Yesterday, my fuse was shorter than the hemline on one of Paris Hilton�s skirts. Which is to say, practically nonexistent. And sadly, people in general were unable to respect that.
It all began as I was leaving the mall -- a treacherous and often insurmountable task on the best of days -- and I encountered a stone-faced woman working the exit booth. The rates were clearly marked in all sorts of places, so it wasn�t as if I could possibly have missed that the first three hours were $1.00 in total with the following hour costing $1.00 as well. I had been at the mall for four hours (I went to see a movie with some friends -- I didn�t actually spend four hours shopping), which comes to a wopping total of two bucks, so you can imagine my consternation when Stone-Face put my ticket in and charged me $4.00.
So I asked her, quite bluntly although not disrespectfully, why it cost twice as much as the posted rates. And do you know what she said? NOTHING! She didn�t answer me at all. And it�s not like she didn�t hear me, either, because not only were we two feet apart, but she was also looking me in the eye when I asked! So I tried again, clarifying the rates as they were posted -- which she confirmed, verbally -- and I then asked again why, if the rates said one number, was she charging me twice that? Once more, SHE COMPLETELY IGNORED ME! That really pissed me off. I wasn�t accusing her, and I wasn�t getting belligerent; I just wanted to understand why the signs were lying to me, and she couldn�t even do me the courtesy of shrugging and saying she didn�t know! That scurvy fishwife.
So then I leave the mall and am immediately swallowed into the belly of the beast known as Midday Traffic in Los Angeles. What the fuck is up with people not knowing how to drive?? Is there some special class where people are instructed on how to brake suddenly and for no apparent reason in the middle of a busy intersection? Was I the only one paying attention on the day the teacher said, �And hey -- try not to pull out in front of oncoming traffic, because it�s rude and you might get yourself fucking killed.�? And I understand the safety and comfort issues behind leaving some space between yourself and the car in front of you, but if you�re going twenty-five miles per hour and getting cut off by fucking stretch limos, you�ve officially crossed The Line. On this side of The Line are Defensive Drivers. On that side of the line are Obnoxious Fucks Who Need To Close The Thirty Foot Gap Or Get Ready To Be Run Off The Fucking Road.
And then there�s my latest pet peeve: People who don�t know how to do laundry. I believe I already familiarized you all with the Great Laundry War of 2003, in which I engaged two weeks ago with some dude in my building. Well, I went down there yesterday to put my clothes through a much-needed spin cycle -- and already I was ticked off because, thanks to the lying, cheating Parking Gestapo at the mall, I had to use my laundry quarters to post bail for my car -- and when I went to toss my clothes in the dryer, I discovered that some assclown had left his crap in the machine. For TWO HOURS! I can totally understand losing track of the time, or being in the middle of something and unable to get away for a moment, but two hours is longer than a moment, y�all. Dude, our building only has two washers and two dryers, so when you monopolize one for 120 plus minutes, it really is an inconvenience!
So anyway, I was cranky and hungry, and I folded my laundry like a man possessed before finally having a moment to sit down and cook dinner. I�m doing much, much better today (far less hate for my fellow man burns in my bosom at the time of this posting), but that may have something to do with the fact that I�m so fucking exhausted, I can barely be taxed to care, let alone hate anyone.
Is apathy better than crazed, irrational exasperation with the human race?
Someone Got Here By Searching For: maltese EVIL EYE And: why did david e kelley fire people from the practice I�m Watching: Home movies. I�m a real nostalgia geek. I�m Eating: Health food. I�ve got more energy, and I feel good about myself, but my body hasn�t spoken to me ever since I stopped giving it chocolate.