Good Morning To You, Too
What a screwed-up morning! I’ve had enough stress for an entire day in the last 40 minutes I’ve been awake. It’s almost all due to traffic (since, indeed, I haven’t done anything else for those last 40 minutes but commute to work).
It all started with the road leading out of our community. The lawn care people decided that morning rush hour would be an eminently good time to park their truck in one of the two egress lanes, then plant a Gatorade cooler even further into the road like a bastardized traffic cone, and start sprinkling all the shrubbery with fertilizer. Why they couldn’t park on the grass is beyond me.
So naturally the line of traffic leading out of the community is backed up all the way back to the gate (where a cop has actually pulled over some woman in the middle of the road, I might care to add), and some idiot in a Toyota Sequoia decides to honk at me and force his way past me so he can make a left turn onto the main road. Dude, I know there’s only one lane out of here instead of two. Can you please blame the lawn care idiots instead of honking at me? WTF did I do? I screamed at the guy at the top of my lungs, but forgot my windows were up, so that was a waste of energy.
Then I got out onto the street and proceeded to sit in the usual bumper-to-bumper traffic that extends pretty much the entire 8-mile stretch of Vanderbilt Road. Some shitcock in a Ford Expedition is tailgating me bigtime. But to keep things interesting, it’s a sporadic tail—he’ll close to point-blank range, then fall back, then close again…it’s like the fool is playing with me. Halfway down the road he finally turns onto an intersecting street, so I’m rid of him.
Things are starting to chill out now, and the rest of the way to my office building is pretty uneventful. Till I get in the parking garage. When they built our garage, for some reason they built these wall extensions at the end of each aisle that transform every U-turn into a blind curve which, as you approach it, you pray to God no one’s going to come barreling through in the opposing direction. You pray this because the architectual geniuses also made the aisle in each U-turn abysmally narrow, so two cars are almost incapable of making the turn in opposing directions at the same time.
So naturally this morning, as I’m creeping through the first U-turn at speeds so low my car threatens to stall, some idiot in a rackety brown 1991 Oldsmobile Cutlass comes ripping through the U-turn the opposite way, cutting across the thing in such a way that he’s using the entire aisle and I have to completely stop. Again I scream “YEAH RIGHT” and again the window is up so no one hears. Frustrated more with this than with the incompetent driver, I drop into neutral and nail the accelerator, filling the entire garage with the cacophony of howling V8 exhaust, 25% of which is bypassing the muffler. I hope the goddamn fool’s ears bled, I swear to Christ.
Then I went up to the top floor, parked as usual, and as I’m going in the door to the building, it opens in my face. Two women come out to have their “smoke a cigaratte and talk it up” break, and I momentarily contemplate the stupidity of this given that it’s only 8:30 and they can’t possibly have been at work for very long, yet they already need to placate their innate desire to slack off and fill their sacks of humanity with nicotine. Despite my reprehensible mood I say “Hi” to them, and again I’m treated like human scum as they look at me like I’m a frickin’ alien and then start gabbing to each other without any kind of resopnse. Well, good morning to you too, douche bags.
That’s really about it, except the most irritating saleswoman was in the kitchen talking to the CEO when I got there, and she really annoys me. This is the same woman who, the last time I was in the men’s room, was heard trying the door of both the men’s room and the women’s room, and then, when I came out, she promptly greeted me and went into the men’s room. Okay, well I had to stand there and stare at the placard on the wall that said “MEN” just to make sure it really was there, and that I hadn’t imagined it. Whatever. Rather than walk down the hall to the other women’s room, go ahead and use the men’s room. Fine. It’s okay if you do that, right? But no men better dare go in the women’s room, that’s for sure. This really just smacked of “bitch!” to me so I immediately lowered my expectations of this person, and as yet, I haven’t been proven incorrect in doing so. She also has a loud and boisterous laugh that you can hear clear across the office, and she is laughing and giggling it up constantly. But I’ve come to expect that, just as I’ve come to expect the entire sales department to basically not do fuck all of anything, which is why we haven’t met our sales projections in months despite constantly adding sales reps.
Whew. Well, I’ve ranted for about twenty minutes, so it’s time to get down to work.
Categorized as Rants