Victor, we’re out there with you in that same world… Idiosyncrasies drive us bonkers too.. MUST you share the ones that bug you?
Idiosyncrasies, that bug me, by Henry Gibson.. Incessant. Working around someone that verbalizes everything, EVERYTHING, they do. Talk as they think/do. Again, and again, and again. Do they still make corks for things other than to shore up a wine bottle? Is it at all possible that the ears don’t work when the mouth is open, cause I think this be the case.
Loud. Don’t get me wrong, I hear a gamut of songs, I crank. I’m talking ‘work loud’, no, not incessant person.. nudder.. Yes, what one is working on is THE MOST IMPORTANT thing in your day/moment, but it’s not so important that folks 17 cubicles over haveta hear too. I comprende folks have no idea the volume with which they speaky, but I’d love to see everyone bring a tape recorder with ‘em to work (do they still make ‘em?) and replay at day’s end. Insert turning head side-to-side, exhaling thru bouncing lips here.
The old guy (prolly my age) in the way too GD (gosh darn) tight lycra outfit on his bicycle at the 4-way stop on the Western edge of town. When I was a kid, I think I remember “right turn, left arm extended, bent at 90 degree angle, with palm, upper arm pointing upward. And left turn, simply extending arm horizontally to the left. Hot. (More on the heat later).. Hot. A hunnerd. I traverse the 35 minutes (no AC) back to my hometown, come to the 4-way 6 blocks from home. Said “too GD tight lycra outfit guy on bicycle” and I next up to go. No signal from him. Repeat, no signal from him. So, my brain thinks, “the guy’s wearing “too GD tight lycra outfit on a bicycle” (remembering rules from yesteryear), he’s obviously going straight. (He going South, I North).. So I go. Straight. At the same time, he turns left.. gives me this astonished snarl, lifts his palm up mid-chest, palm up as if to say “what gives you idiot”.. I take a deep breath, and then lapse into that person I don’t wanna be and yell “SIGNAL!” at the “folks 17 cubicles over” can hear level.
I go to Mickey D’s every Saturday/Sunday morning. It’s my fattening treat to me. I walk in, 5 snotnoses (said lovingly) behind the counter, all faithfully refilling whatever spoon, straw, condiment, whatever it is they’re supposed to refill. This goes on for two minutes as I stand wantonly bellied up to the counter (which probably equates to 45 seconds, but whatever, too GD (gosh darn) long for a paying customer (ain’t that “why we’re here?”) to go without an order being taken. Twenty, even ten years ago, this woulda never popped out.. but to the oblivious ones (and no one in particular) I verbalized “I’m ready to order now.”…
Little redheaded gal comes to the register, gives me onea those overly fake “ya grumpy old bastard” smiles, and takes my order. She then goes back to refilling whatever it is she’s refilling. Roughly a full minute after I see the gal place my goodies in the “I’m ready tray” (I love this gal, the cook.. She GETS customer service”).. my order-taker is back filling whatever it is she’s supposed to fill. Ten years ago I’da never said “I think my order is ready”, but I said it, and redheaded gal goes, fetches, anudder plastic smile that bodes “Wow, you are REALLY a grumpy old bastard (topped off by "have a GREAT day!").. and perhaps I am/can be a grumpy old bastard..
Then again, I’m perfect. My well maintained car has no AC. Today, the driver’s side windows decided (both) “eh, we’re gonna take a break, sorry.. good luck fixing” (They’re down btw).. I go to the dadgum hangout too frequently.. I don’t eat right.. I smoke like a chimney… Without using the word “shit”, when at work I deem management to be UPON OCCASION fulla shit, off base, I relate same.
I have sheetrock falling down in my home ‘cause I ain’t got the $10K tucked away for a new roof (I know, I know, “insurance”.. I know it’s due to age.. I couldn’t consciously “turn it in to insurance”
I ‘waste’ hour after hour on the internet.. My neighbors keep the city on speed dial as my grass approaches “that length”.. my backyard is atrocious (was once a nice underground pool, shrubs, yada yada).. I have stinky breath, and upon occasion I probably have skid marks (VICTOR! You’ve relatives that read this!)…
Once again, I’m glad I’m perfect, and it’s really everyone else that’s messed up.
Happy day, love Victurd
(Victor, maybe you need to simply get laid) <-- HEY! NO FAIR.. to all my relatives who perhaps happen by here, I DID NOT type that!... My password has obviously been hacked!)
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