Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Seriously, what the hell? pt. 2

Maybe I should write about work more often. I like my job, but it gives me reason to vent more often than I would like.

I was at work a few days ago and this horrid woman and her voluminous daughter came up to look at the CDs and spoken word. (I was shelving CDs.) They proceeded to have a conversation along these lines... (keep in mind these people were 5 feet away from me and well within earshot. Not being deaf or blind I could see and hear them just fine. They apparently think the world works like a cartoon and no one but the person you're talking to will hear you.)

Gross Daughter: MooOOooom! Who's the man called Cash?

Gross Mother: Who?

GD: The man called Cash. Who is that?

GM: Johnny Cash.

GD just stares at her blankly.... kind of like a hippo in headlights.

(At this point I was ready to throw myself down the escalator.)

GD: (Standing directly across from me and looking at me) I can't find what I want! (I make a point of not looking up or responding because I have a policy about acknowledging people who don't address me civilly.)

GM: What do you want?

GD: Some Stephen King or something.

GM: (indicating me, by pointing) Maybe she knows something.

("I know you're a stupid manner-less bitch." I think to myself.)

GD: You want me to, like, go and ask her? (By the tone of her voice you'd think she was the queen of France making reference to some who cleans the shitter.)

Now I could have looked up from my work and asked them what they needed help with, but this level of rudeness doesn't inspire me to be overly helpful or friendly. If she wanted help she'd have to use her words like a big girl, and god help her if she doesn't say please.
She eventually did come and ask for assistance, she didn't say please and I didn't try very hard.
I walked her over to the shelves she could have easily checked herself and found nothing for her. I wasn't going to spend time digging for anything either. I also wonder why she wants it in spoken word. She's not visually impaired. My bet is she can read anything with more than 4 letters, Stephen King's out of her league, Dick and Jane's more her speed.
Then to top it all off, she actually walked away from me as I was trying to find what she was looking for. I took longer than her ten second attention span could stand.
Some people should be forced in to sterilization programs.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Seriously, what the hell?

I work in a library. It's one of those places that's been stereotyped in countless movies through the years, generally shown as a quiet place, full of quiet, well mannered people and stern, bespectacled, bun wearing, librarian silence Nazis. This is, unfortunately, far from the truth. In reality it's full of loud mouthed, rude, impatient people who have no where better to be (or no where period) and no librarians shushing anyone, ever.
It's not the noise of the people I'm opposed to. What do I care if people want to talk at a reasonable level? What I have an issue with is the rude and impatient people.
We have a decent size movie collection where I work, both VHS and DVD. Part of what I do is reshelving these when they are returned. We put all the movies in order on the trolly, push it out on the floor and put them away. Doesn't sound to hard, does it? It shouldn't be, but that just isn't the way when the vultures are out.
You walk out into a crowd of people who all want a look at what you've got. They tear apart the trolly you just spent 10 minutes sorting out and will quite literally push you out of the way. It's frustrating and on more than one occasion I've wanted to smash some one over the head with a box set. (It definitely doesn't help that a lot of these people have needed a shower since 1982.)
I was one of those days yesterday.
When I shelve DVDs I grab as many as I can and empty or not, 50+ cases are awkward to work with. With my load of DVDs I made my way to their section, just as I set down the first one I hear the one thing I never want to hear in this situation - "Oooh! I got hear just in time." The woman is standing just behind me, if I take a half-step back I'll bump into her. She's not moving either. I can smell her awful perfume and feel her breathing down my neck. I know her type, I deal with them all the time, and they make me angry every time.
She's one of those people who doesn't think I'm a person, who doesn't care that I'm trying to do my job, who's too fucking self-involved to notice something like personal space when it mean she might not get everything she wants. I'm also willing to bet that she's also one of the messies, one of those people who pull everything off the shelf and leave a huge mess for me to clean up.
I try to concentrate on my work. She follows my every move. My shadow gives me more breathing room. I want to scream at her. "Get the fuck away from me!" I set a DVD down, she picks it up - and replaces it in the wrong spot. She saw me put it away, she knows where it belongs, she doesn't care. She's a messy.
I finish off my armful and go back for more. Someone's gotten at the trolly already, animals. They've made a mess of it and I have to try and sort it out again. By the time I get back to the DVDs there are two of them, Ms. Messy and now a Mr. Messy, great. The woman goes back to following me, the guy just stands in my way and I have to work around him - but don't worry, it's not like I'm a person or anything.
My new armload isn't sorted perfectly so I end up having to bounce back and forth from section to section, Ms. Messy has become even more annoying by standing to damned close as well as getting in my way.
I finish off the DVDs as quickly as I can. They're still destroying the entire section when I leave.
I put away the VHS. Less people want VHS, less people bother me. There are a few questions, none that are headache inducing, one asshole who's wearing enough cologne for five or six people (which is definitely headache inducing), and one really creepy guy who's looking a little to long at the pregnancy/baby videos.
When I'm done I notice that the assholes at the DVDs are done so I go back an straighten up. The trolly took me 15 minutes to put away, it takes me another ten just to sort out the mess they made. Fuck.
What the fuck is wrong with people these days that they can't wait 5 minutes for me to do my job? I'm not going to start working faster because you're standing in my fucking way and I'm certainly not going to help you out if you can't do something as basic as respect my personal space.
I'm at work, that doesn't make you any more important than me. Treat me like a person you dumb fuck and I might try to help you out.

Monday, March 20, 2006

More garbage no one really needs to know.

Apparently the #1 song when I was born was "Let's Hear It for the Boy" by Deniece Williams.
You can check out this site to find out yours.
God bless technology

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Take that, person I don't know!

I have to write something about this because it's chapping my ass. Read it, don't, whatever. (trust me, from here on out It's gonna get messy...)
Hostel may or may not be the worst movie ever made, it doesn't matter.
One of the rights we have in this country is the right to freedom of speech and, I will also point out, so is the freedom of choice. Unfortunately some people seemed to forget that whole choice thing and then condemn freedom of speech when they see something they don't like.
I'm fucking sick of these people who go to a movie that has clearly been rated to indicate offensive content and then bitch because the content was, indeed, offensive. In this case, even the trailer warned against excessive violence and gore and told viewers outright to see another movie. And still these fuck-wits pay the admission only to walkout a mere ten minutes later.
It's a horror movie and billed as nothing but, what the hell were you expecting? Lollipops and puppies?
Now you're bitching because you were stupid enough, despite all the warning signs, to pay to see the movie and the movie theater won't refund your money? Aw, muffin. (At very least I would hope that this experience has taught you to be a more careful consumer.)
Oh, but what's this you say? You knew it was a horror movie? You didn't see any of the trailers that were playing at every possible commercial break for months? You didn't read anything about this movie before going to see it? You saw the R rating and ignored it because "lots of movies get R ratings"? Oh well then... Blow me, dumbass!
And I could even let all of this go, if it weren't for one little thing.
You think the movie was shit (oh, sorry. The ten minutes you actually saw), so no one should be allowed to see it.
Horse shit!
Freedom of speech is a bitch like that, it's there for everyone. You start putting limits on it and where does it stop? It has to protect everyone or it doesn't protect anyone.
Maybe you should go spend some time in a country where there is no freedom of speech and then come back and bitch about how bad we've got it here with all this freedom. Come back and tell us how much fun Fascim is.
Until then, could you kindly fuck off.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Another bit of time wasting goodness

I was recently given a link to and I'm very glad I was. It's an awesome site and I've found a couple new bands to listen to. If you haven't been there already, I'd suggest you check it out now... seriously.... NOW!

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Angry Humor, you know I love it.

Lewis Black is a funny, funny man. If you haven't seen Black on Broadway, get it. Watch it. Laugh.

Don't know who I'm talking about? Well here, you poor, simple, jackass - some quotes from the man. (Reading his stuff is funny, but it's put to shame by how funny he is live)

I realize I use the word 'fuck' alot, and I'd apologize for that.. but I don't give a shit

In my lifetime, we've gone from Eisenhower to George W. Bush. We've gone from John F. Kennedy to Al Gore. If this is evolution, I believe that in 12 years, we'll be voting for plants.

It’s absolutely stupid that we live without an ozone layer. We have men, we’ve got rockets, we’ve got saran wrap – FIX IT!!!

If the people of New Zealand want to be part of our world, I believe they should hop off their islands, and push 'em closer.

There's no such thing as soy milk. It's soy juice.

Candy Corn is the only candy in the history of America that's never been advertised. And there's a reason. All of the candy corn that was ever made was made in 1911.

You don't want another Enron? Here's your law: If a company, can't explain, in ONE SENTENCE....what it's illegal.

Behind me, I heard a young woman of 25 say, "If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college." Now, I'm gonna repeat that, because it bears repeating. "If it weren't for my horse..." as in, giddyup, giddyup, let's go — "I wouldn't have spent that year in college," which is a degree-granting institution. Don't think about that too long, or BLOOD will shoot out your NOSE!

Lactose intolerant milk kiss my dick. If you're lactose intolerant you can't drink milk. So what's in the fucking carton? Get it out of there, get it away from my milk. It is talking to my milk and making it feel bad about itself.