Saturday, July 31, 2010

Dear Deli Manager:

Honestly, what the fuck do you do?  I've been coming to get sandwiches (which are delicious) at your deli for a few years now, and I haven't seen you ever actually do anything.  You are always, without fail, standing in the same fucking spot over near the registers doing absolutely nothing.  Now, if you owned this establishment, I wouldn't care if you weren't doing shit, because in that situation you're entitled to not do shit.  But I'm fairly certain you're an employee and probably should do something now and again.  The reason you have wronged me today is because in addition to your general lack of work ethic, you were a complete fucking asshole to one of the cashiers.  The cashier was new.  She was a young girl and maybe had never worked a register before.  No big deal.  I gave her a $20 to pay for my lunch and she was making change.  Despite giving me the correct change, you decided that she counted the fucking money wrong and laid into her right in front of me.  Are you for real?  Who fucking cares how she counts the money provided she counts it correctly?  I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  I haven't seen you lift a fucking finger in years and now my only recollection of you doing anything is yelling at some new employee for how she counted change?  Get a fucking life.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Dear Person Who Took His Shirt Off:

Look, I'm not offended that you weren't wearing a shirt.  I was more confused by why you weren't wearing your shirt.  Sure, it was hot as balls today and everyone was sweating their ass off.  But, most people can handle keeping their shirts on in public.  And its not like you were in a non-busy area of the city.  You were in the middle of a busy intersection on a college campus.  Whatever.  Like I said, I don't really care that you weren't wearing your shirt.  That odd part was that you  were draping your shirt over your girlfriend's shoulders.  Now if you replace the 95 degree weather with 40 degree weather, and you replace your shirt with a jacket, your actions could be considered chivalrous and all that bullshit.  But... covering your girlfriend's shoulders with your fucking t-shirt in the middle of the summer is just plain weird.  Not to mention you seemed to be shielding her in some fashion with your body.  I'm not entirely sure from what.  Now, somewhere in this whole odd situation there may be a legit explanation.  Maybe your girlfriend is allergic to the sun or something fucked up like that.  But if that were the case, maybe she shouldn't be wandering around in the middle of the day in a fucking tank top.  You walked more or less next to me for a while and you were having a perfectly normal conversation, so whatever the true reason for this bizarre behavior was, it was lost on me.  I'd say you should keep your fucking shirt on generally, buddy.  Your girlfriend can probably handle a little sunlight on her shoulders.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Dear People Singing on Bus:

This experience was more awkward than anything else.  At first I thought you two were on some sort of first date.  First dates are always really awkward to witness.  You didn't seem to know too much about each other and kept talking about your various classes you were taking and hobbies and whatnot.  Plus, the nervous laughter that followed everything you said to each other also kind of seemed like first date material.  On the other hand, I think the guy side of your dynamic duo was gay, so maybe it wasn't a first date.  I'm basing this solely on his affect and the fact that he spoke at length about how fun and exciting it was to sing "Panic at the Disco."  But that's neither here nor there.  You were both music people evidently and talked a lot about stuff I don't know anything about.  I heard a lot of talk about "harmonizing" and "creating tensions" and "riffing."  After a long bus ride filled with uncomfortable laughter and music talk, the singing started.  First, the guy started singing what I believe he said was an original piece.  And when I say he started singing, I don't mean like.. quietly to his new friend.  I mean like loudly so the whole bus could hear.  I found this really uncomfortable and embarrassing.  I just wanted it to end.  Not to be out done, the female chipped in with her own rendition of something.  Then he went.  Then she went.  It was fucking ridiculous.  Thank god you didn't start singing the same song in unison.  Eventually you went back to talking about "riffing" and then decide to have a little "riff-off."  I'm kind of unclear what "riffing" actually is, but whatever you two were doing, it was even more fucking uncomfortable than the original singing.  This continued until I got off the bus.  I'm glad you two are comfortable singing in public, but I can't actually condone that behavior.  At least I got a blog post out of this shit.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Dear Person Who Called My Office Part II:

You called my office this early this morning.  Before 9am, in fact.  You didn't actually want to speak to me or anyone else in my office.  Instead, you needed a completely different office. You knew this before you called because the first words out of your mouth were, "I'm looking for another office."  Now, in this day and age I kind of expect people to be able to find out certain information for themselves.  Stuff like phone numbers are readily available on the internet.  A quick 30 second search online would have yielded you the correct phone number.  Instead, you decided to arbitrarily call my office and expect me to look up the number for you.  I reluctantly find the number and connect you to the appropriate office.  Less than a minute later, you called me back.  You say, "No one picked up."  Seriously?  How the fuck is this my problem?  I asked if you left a message.  You say that you didn't.  I am flabbergasted.  Honestly, what the fuck do you want me to do  about this?  Do you not grasp that I don't work in that office?  Do you not understand that the office I work in and the office you want to speak to are entirely unrelated?  I try really hard to understand why people do what they do, but I cannot fathom why you would call me back and not leave a message with the office you wanted to reach.  After foolish asking why no one picked up and what you should do, I explained that its early in the morning and its entirely possible that no one's actually at work yet.  You seem unsatisfied with this answer.  I give you the phone number and tell you to try back later or maybe try leaving a message like a normal human being.  Again, you're not pleased with this answer, but at this point, I don't really give a shit.  Thankfully, for the both of us, you did not call me again.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Dear Person Who Sat Way Too Close To Me:

Picking a seat on the subway is a lot like picking a urinal.  There are unspoken rules in place, and its really fucking weird when someone breaks them.  Rule number one is always leave a buffer.  I mean, how fucking sketchy is it when you're in the bathroom with plenty of empty urinals and some fucking guy chooses the one right next to you?  Its much less creepy on the subway, but I still feel like the buffer rule applies.  In this case, the train was fairly empty.  Not super busy and plenty of empty seats.  Much to my chagrin, you decide to sit your ass down directly next to me.  Whatever.  Its kind of weird, but in and of itself its not terrible.  What really wronged me today was how much room you decided you needed.  Which is interesting, because if you really needed to stretch out and invade my fucking personal space, you maybe should have thought about not sitting right fucking next to me. In any event, you decide to really get comfortable and spread your legs out pretty wide.  You have what former Senator Larry Craig might call a "wide stance."  So I'm stuck sitting next to you while your fucking leg is now physically touching my leg.  This happens on busy subway cars, but it shouldn't happen in this mostly empty train.  It also wouldn't be happening if you had some concept of personal boundaries.  At least you didn't smell or were blasting music or something.  That would have really put me over the edge.  Anyways, learn some fucking subway etiquette. And I really hope you don't pull this shit in public bathrooms too.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Dear Person Who Kept Ignoring Their Daughter:

I don't have kids, so I probably shouldn't be complaining about how other people deal with their children.  However, your decision to ignore your annoying fucking daughter has wronged me today.  Kids ask a lot of questions.  Sometimes they don't shut-up.  It's annoying for everyone.  You're probably stressed out and overtired and have learned to just completely zone out your children when they're being completely annoying.  Which is great for you, but not so hot for me.  As the bus approached a particular stop today, your daughter asked approximately -- I don't know -- seventy-two times if this was the right stop.  Over and over and over.  "Is this the stop?  Is this the stop?  Is this the stop?"  You didn't even flinch.  Didn't even look at her.  Just kept on looking ahead.  Your daughter was little and so I don't fault her for continuing to ask if it was the right stop even after the bus started pulling away.  But I do fault you for not saying anything.  Sure, saying "No." probably would not have stopped her from continuing to ask questions.  But at least they would have been different questions.  And if I have to sit and listen to some precocious 4 year-old talk incessantly, I would much prefer to hear some variety and not the same question over and over.  So, do us all a favor and just answer your kid's stupid fucking questions.