7 posts tagged “argh”

1.) Where is my Richard Ashcroft CD? 

2.) Who in the hell gave my name to the March of Dimes?  I mean, it's all fine and good, I donate every year (they shouldn't have my home number, though), but these buggers are persistent.  Apparently, I was signed up for some "Lock Me in Jail Until I Raise a Bunch of Money" things by a "girlfriend".  Seriously?  Something sounds a little fishy.  So, I told them that I would simply be making my standard donation this year, and yet, they keep calling.  Like ten times a day.  Driving me bonkers.  I don't want to have to get bitchy to a charity, but this is getting ridiculous.

Well, maybe that's an exaggeration.  But when you witness a coworker, a friend, get treated so badly that she starts to cry thanks to a random asshole customer, you start to realize that a large portion of this country is greedy, asinine, cruel, and basically NOT VERY NICE.

Don't think that just because we're twenty-somethings working in retail, you can walk all over us.  Hey, guess what?  We're working two jobs and putting ourselves through school and we deserve respect.  What the fuck have you done lately?  Yeah, we make shit for money, but we're just trying to get by with some dignity. 

Here's some advice to America's clueless consumers:  Get a fucking clue, get the cell phone away from your ear, put a smile on your fucking face, and fucking treat us like humans, not your personal servants.  Pick up after yourself.  Put things back where they belong.  When I greet you, fucking acknowledge me.  I do not answer to, "Hey!"  I have a bloody name.  Don't bitch about prices...there's not a fucking thing I can do about it.  Don't show up and expect to be able to browse when it's five minutes before we close.  We don't get paid overtime so that you can look around at your leisure and then not fucking buy anything.  Don't you have better things to do? 

Oh, and watch your idiotic offspring.  Put them on a leash, please.  My mother would have beaten me in the middle of the store if I'd acted the way your little sticky-fingered, whining monsters do.  No wonder this world is going to shit.   If these children are our future, I want nothing to do with it.

I'm moving to the middle of the fucking forest in Nova Scotia or something.  Fuck.

P.S.  I think we all should be required to work a retail job for two years, so that everyone can experience being treated like shit.  Maybe then, we'd realize how much it hurts.

I just read the question of the day, but I already had this entry in my head, and it goes against everything that today's QotD stands for.

I may have a bit of verbal road rage.

I keep it to myself, I don't roll down the windows, I rarely honk.  Everything I say stays within the confines of my dear little car.

For example, I was driving to Target today, singing along to The Hush Sound, happy as can be, when Country Bumpkin Jackass in front of me decides to suddenly brake for no apparent reason, and the light right in front of him is green.   Green means go.

"La-da-DOOOOO-la-da-YOU F*CKING ASSHOLE WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING?!?!  GO!!!!!  STUPID F*CKING JERK!!  AAAAAAAGH!!!"

He's at a full stop now, on the cell phone, looking up at the street signs.  There are horns going off everywhere, only fueling my anger and thirst for fresh blood.  Fresh Country Bumpkin blood.  Finally, FINALLY, he turns onto the road to our right.

Obviously, I am out of the running for the Purple Ribbon Project poster child.

I can't get stupid, depressing thoughts out of my head, therefore, I am feeling stupid and depressed.  It will pass, I know, but there are certain times when I just want to go back to being twelve years old and not having to think about stuff like this.

Add to that the fact that I am getting over being sick, my contacts are killing me, and the house is a mess because we have company, and you should be able to figure out why I'm ready to return to bed and not get up for a while.

I'm just going to sit here and stare at the wall...don't mind me. I'm just a lemming.

I'm about ready to pull my damn hair out.  Why do people say one thing and do another?!  Is anyone dependable anymore?  Or am I just getting ornery in my old age?  All I know is that right now, I feel like a damn lemming.

Ahem.  Anyway.

Taxes.  I hate them, and the feeling is mutual.  But it's done, and at least it's not something I have to worry about again until next year.  And now, I'll just sit and wait patiently for the lovely little extra check to come in the mail this summer.  That's going toward dental work and a trip to the beach if I have anything to do with it.  And a damn bikini.  I've lost so much weight that the girls have taken to calling me a "twig" or a "stick" or a "fucking skinny-ass bitch".  I could probably benefit from gaining about five pounds back. 

I have become obsessed with avocados lately.  My favorite snack right now?  A ripe avocado mashed up with a bit of salt and smeared into warm taco shells.  It's so tasty.  Whenever we order from El Lugar, I always add "extra-extra-extra" avocados on my quesadilla.  I wish I hadn't gone through the bag we bought earlier this week already...I'm craving it now like crazy.

I'm going to bed.  Hopefully, I'll be in a better mood tomorrow.  That way I won't end up attacking the poor air conditioner guy who's swinging by in the morning to fix the unit outside.  It's starting to sound like a cat in heat.

Welcome back to another thrilling installment of Aubrey's Lists, an ongoing series in which you learn things about Aubrey that you may or may not care to know. 

Today's list includes the top five things that really, truly piss me off.  There are many others, but I can deal with those in a much more sophisticated manner.

I'm going to get all fired up just thinking about it...

1.)  Ignorant Use of a Cellular Device.  You know it gets your goat, too.  I'm talking about those people who hold the line up while talking VERY LOUDLY to the co-conspirator/victim on the other end of the connection.  The ones who stick an index finger in the face of the poor clerk, a universal gesture that means "Hang on a sec...I'm too busy talking to let you do your job."  People who talk on their phone in the library are idiots, too.  I do not use my cell phone in public at all, if I can help it.  It's rude.  Nobody wants to hear your conversation, and it seems a bit odd that you don't mind talking about whatever floats your boat in front of strangers.  That being said, the obvious exceptions are, in no particular order: you're giving birth or talking someone through a birth, there is a serious emergency, you've lost your car keys, or perhaps you really can't remember what you were supposed to get at the store.  But please, PLEASE remove yourself (if possible) to an area where you're not going to tempt everyone around to kill you and feed your carcass to the pigeons roaming the parking lot.

Oh yeah, when you wear that BlueTooth thing or whatever, it makes you look like you're talking to yourself.  It's kinda sad.

2.)   Failure to Use One's Turn Signal.  Isn't this a standard traffic law?  Here in Florida, the Land of Horribly Bad Drivers and Snowbirds, no one seems to do this with any regularity.  In addition to preventing car accidents, taking one millisecond to flip that little switch is just decent behavior.  "Hi, I'm about to turn, so if you don't get off my ass, you're probably going to rear-end me, and then we'll have to call the insurance companies and it will just be a big mess."  The worst one?  Say you're waiting to turn left out onto a very busy street.  There aren't many breaks in the traffic, but it looks like there might be a spot right after this Hummer.  "Here it comes...wait, the Hummer's slowing down...is there an ambulance?  Oh dear, the cars behind him are catching up, and I just know this light is going to turn yellow before I can get out.  What's this?  NOOOO!!!  He's turning, but where's his turn signal?  If he had let me know, I might've been able to turn before him.  The light's yellow...now red.  RAT BASTARD!  I HATE YOU AND YOUR GAS GUZZLING PIECE OF OBVIOUS COMPENSATION!!"

Turn signal = love for your fellow human beings.  Let's share the love, people.

This brings me to:
3.)  Hummers. Or Pretty Much Any Oversized SUV.  I don't care how they look.  I don't care about the fact that it means you're probably rich and able to afford whatever the hell you want.  I have no interest in it.  To me, a car is to get me from Point A to Point B in relative comfort, which means that if there's no rain falling on my head and I can maybe listen to a CD, I'm good.  I see no point in shelling out tons of gas money for something that I'm rarely in.  Not to mention the environmental harm those horrible things are contributing to.  You can take that ugly, bulky thing and shove it up your ass.  Argh.

4.)  People Who Let Their Preteens Dress Like Britney Spears and Other Atrocious Things.   I believe that these are the same people who later wonder why their children have grown up so quickly, then place all the blame on the media.  No.  You are the parents.  You have the ability to control what they wear, what they watch, what they fill their free-time with.   I grew up in the kind of household that preaches, "MY HOUSE, MY RULES!"  Yeah, I hated my parents from the age of twelve to the age of nineteen, but you know what?  I am so grateful that they kept me on a tight leash.  I have not gone through half of the drama, heartbreak, and general delinquency that my friends, the ones with the "do whatever you want" parents, had to deal with.  Some might argue that life is full of heartache, and the sooner you have to face it, the better prepared you will be in the future.  I respectfully disagree.  Children should be encouraged to be children before the real world swoops in and takes it all away.

5.)  Idiot Parents Who Leave Their Young Children in Public Places for Hours.  No food, no contact numbers in case of an emergency, and many of these children are too young to even know how to flush a toilet, let alone wash their hands.  Some are sick, some are babies left in the care of only slightly older siblings or cousins.  Some have serious health issues, such as seizures.  Most can't remember their parents' names.  And yet it seems perfectly okay to many adults to drop off the kids and tell them you'll be back before closing. And really, there's not a damn thing that can be done about it.  This one just leaves me speechless.

Ahhhh, I feel much better now.  Next time, I'll make a happy list.

I'm not broke.  I have a small chunk of change in my bank account, but I'm trying REALLY hard not to touch it.  I get my last check on the 28th, and it will have all of my vacation hours (300+) on it.  That's what I'm moving home on.  I've got it all planned out: x amount for freighting furniture, x amount to cover gasoline and things for the ride home, x amount for living off of until I get another job, etc.

I went to the library, then to the gas station.  After leaving the gas station, I get in my car and THE ENGINE WON'T TURN THE FUCK OVER.  It refuses.  I freak out, and then realize I have a cell phone, so I'll just call somebody, right?  My initial thought is to call Jason, but (a) he's in Kissimmee, an hour away, (b) I have suddenly lost the ability to remember phone numbers that aren't already stored in the phone, and (c) he's my ex, why the fuck should I depend on him?

So I call my mom.  My dear, sweet mother who would do anything for me, except drive 1,200 miles in three minutes to pull the dead battery out with her teeth and put in another, all while giving me a hug and offering me a stick of gum.   Instead, she calmly asks me to stop trying to crank the engine, let it rest a while, and "For God's sake, don't put the phone down!"  I notice a man walking up to the window, and after telling my mom to hold on, I roll it down and the guy asks if I need a jump.  It's broad daylight, there are droves of people milling about, and I'm desperate.  I nod yes, tell my mother what's happening and pop the hood release.

At this point, my phone has ended up sliding down my head, yet I can still hear Mom screaming, "Aubrey!  Do you have PEPPER SPRAY?!?!?!"  I hope that the dude doesn't hear her pleas, and I watch as he gets the cables connected and revs his engine.  I say a prayer as I turn my key.  My little Kia roars to life.

I offer to pay him, but he refuses and says that he was glad he could help, especially since jumping cars is about the only thing he can do.  I thank him profusely and wish him a Merry Christmas.  I briefly let my mom know that I'm fine and then got the hell home, where I've been crying, hyperventilating, and pricing batteries.  Damnit...$80 for the cheaper ones.

It reminds me of that commercial where the couple notices that their car's warranty has expired and immediately, the rearview mirror falls off, leaving them both looking rather disturbed.

Guess that's what I'll spend tomorrow morning taking care of.  I suppose it would've happened sooner or later (better now than on the trip home, at midnight, somewhere on I-10 in Louisiana), but DAMN.

LOL...I need to start writing happy posts.  Rum makes me happy.  Maybe I'll go have some rum.