Monday, August 30, 2010

Dear Person Talking to His Friend:

Its always nice when you see someone you know on the bus or train unexpectedly.  Maybe you haven't seen them in a while and you're excited to catch up a little bit before your stop comes.  However, its really fucking annoying for the rest of us if you're standing nowhere near each other and inexplicably decide to carry on a lengthy conversation.  A few other people and I were between you and your friend.  Rather than try and move closer to your friend (which still would have been annoying on a crowded bus), or maybe just wave hello and agree to give each other a call later, you decide to carry on an extensive conversation by yelling over all of us.  I was lucky enough to be closest to you so that I had to stand there with your shoulder pressed up against mine and the side of your head about 4 inches from my face.  Very thoughtful of you.  In addition to you physically invading my personal space, you had a briefcase. One of those old school hard ones.  Because you were so fucking close to me, your briefcase kept slamming into my knee periodically every time the bus slowed down.  And since its a fucking bus, that happened a lot.  Although you didn't apologize, or even acknowledge it for that matter, I can assure you it was unpleasant.  I'm unsure why people like you think this is perfectly acceptable behavior in public, but it's not.  Trust me.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Dear People Celebrating a Birthday:

You folks need to lighten the fuck up.  I was at a bar with some friends and you were all seated next to us.  There was a lot of you.  Maybe a dozen or more people.  At some point you all ordered shots and clinked glasses and did the normal "Happy Birthday" cheers thing.  As you were all whooping it up and having a good time cheers-ing your friend, our table joined in with the cheers.  Seemed like a perfectly normal, if not nice, thing to do.  Who wouldn't want some extra birthday love?  Instead of rolling with it and having a good time, you all stopped and fucking glared at us.  Really?  Did we intrude on your private party in the middle of the fucking bar?    I can't fathom how this could be bothersome as to warrant a dirty look from more than one member of your party.  I don't even know how you heard us.  It was fucking loud in there and there was like 14 of you and 5 of us.  You should all be a little more appreciative of our joint-birthday-well-wishing and not act like socially inept assholes.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Dear Person Standing in Line at Lunch:

I think you were French.  This is because is you were European and a giant asshole, and if you're European and a giant asshole, I assume you're French.  This might be entirely unfair, but I'm sticking with it.  In any event, what the fuck is your problem?  Instead of paying attention to the line and ordering when it was your turn, you decide to stare off into the distance with your friend and talk amongst yourselves with your back to the counter.  When it was your turn, the guy behind the counter called for you four or five times to no avail.  I also said excuse me and asked if you were in line a couple of times, but you just fucking ignored me.  So after a while, the guy behind the counter started to take my order, and I walked in front of you in line.  At this point, you got pissed and shoved past me while declaring that you were in line.  I initially tried to be nice and said, "I asked you a couple times if you were in line and you didn't answer me."  In the most condescending tone you could possibly muster, you said, "I was busy talking to someone."  Uh, who the fuck cares?  You order when it's your turn.  You're not entitled to hold up the line because you were "busy talking." "Maybe you should pay more attention then and order when its your turn," I snapped back.  At this point, your female friend gave me the dirtiest look I've received in a long, long time.  It was pretty amazing.  I've been told I have a pretty good glare, but this one was on point.  I laughed to myself while staring back at the woman with feigned disgust.  Well played possibly-French lady.  Well played, indeed.  Oh, and folks, don't be giant fucking tools in line.  Everyone's hungry and short on time.  Just order your fucking food and move on.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Dear Person With Headphones:

Normally when I hear people blasting music from their iPod, its some young guy.  He's usually listening to hard rock or hip-hop of some sort.  Not today.  Instead, there was you.  You were a woman, probably in your late-30s.  What were you rocking out to on your headphones?  I'm not entirely sure, but it sounded like it could have been the compilation CD, "Lilith Fair '99."  I mean, you were blasting what could only have been some terrible combination of Melissa Ethridge, Sarah McLachlan, and Natalie fucking Imbruglia.  And I mean blasting.  Sometimes I feel like maybe people aren't really as annoying as I think they are, and I'm just an easily annoyed asshole (all true probably), but in this case, other people were giving you the death stare as well.  There's nothing I love more than when other people get as visibly as annoyed as I feel.  People blasting music on my morning commute is always fucking terrible, and theoretically soft-chick-alt-folk-rock or whatever the fuck you were listening to, should be less offensive than metal.  But, somehow I feel more wronged today simply because of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.  I guess I expect more from a nearly middle-aged woman than I do some 18-year old kid.  Anyways, turn your fucking iPod down.  Please.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Dear Person Carrying Babies:

Holy shit.  I have no idea if you're the parent of those children, or a caregiver, or if you just fucking stole those kids, but I'm fairly certain that is not how you should be carrying those babies.  As you wandered down the street haphazardly, you were carry a bucket car seat in each hand.  (At least I think that's what they're called.  I don't have kids and generally avoid conversations about babies.)  You looked like you were struggling pretty bad.  It was super hot and you looked tired and kept taking breaks every once in a while.  In any event, every step you took, your knees would hit the side of those car seat things.  And since you were walking at a pretty good clip, this sent the car seats twisting in every which direction pretty quickly.  The babies were passed out, and I have no idea how they stayed asleep, but I'm pretty sure there's a rule against rapidly shaking babies.  I mean, isn't Shaken Baby Syndrome like the worst thing ever?  Again, I don't have kids, but I would highly recommend slowing it down some and not slamming the car seats into your leg every 4 seconds.  Seriously.  I was horrified.  I wouldn't even carry my fucking groceries home like that.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Dear Person in Shopping Cart:

You were sitting in a fucking shopping cart on the subway.  I really don't even need to write anything else.  This situation is already completely absurd.  You weren't just sitting there quietly either.  You were grabbing onto the poles and pulling yourself around the train and being really unnecessarily loud.  Clearly you crave the attention you never got as a child, because that's the only reason I can think of why you were behaving like a fucking child.  Every time the train hit the brakes, your cart would go careening towards one end of the train much to your delight.  I'm shocked you didn't run your cart into anyone to be honest.  That would have been even more terrible and ridiculous.  You weren't alone either.  Your flunkie friend was with you.  He didn't too much beyond collecting your shopping cart when it rolled too far away.  At one point you wanted your friend to push you down the aisle real fast.  Thankfully he respectfully declined.  You didn't like this though and complained about it.  Loudly.  As per usual.  When it was time to get off the train, you remained in the cart while your flunkie friend pushed you through the station.  Way to keep it classy, guys.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Dear People Who Ignored Me:

Today the two of you were having a good time on the subway.  You were trying to take a picture of yourselves, but were have some difficulty doing so.  Perhaps this was half the fun.  Despite my curmudgeonly musings and the fact that I generally complain about everything, I am occasionally a pleasant person. Because of this, I decided to ask if you wanted me to take your picture for you.  How did you respond to my perfectly normal and kind offer?  By staring at me like I just asked if you wanted to have a threesome later.  After a few seconds of awkward eye contact, you went back to fucking around with your camera and ignoring me  What the fuck?  That's a perfectly normal question to ask.  If you didn't want me to take your picture, just fucking say no.  Don't stare at me like I somehow wronged you by asking something bizarre and inappropriate.  The other scenario is that you just didn't hear what I said.  You clearly noticed I asked you something since you both stopped what you were doing and looked at me.  But if that's the case, maybe you could have asked me what I said instead of being all weird and rude about it?  Sure, I don't really want to talk to strangers on the subway either, but I was trying to be nice and help you out.  I hope your pictures come out looking shit.  Assholes.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Dear Person With Giant Backpack:

My blog should really be called, "How to Act Like a Normal Fucking Human Being on the Bus."  One rule that I feel should be in place is if you have a giant fucking backpack, don't wear it.  Take it off and put it by your feet.  That will prevent assholes like you from careening wildly into people who generally don't want to have a bag shoved into the small of their back for 25 minutes.  I don't expect not to have my personal space invaded now and again on the bus.  That's just unreasonable.  It's packed and you're gonna rub up against some strangers now and again.  Your fucking backpack, however, is a preventable offense.  I spent the entire ride with you directly behind me.  Now, there's ample room for two people to stand in the aisle of a busy bus without even touching each other.  However, when your bag -- by itself -- takes up more room than a normal person, and you have it inexplicably strapped to your back, it makes it difficult to stand comfortably.  Do you not notice that you're pressing directly into someone?  How do you not feel that?  I kept passive aggressively leaning back further and further into your bag in hope that you would feel it and maybe pay a little more attention to where your bag was going.  To make matters worse, you kept turning around randomly to look at random shit like you've never driven over a fucking bridge before.  Do you know what happens when you turn around abruptly with a giant backpack on your back?  You hit people.  You annoy them.  You generally look like an asshole.  Don't do that.  Just take your fucking bag off and put it on the floor.  Sure, the floor's probably covered in grime and possibly urine, but at least you won't be "that guy" anymore.