See my problem? You’re an idiot. It’s simple. I could do it but you approached me so I thought you could do it with less tests than me. Let’s do some basic math to baffle the employees shall we?

If the initial paper is 11×17 and we need it to fit on a page 8.5×11 we have to know where the cropping is going to happen. The first page is going to have to crop down due to the uneven ratios so we have to shrink it down so that the 17 fits into 11.
11/17 = appx. 65%
So there. If we make the print 65% smaller, we can fit it on the desired sheet. There will be about an inch and a half on one side, but we don’t even care about that. So there, we’ve done it. We’ve outsmarted Kinko’s again with 5th grade math.

Stop charging me for your mistake and stop hiring kids that don’t know how to work the machines that you pay them to use.

Ugh…

I should just leave it at that. Right there. Done…but I can’t. Sorry friends. People kill me. They will be the death of me. Sometimes I want to take care of myself myself. There is a lot of things that I will miss, but some things I will not miss a single percent. For example…

I was driving down the street yesterday, on my way to get a nice lunch with my girlfriend. Morale was high. Spirits were high. Then I came to a stop light and caught something out of my peripheral vision. There was a group of people walking down the street. To my recollection, there was two women and three men. On top of that, there was a stroller and one of the women was carrying an infant on her shoulder under a blanket. On this particular corner, there are a series of shops. Grocery on the left, eyeglasses and restaurant on the right. “Mike, that’s only three shops. Isn’t there supposed to be four?“ Why yes, there is. The last spot on this particular corner was a head shop. “What’s a head shop?“. Seriously? I don’t even do drugs and I think that my mom, who also doesn’t do drugs told me what it was. I think that she told me when I was young, too. How I retained that I have no idea.

So I am on the corner for the worlds longest red light and I am looking at this family thinking, “Please don’t go into that place.” and about twenty seconds later, they went in there.

What part of you would think that’s a good idea. You can take your baby to bars and it’s better. I think that it’s about the equivalent of bringing a baby to a strip club. I mean all strip clubs, guys who think that they are going to a classier strip club. Let me ask you a question. Are you eating and drinking less than 5 feet from some womans gaping vagina? Then it’s disgusting. Cover your glass when she walks over because crabs are known to jump over ten feet.

What are you going to do when you are in there? Are you going to look for bongs with friendly faces on it so the kids don’t get scared that there is a 68 year old man that still talks about Woodstock like it was yesterday and smells like tree bark and pachouli and has been wearing the same Grateful Dead shirt since the ’76 tour? If you live close enough that you can walk to the shop, than you live close enough to leave your kids at home with someone that’s a little more responsible than you and go get your rolling papers without your kids pullings pipes off the shelf.

Don’t use the word, “Man” so much and don’t bring your children to places that condone drug use. You’re a terrible parent.

Everyone loves music. You do, I do, your mom does, even your gramma whom you’ve never heard even put on one of those 78’s the she has a box of underneath a record player you’ve never seen used does. This is the first fact of this little complaint.

On the flipside, we have all gone to concerts with bands that we weren’t that fond of. We might even go as far as saying that they suck. I know that I have…a lot. When we see these bands that we don’t like, we leave for a bit, maybe get some pizza or taco if you are lucky enough to be at a venue that is by a taco joint. We go outside and hang out with friends who hold similar taste, or lack thereof, for the current band playing. It’s not disrespectful because it could be much worse. Those who are eating a burrito or those who have decided to leave for a little bit to hit on that girl with the sweet extra large Slayer hoodie and skinny jeans which is completely contradictory and you look rediculous which is a side note that we can address later if you’d like, are considerate as to not disturb the band. Which leads me to the associated image. Take a good look. I will be referencing it shortly.

As you can see, this scene takes place in a small club. There is a female singer and male guitar player. It’s an acoustic act and the PA is small and it’s a very close, intimate, show. Now pull your eyes to the right. See that gentleman on what looks like an arcade game? It’s not. It’s a jukebox. He actually went up to the jukebox while the band was playing and began to shuffle through the available selection, probably looking for Sublime and that Steve Miller song that refers to the “Midnight Toker” if I had to put money on it.

I don’t know what else to say aside from, don’t do this. Any while you’re at it, don’t listen to Sublime or The Steve Miller Band.

Television has gone downhill. One thing I have noticed is the lack of smart kids on television. I was happy. Smart kids were on the fall and my prayers have finally been answered.

“What is your problem with smart kids, Mike?” you ask? Who likes smart kids? TV doesn’t portray them as kids that are smart, because that would be too easy to watch apparently. These kids are smart ass kids who know too much and makes you wonder, what the hell is up with this kid. It’s not that they are nerds, which they typically are, but they are just loudmouthed punk kids that should keep their mouths shut.

Commercials do it, too. My inspiration for this was that commercial where the little girls wastes like forty gallons of grape juice on keeping monsters out of her room because “...the antioxidants will save me.” What are you doing knowing about antioxidants and that monster should eat you since you don’t even know the correct definition of the word.

Idiot kids. I could beat that seven year old up.

Remember when you were in sixth grade and you had that one friend who’s mom let them drink coffee and you were jealous because of it only to realize then in seven years you realize that they weren’t that cool and that coffee isn’t that great in the long run? These people still drink coffee and you know what, good because these people are fine with me. Young kids drinking coffee, that’s no good. Give that kid some juice and tell him coffee is for adults and pretentious pricks that think that they still get “wired” from drinking that same gross cup of espresso that they have built up an immunity to.

So let’s take a trip, shall we? Let me take you to your local coffee shop. Starbucks is not your local coffee shop. Sorry, but it’s not and I am not even that sorry to be quite honest. Let’s go and get some tea and a sandwich because I love sandwiches. Wow, it sure is packed in here, I hope we get a spot. Watch that guy who looks like he’s done eating so that we can take his spot. Or that kid over there who is also just sitting there with an empty cup. Oh oh oh, that woman over there just put down her news paper, watch her! Wait a minute, no one here is actually doing anything! That kid is on the computer with no coffee or food. Those jerks are taking up a big table to study and not patron the shop. These two old birds are talking over a closed box of cupcakes for over a half an hour.

No one has the courtesy to say, “Oh, hey…you know what? There are people standing up and trying to find a spot. Maybe I’ve been here long enough reading this book and not buying a single thing. I’ll get up and leave and let these people sit down.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. If you owned a shop and people came in to read the paper and check email and study and not buy anything, you would be pissed. So stop being a dick and buy something or leave. Jesus, even homeless people know to stay outside when they don’t have any money. That’s right, you are worse to society than a homeless person. I hope that burns more than when you told your dad you were going to school for theater or dance.