Irrational Irritations and other unnecessary issues (22/9/15)

Porridge today Gromit! Tuesday… wait no. Profanity-laced complaints over things that I really have no control over and probably no real right to whine about today! Tuesday. Today I’d like to vent a little about the bloody weatherman.

Specifically whatever weatherman is feeding information to my iPhone. ‘Cause he/she/they keeps getting it really fuckin’ wrong. Like really ridiculously wrong. Like I-could-look-out-the-window-and-give-a-better-forecast-for-the-rest-of-the-week-no-seriously-I-think-that’s-what-they’re-doing-but-in-a-different-city wrong.

I mean, it should have been raining all week but here we are during that week and the sky is clear save for some runty white clouds that don’t seem to want to stick around. Where’s my rain random person foretelling the weather? Where’s my goddamn rain?

Aside from the usual annoyance that comes from not knowing what to wear (do I bring a jumper? do I bring something waterproof? will it, won’t it? if it doesn’t I’m gonna be stuck with the extra weight and baggage and I’ll probably be even sweatier than normal and why must I even wear t-shirts to work?) it’s also making it harder to gauge whether or not it’s going to be busy or quiet day/night at work.

Now, some of you might be asking why “I don’t just download a more reliable weather app or check more accurate sources?” Shut up, that’s why. I have an app provided by the people who make my phone already on my phone, it is reasonable for me to expect it to work. Then again, these are the same people who developed Apple Maps, so maybe I shouldn’t expect to much.

Alright, talk soon guys. Unless the weatherman forgets to inform us about an upcoming blizzard or something.

Irrational irritations and other unnecessary issues (15/9/15)

It is Tuesday once again and that means another we get to hear me whine about something that has no real effect on my life or others. This week people who send their drinks back.

“Back to where?” you might be asking, somewhat stupidly. “To wherever they were made!” I am answering, also somewhat stupidly but with much more flourish. In my case it would be the bar, but this could also be the barista, the juice-machine technician or the fitness-conscious neighbour you’re visiting who looks alarmingly good in lycra and really didn’t have to offer to make you a mango-strawberry protein smoothie but did and you accepted anyway so it really would be exceptionally rude for you to complain about it now (besides, don’t you wish you looked that good in lycra? those smoothies must do help). My experience is with drinks being sent back to the bar.

It doesn’t happen all that often. Tends to surprise people I tell that it happens at all, in fact. But it does happen. This beer is too sweet. This whiskey sour isn’t sour enough. This Caesar is too spicy (a Canadian drink that will probably be a later topic). I didn’t know that mojitos had mint in them. Plenty of reasons, few of them good in my humble opinion. But that might be because I hold people to my unreasonable standards, cause I don’t send drinks back. I might bitch and moan about how Budweiser is weak-arse fermented cat piss, but if for whatever reason I find myself in possession of a bottle of it (usually ’cause the person shouting this round DOESN’T KNOW ME AT ALL DAMNIT!) then I am gonna drink the bastard. A few months back I ordered a whiskey sour, hold the bitters. The bartender misheard me (I have a funny accent round these parts) and thought I said “all the bitters”, so she bittered it up. Of course I drank it anyway. Because you don’t waste goddamn alcohol. You get it, you drink it, you order something better next time.

It’s just good manners people.

Not to mention it breaks my Aussie heart to collect unfinished drinks. Don’t break my Aussie heart, you cold-hearted bastard. Finish your bloody beer.

Irrational irritations and other unnecessary issues (8/9/15)

Yo. Here we are, on time. This week’s topic: overt displays of affection by couples in queues. Let’s get right into it, like these couples get right into each other. Alright, that was a bloody atrocious attempt at a play on words I admit. But don’t you judge me. Writing is hard. Like a bloke feeling up his lady-friend in a line buying movie tickets. Heh, that was better.

Something that I’d like to make very clear is that I don’t necessarily have an issue with public displays of affection. If you wanna dry-hump your partner with your tongue three quarters of the way to triggering their gag reflex, then that is quite alright. But pick an appropriate time and place to do it, like on the grass at a park beneath a warm sun or in the corner of a dingy pub beneath the energy efficient lighting installed so long ago it’s now just lighting that takes two minutes to switch on. Waiting in line at the M&M store, however, is not.

I’m also not (usually) one of those “think of the children” people. No, in this case I’m more “Oh god the couple in front of me are sucking face a half foot from my face and I can’t move back because the queue’s too crowded and I keep trying to look away but then they make a weird noise and I’m back to staring at them and this is getting really uncomfortable is it just because they’re incapable of talking to each other that’s not a sign of a healthy relationship if they can’t and shit he’s just made another weird noise what the hell is wrong with these folks for the love of god will the person in front please hurry up they’re still going at it” kind of people.

Now, admittedly I might just be jealous. I probably am a little. After all, who enjoys knowing that random strangers are getting some when we’re not. But I find it hard to believe that I’m the only one who starts feeling awkward and uncomfortable when two or more people decide that the best way to handle being stuck in a crowd of tightly packed strangers is to start necking each other.

I’m not telling you to get a room, just wait until you’ve got more than two feet of space. Think of the children or something.

Irrational irritations and other unnecessary issues (11/8/2015)

Today’s topic is people who don’t tuck their chairs in when they leave a table.

This may not seem like a big issue, but working in a bar/restaurant it has become something I see all the time. All the fucking time. And it is annoying. Someone finishes their meal and leaves the restaurant, ducks off to the washroom or heads out for a smoke. Doesn’t tuck their chair back under the table. Just leaves it hanging out there, in the middle of the space where customers have to walk. More importantly where me and my co-workers need to walk. Carrying full trays of drinks and arms full of plates full of food which we really don’t want to spill over our otherwise lovely and discerning customers (I generally try and avoid glassing patrons or breaking plates over their heads as well, if it can be avoided), the risk of such happening going up exponentially when some inconsiderate person leaves a goddamn tripping hazard in the middle of a regularly traversed passage.

I mean, we spot and avoid these metaphorical icebergs easily enough most of the time (though there’s been at least one occasion where I manoeuvred around a knot of departing guests only to stumble on a chair and narrowly manage to avoid spilling hot water all over a customer by reversing direction and taking the literal scolding myself). Point is though we shouldn’t have to. Seriously, what the fuck un-chair-tuckers? It takes all of half a second and no real effort to slide a flimsy bit of varnished wood across another bit of varnished wood so it sits neatly beneath a bit of varnished wood. It’s not a fucking palanquin. It’s not made out of stone. It’s not that goddamn difficult. Quite frankly, you should have learned how to do it in fucking primary/elementary school.

So please, for the love of god and to be a less of a pain in the arse for the rest of humanity, tuck your bloody chairs in when you leave the table.

Irrational irritations and other unnecessary issues (4/8/2015)

Today let’s talk about bicycles, trains and why a combination of the two is one of the worst possible things that can be inflicted on the world.

If you’re a long time reader then you might remember my feeling towards hopping on a bicycle ranges between telling people that I never do and threats involving circular saws. Turns out I have just as strong an opinion about other people who do cycle. Specifically, I have just as strong an opinion of people who decide to bring their bikes, their big, clumsy, awkward bikes, onto trains and buses with the rest of us. Because it’s fucking annoying.

You see it all the time on the train. Some hipster with a top-knot who’s parked his fixie across three seats. A bloke whose mountainous mountain bike blocks off half the carriage (and probably the doors as well) forcing the crowd that piles in after into a fraction of the space that should be available to them. Someone on their way to work risking a fine and the anger of their fellow commuters by bringing their carbon fibre monster onto the train against the rules during peak hour. A uni student trying to be helpful by lifting her bike vertically so it’s resting on it’s rear wheel, then being shocked when the rocking caused by a gentle bend sends the front wheel straight towards some poor bastard’s head (but god bless her, at least she’s trying). Another hipster leaving bruises and annoyed glares in their wake as they roughly shove another fixie in amongst the crowded carriage, then roughly drags it back out again at the next stop.

Not everyone who brings their bike on the train is a massive pain in everyone’s arse of course (#notallcyclists). I know a guy who always makes sure when he’s catching the train, after a long day of work and never during peak hour, to park his bike against the carriage doors that only open once on his entire trip home (and that’s his stop anyway). Plenty of people manage to get their bikes onto a train without pissing off everyone else. It just makes the inconsiderate ones look like even bigger jackasses.

So next time you’re thinking about dragging your bike onto the public transportation system, ask yourself two questions. The first is: “am I physically capable of getting this heavy lump of metal on and off the train without injuring, delaying or otherwise inconveniencing my fellow commuters?” The second question would be: “is the train so packed with people that it answers the first question for me?”

It it’s “no” to the former and “yes” to the latter, or even a maybe to either, than you probably shouldn’t be dragging your bike onto the train. Here’s an idea, how about instead you actually ride your bicycle to wherever you want to go instead. Ever thought about that? Fucking crazy thought, I know. But, hey, you guys are the ones always banging on about how cycling is a legitimate mode of transportation. So go and bloody prove it.

Irrational irritations and other unnecessary issues (27/7/2015)

It’s amazing the things that piss you off. I’m an easily offended, judgemental arsehole myself who’ll decide that an individual should be judged based upon a single bad habit or personality quirk. And I’m not talking about the big things that go into how we construct our individual identities like beliefs, preferences and biases. If you’re not hurting anybody then I’m not going to judge. No, I’m talking about ridiculous superficial shit. Like wearing a baseball cap at a uselessly jaunty angle. I hate people who wear baseball caps at uselessly jaunty angles so goddamn much. I try not to judge, but I do anyway. Because I’m a human being and that’s what we do. Judge. Bitch. Whine. Complain. So I’m gonna do something that I’m going to claim is constructive and start writing this stuff down in a series of light-hearted rants. Sometimes. Maybe weekly. We’ll see. Hopefully weekly. Let me know what you guys think, and we’ll see how long I can keep it up. Possibly. I get bored of this stuff too quickly sometimes. Moving on. Short one today.

This week’s topic is people who ask for water and don’t drink it. My great nemeses (that’s the plural for nemesis right? nemeses? I’ll google it later). This can be applied to people who don’t finish their drinks in general, but I take particular ire with people who don’t drink their water after they’ve asked for it. Why? Practicality mate. Practicality.

Y’see, working as a server (waiter) in a restaurant on a busy day, having to get water for a table as well as their paid beverages is a bit of a pain in the proverbial arse. That two minutes spent pouring glasses of water could be better spent taking orders or running food or making sure customers aren’t having violent allergic reactions to fucking kale or something. Seriously, I am bloody terrified by the possibility of customers having violent allergic reactions. I think most of us are.

But the getting of the water isn’t so much the problem, it is the not drinking of that water. I can carry a lot of empty glasses without a tray, stacking’em high and balancing them in the crook of my arm. I consider it a point of pride being able to clear a table without need for a tray. I fucking hate carrying full trays. I should always use trays but I don’t have the best balance, and I can actually usually carry more empty glasses than safely fit on a tray. Means that I can clear a recently vacated table without a tray as I pass it by. Means I can get a table cleared a lot faster for the next customer/s that needs it, which is good for everybody. But if the glasses are full, say, of water then I can’t stack the bastards. Need to go get a tray, come back, maybe have to make a second or third trip if it was a big table. Waste of everyone’s time that could be better spent making sure there aren’t any violent allergic reactions taking place. I’m a bit hung up on that tonight. Sorry ’bout that. Also, I hate using trays. So when customers don’t drink the water they asked for, it means they’re forcing me to use something I irrationally hate using. Maybe more than once. That’s not cool. Not cool at all.

I’m gonna throw it out there as well, there are a lot of places right now that are in the middle of some pretty severe droughts or don’t have access to clean water. Hell, here in Vancouver you’ve just got to look a few hours south at California, where they’re running out. So, yeah, you not drinking your water is basically mocking all those people who don’t have access it. That’s not cool either, you arrogant bastard.

Anyway. The message here is drink your goddamn water. Especially if you ask for it. Do it for me (or whoever’s serving you and clearing your table). Do it for Californians. Do it so you stay hydrated and healthy. Makes the hangovers easier the next morning.

Maybe next week I’ll talk about why people who don’t finish their drinks generally are arseholes as well. Or something else. We’ll see.