There are two things going on with me tonight: 1.) I'm in a shitty mood, and 2.) I don't feel like typing. I fully admit that I'm taking the easy way out by copying and pasting something I wrote a long time ago, but it's still relevant because I still feel the same way about the subjects discussed below.
As most of you who read my work probably know, I tend to have a good bit of anger at all times. Most of my anger is inspired by the sheer stupidity of the American public, but sometimes my anger is directed towards a select group of people (and in some cases, a single person).
This blog post is inspired by a comedy act that I heard a few years ago by the late George Carlin, who was famous for his anger-inspired comedy. He did a piece that he called Free Floating Hostility, and I am going to do a little of that on my own with this post. I am going to examine four things that piss me off, and if this is popular enough I may decide to do this on a more frequent basis … depending on how angry I get in the future.
Drive-Thru workers who mumble your order back to you.
Okay, I know that there are some kids who are working in a drive-thru to save enough money to go to college or get through college and don’t fit in this category. I get that. I also understand that some drive-thru workers don’t have the skills do do anything else and don’t exactly have a grasp of the English Language.
What I don’t understand is how can it not be a prerequisite for the job of providing food and/or beverages to the public that one KNOWS HOW TO FUCKING ENUNCIATE THE CUSTOMER’S ORDER back to them? Would it be so hard to figure this out in the interview?
If you are a manager at a fast-food place and you have a person applying for a job that can’t speak properly, why would you hire the person? Is it just to screw with everyone in some sick and twisted game? If that is the case, why don’t you put them on the register for the people who come inside instead of messing with the family who is in a hurry and took the drive-thru?
Example: I go to Wendy’s a few weeks ago to get food for the family. I pull up to the window, order my wife’s food first and the response that I get from the little black talking box is something like this…
dsjadqrhlk jashlas aytlkasdhb alkglktgoiuw gtr lkadgo ugliua gdlkj
Not understanding a word that just came from the speakers, I say “yes” assuming that it was some foreign code repeating my previous order and asking if that was what I said. (Not that they give a shit that they get my food right, but a man can dream can’t he?)
After I say yes, I get another encrypted response…
ghalkghpiuth glkhptiuh gkhalghaiui khgitihkj hxrdkjh
And then I hear the “click” — you know which one I mean — the click that signals me to drive around. WHAT?!? I haven’t even finished my order!!! I try to communicate with the foreign talking box — nothing. So, I do what everyone else would do and drive around. I get to the window and the girl says the amount and gives me my bag.
I politely say “you didn’t finish my order”.
She says “you said that was all you wanted”.
Okay, now you speak clearly.
So, I inquire as to how they will correct the situation that they have screwed up.
She says “you can go back around or come inside”.
I go inside and finish the order and speak to someone who actually knows how to talk without sounding like she has a baked potato (or God knows what else) in her mouth and ask the manager if the drive-thru speaker is damaged.
“No sir, why do you ask?”
“No reason, I was just wondering if it were the speaker, that I went deaf while placing the order, or if your cashier speaks Klingon — I have my answer, thank you.”
The entire situation could have been avoided if the stupid cashier knew how to speak English into a microphone. If the fast-food business isn’t the right career choice, she could always get a job working in the technical department for a cable company — they’re always looking for people who can’t communicate on the phone.
People who sell doughnuts for charity in front of Wal-Mart.
Okay, before you begin typing your comment calling me a worthless bastard for not wanting to donate to charity, let me explain.
I have a rule when it comes to personal space. That rule is — don’t get in my personal space unless one of three things apply.
Basically — this rule means that if you are selling doughnuts (or candy, or magazines) in front of Wal-Mart (or Target, or the mall) and you see me purposely walk as far away from you as humanly possible — I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING DOUGHNUTS.
Do not come up to my face and ask me to buy them — I don’t want them. If I wanted to buy them I would say “Hey, I’ll have a box of those doughnuts, what are the proceeds going to?” — if I don’t approach you with five dollars in my hand and say something resembling that — then that pretty much means I am avoiding you because I don’t want to buy your doughnuts, so leave me the hell alone and go pester somebody else.
People who talk on their cell phone while waiting in line.
It makes absolutely no difference where you are; whether it’s the bank, the post office, or the grocery store — wherever you are is irrelevant. There is always, ALWAYS some numb-skull who just has to talk on his/her cell phone while behind you in line.
And have you ever noticed that they always talk about stupid shit?
I mean seriously — dude, I don’t care what you did this weekend with Mary Jane Rotten-Crotch (a Full Metal Jacket reference for the movie buffs) and neither does anyone else in line. GET OFF THE PHONE AND SAVE IT FOR THE RIDE HOME — we don’t care, we will never care, and you aren’t any cooler because you have a fancy little iPhone with bluetooth.
To be honest you look like a moron because nobody can tell you’re on the phone since it’s in your pocket, so just save us all the bail money we would incur from beating your ass with our shoes and get off the phone.
People who pull out in front of you in traffic, and turn down the next street.
This is probably the biggest cause of my road rage. If you are waiting to pull out into traffic, and you see a car coming — and you know that you only need to go about 15 feet before you turn, then WAIT ON THE CARS TO CLEAR BEFORE YOU COME OUT. It is not necessary for you to pull out in front of someone and almost cause an accident just so you can get to McDonalds before they stop serving breakfast.
A better strategy would be to do like I did and leave your house earlier. Every time someone does that to me I want to follow the idiot and when he/she stops, I want to get out of my car and just punch him/her in the throat as hard as I can, get back in my car, and drive away. No words. Just give them one quick jab to the windpipe, get in my car, and leave.
You may be asking yourself what the moral of this story could possibly be. Well, if I had a moral to this story it would be to always go inside to place a fast food order, avoid the kids selling doughnuts at Wal-Mart at all costs, don’t talk on your cell phone while waiting in line, and don’t pull out in front of me in traffic. If everyone would just follow these simple rules the world would be a much better place.
That's it for this week kids. I'll be back in full swing next week, but until then if you have anything you'd like to say, feel free to add it in the comments.
Until next Monday...