Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Dear Person Who Didn't Hold The Door:

This shit happens all the time, but today was especially annoying.  As you may have noticed, it has not stopped fucking raining for more than 12 hours in weeks.  (Is this what people in Seattle or London feel like?  God it's depressing.)  I had gone outside to pick up some lunch for myself and some co-workers.  I was walking back to my office building with my umbrella in one hand and big bag of food in the other.  You were ahead of me in a group of six or seven or so people.  Not far ahead of me.  Perhaps, a couple of feet at most.  Everyone was entering the building slowly but surely, holding the door for one another as respectful and civilized people are wont to do.  However, as you entered the building, you didn't see fit to the hold the door for anyone behind.  Namely me.  Given that my hands were quite full, I had no opportunity to grab the door myself.  Fortunately, I was able to sneak a foot in between the door and the frame and swing the door open myself.  I then proceeded to stare at you.  Your friend seemed to notice me giving you the death stare and gave me a weird look.  Ordinarily I would have said something sarcastic like, "Gee, thanks for the holding the door for me, buddy," but alas, I was already filled with rage and couldn't coherently be snarky.  Like I said, this shit happens all the time, but when its a monsoon outside and you can't be fucked to hold the door for someone, that's not cool and now I feel wronged. 

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Dear Crazy Bus Driver:

Holy shit.  This was the first bus ride I've been on that I legitimately thought I would have to fill out an MBTA accident report at some point.  Not once, not twice, but three times you violently slammed on the brakes and swerved.  Its entirely possible that these three events were not your fault.  However, it seems more likely that you are just a crazy/horrendous driver and not just the victim of other people's poor driving.  The third time was by far the worst.  It prompted several people who were standing to stumble a few feet into other people and nearly fall.  It prompted me to almost fall out of my seat.  And it prompted the entire bus to swear in unison.  It was special.  I don't know how fast you were going, but I bet it was faster than a big bus should be going.  I was sort of napping, but still kind of awake and I thought I saw Keanu Reeves and had flashbacks to that terrible Speed movie.  Anyways, somehow you didn't notice the line of traffic up ahead that was stopped at a red light.  Instead of paying attention and slowing down appropriately, you waited and waited and waited and then decided to brake hard and veer into the left lane.  Seriously?  What the fuck, dude?  Were you on your fucking cell phone or something?  I've been on lots of shitty bus rides before, but normally its annoying passengers that make it shitty.  Not almost careening into stopped traffic several times.  I really hope you're not my new evening commute bus driver.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Dear Person With Umbrella:

It was pouring today.  Everyone was walking around with an umbrella outside.  Surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly), many people don't quite grasp how to use an umbrella appropriately in public.  You are chief among them.  For starters, your umbrella is way too fucking big.  It looked like it belonged to your patio furniture set.  There is definitely no need to have an umbrella with a diameter bigger than say... 3 feet?  So not only do you look like a douchebag with a giant umbrella, but its also really annoying to walk anywhere near you.  You seemed to think the sidewalk was made solely for your benefit.  You made no attempt to move you or your giant umbrella out of the way of anyone or anything, resulting in several umbrella-clashes.  I thought the 2 inch metal prongs coming out edges of your umbrella were either going to rip someone else's umbrella or possibly take an eye out.  Nothing sucks more than getting jabbed with those metals bits by some asshole who doesn't watch where he's going with his umbrella.  To top things off, you stopped abruptly, turned around wildly looking for something, and then continued on your way, causing a small group of people to take evasive maneuvers for fear of being impaled.  Get a smaller more manageable umbrella, buddy, and watch where the fuck you're going.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Dear Republican National Committee:

Although I could rant and rave at length about your obstructionist, fear-mongering, hateful policies, this isn't about politics.  It's about the fact that you keep e-mailing me.  I try to avoid giving my e-mail out so I don't get nonsense junk mail and spam, and I've had pretty good success with that so far.  And I definitely have never signed up for an RNC mailing list.  I have no idea where or how you got my e-mail address, but I don't like it.  I have unsubscribed.  I have reported you as spam.  I have tried lots of things.  And yet, I still keep getting e-mail from you.  Please stop.  I don't like you Michael Steele.  Despite feeling consistently wronged everytime I see an e-mail from you, I must say I did actually laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of your greeting:  "Dear Fellow Patriot:"   Are you fucking kidding me?  I know I said this wasn't about politics, but it kind of is, and I cannot stand how you've co-opted words like "Patriot" and "Freedom" and "Liberty" and throw them around with such reckless abandon that they lose all meaning after a while.  You also congratulated me for "prevent[ing] the passage of one of the worst pieces of legislation in American history."  Really?  The worst?  I don't even have the energy to respond to this. I just can't believe you actually send this shit out to people.  Anyways, the point is -- stop fucking sending me e-mails.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Dear Drunk Guy Handing Out High-Fives:

It's St. Patrick's Day.  You're in college.  It's 5pm.  That means you're shit-faced and likely have been for some time.  There's nothing college kids love more than an excuse to drink before noon.  Don't get me wrong, I've been there before.  I definitively had my fair share of drunken shenanigan-filled St. Paddy's Days while I was in school.  So although your general debauchery may be obnoxious to some, this is not why I feel wronged by you today.  I'm honestly offended that you did not give me a high-five.  As I approached you, you were standing in line waiting to get into a bar and were high-fiving people as they walked past you, provided they were wearing green.  Those not wearing green were met with halfhearted insults.  Since I am ostensibly an adult and have a job, I could not go out drinking today and thus my only celebration thus far has been wearing green.  As a result, I fully expected a drunken high-five from you.  Did I get a high-five?  No.  Instead I got insulted on the shade of my green sweater.  Come on, it's not like I was wearing a fucking Seafoam Green sweater.  It may not be Kelly Green, but it is certainly a socially acceptable shade of green to wear on St. Patrick's Day.  Anyways, fuck you drunk college guy.  Enjoy vomiting up all that Guinness later tonight.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Dear Leaky Bus:

You have somehow managed to combine two of the worst things in my life right now:  public transit and this never-ending fucking rainstorm we've had the past few days.  Look, I don't expect a lot from you.  You've disappointed me so many times, my expectations are remarkably low.  I've accepted the fact that your fares will continue to rise.  I understand your "schedules" are largely for show.  I have no real hope that you will pick me when you say you will or drop me off anywhere near on time.  However, the one thing I do expect is that you will provide me some semblance of shelter from the elements.  You're a big fucking bus.  Not a convertible.  Not a motorcycle.  Not a jeep.  A giant bus.  Why am I getting just as wet on the bus, as I was off the bus?  I'm not talking a little drip here and there.  I felt like some asshole just kept pouring a cup of water on me every time you took a turn.   That's how much water there was.  I have no idea where its coming from either.  The windows appeared to be closed.  The ridiculous emergency-exit-submarine-hatch-looking-thing appeared to be closed.  And yet, there was copious amounts of rainwater pouring directly onto my pants.  It honestly looked like I pissed myself by the time I got off the bus.  Possibly one of the worst bus rides ever.  And that's saying something.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Dear Person Handing Out Free Samples:

You are either a complete moron or you have recited the same sound byte so many times you've turned into a mindless robot with no ability to think for yourself. You were standing behind a table that had many small clear sample cups of some new energy drink or something.  On the left was a purple drink.  On the right was an orange drink.  You explained to me that the the purple drink allegedly helped boost your metabolism or some such nonsense, and that the orange drink helped your respiratory system and helped clear your sinuses.  Neither of which I believe, but whatever.  I picked up one of the cups containing the orange drink.  You then immediately asked me with such extreme enthusiasm, "Oohhh, which one did you pick?"  I just picked up a cup right in front of you while you were watching me.  Not to mention, the cup is clear.  You might be colorblind, but even so, I feel like you should know which one I picked up given you were looking right at me.  After staring blankly at you for a minute, I told you I took one of the orange ones.  Without missing a beat, you jumped right into the same exact spiel you gave me 12 seconds earlier.  When I say exact same, I mean verbatim.  I didn't know what to say so I just stared at you blankly again before murmuring a "Thank you" and walking away.  I hate to say it, but your company would probably have better luck selling its product if you didn't work for them.  But hey, at least you're good at memorizing stupid shit.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Dear Person in Supermarket:

That was the one of the oddest conversations I think I've ever had the displeasure of hearing in public.  The conversation seemed pretty personal and not something I would discuss in public at all, let alone the checkout line at the grocery store.  Your conversation lasted the entire time you were in line and you were still on the phone when you gathered your bags and left.  You didn't even stop when it was your turn to pay.  Not even a brief smile or hello to the cashier ringing you up.  Now, from what I gathered from your phone call, it seems most members of your family have some sort of mental illness.  This is not funny.  I'm truly sorry if your family has a long line of health problems, and I don't mean to make light of it.  I do find it extremely bizarre, however, that you would just share all of this information with complete strangers.  You made it abundantly clear that your uncle so-and-so was bipolar and provided ample details on his treatment.  You mentioned it approximately 17 times during the course of your phone call, and that's only the portion of your phone call I witnessed.  Who knows how long you were actually on the phone for.  After you left, the cashier even commented to me on how weird and awkward that was to witness.  I mean, I'm assuming the cashier is a normal human being and not some irrationally angry person like me.  So if the cashier thought it was weird, it must have been pretty fucking weird. 

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Dear People Making Out:

What the fuck is wrong you two?  I know it was gorgeous weather out this weekend and everyone was happy to enjoy some sunshine outside for a change, but guess what?  No one wants to see that shit.  I take issue with PDA as a general rule, but this went far beyond that.  I'm unclear on how either of you were able to breathe or not choke given how far your tongues appeared to be down each others' throat.  Not to mention, there was some serious groping going on.  There were children around for Christ's sake.  I don't think most parents envisioned exposing their children to their first softcore porn when they took them to the park today.  And its not even like you were even trying to be inconspicuous.  You were standing directly in front of subway entrance.  Not under the shade of the tree.  Not off the beaten path.  Not, you know, in your apartment.  But rather right smack dab in front of everyone entering and exiting the subway.  I'm sure you two really want the world to know how much you care about each other, and really, there's no better way to show everyone that than some heavy foreplay in the park, but next time, let's try thinking a little more before deciding to play some fucking tonsil hockey in public.  It's gross. 

Friday, March 5, 2010

Dear Man Eating Soup Part II:

You were on my bus again today.  You were, however, perfectly normal.  I see you took my advice and ditched the bomber jacket and decided not to awkwardly hit on young women.  Although this is wonderful news for me and everyone else on the bus, it does make for a rather boring blog post.

Surely someone wronged me today...

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Dear Man Eating Soup:

You were really, really weird.  And apparently French, but that's neither here nor there.  Although you didn't actually do anything to me directly, you were so strange and borderline creepy, you made me uncomfortable and thus I feel wronged.  I don't know where to begin.  First of all, you were eating soup while we were all waiting for the bus.  No big deal there.  You did spill it everywhere though and I'm unsure how much soup actually made it into your mouth.  As the bus arrived, you decided to flag it down as if it were a giant taxi and it wouldn't stop at the bus stop full of people.  While doing so, you jabbed your spoon in the face of the woman who was walking in front of you.  That woman must have had absurd reflexes, because I have no idea how she dodged you and bobbed and weaved her way past you so seamlessly.  Naturally, you did not apologize for nearly blinding her.  Then, as the bus stopped you rushed in front of everyone.  Although it certainly appeared that you wanted to be the first person on the bus, you just stood there awkwardly while everyone else boarded.  Moments later after the bus had started moving, you apparently spilled your soup on the seat behind you.  I'm entirely unclear how you did this.  You were kind enough to clean it up though.  While cleaning it up, you decided to make small talk with the poor girl who was sitting in the seat next to your spill.  I'm half-convinced you spilled your soup on purpose so you could talk this girl.  The girl was cute and apparently in graduate school and did not appear to want to talk to you very much at all.  But you persisted.  And then this is where it got really awkward and uncomfortable...  there's nothing worse than watching some middle-aged man try and hit on some young female.  Perhaps you thought your French accent would woo her.  (It didn't.)  Maybe you thought your long salt and pepper hair was sexy (It's not.)  Or maybe you thought she would really be into your 80s era Top Gun-style leather jacket (She wasn't.)  My advice to you -- for my sake and young girls everywhere -- don't creep on girls half your age.