Parking Lots, Post Offices, and Morons: Oh My!

The other evening I had to pick up my friend from IKEA (where his wife and he were looking at model kitchens for a remodel ideas).  I was a bit early so I parked my truck, popped off some text messages, and was about to pull out when some stupid lady decides to walk right behind my truck with her shopping cart.  It’s not like I’m backing up fast but common sense would dictate that it would probably be safer if you let me back up out of the parking stall instead of trying to get run over.  Why not make sure that the driver of the truck can see your sorry ass?  I really didn’t see her because there was a huge SUV next to me and she was hidden.  Yet, she thinks that it is a good idea (and safe) to step right behind my truck as I’m backing up.

After I almost drive over the moron lady, I proceeded to drive to the other side of the parking lot to pick up my friend.  That would be pretty simple feat if not for the fact that people like to walk right in front on my truck with a death wish.  Seriously?  Do they want to die?  I think part of the problem is that I drive way too slow and conservative in parking lots.  Because I’ve seen kids dart from in between parked cars right in front of cars racing through the parking, I now tend to be cautious while driving through parking lots.  Maybe they know I will not drive over them because I drive like a little old man.  It is annoying to have people step in front of me with no consideration of their well being and safety.

Besides stupid people walking in front of my truck, I have to wait for this huge SUV to back out of a tight parking spot. Again, stupid people are walking behind the SUV without a care in the world.  What is with people?  What if he hit the gas instead of the brake and squished you like a possum on the freeway?  Would you like that?  I’m just asking for a little common sense.  Is that too much to ask for?  And if you have a huge SUV, could you learn to drive it?  Taking ten minutes to pull out of a parking stall is a little too much time for me to wait.  As a good driver, you shouldn’t have to pull in and out of the stall eight times to get out of your parking stall.  It’s pretty easy even if people are getting in your way (really just drive over them already….do us all a favor!).

It isn’t just at IKEA that I meet stupid drivers.  At my local grocery store, there are always people driving the wrong way in the parking lot.  This isn’t a brand new grocery store, it has been here for years and I know these drivers aren’t tourists on holiday in America.  They are just inconsiderate jerks that have to drive the wrong way just to make me mad.  I know they are doing it on purpose.  They can’t be that stupid….or can they?  Sure, they are that stupid.  Who am I kidding?

I’ve decided that most people like to annoy me.  They go out of their way to drive the wrong way, they like to walk in front of my truck, and they don’t seem to care about the fact they are inconsiderate to me.

Another example: At the post office, I had a lady putting stamps on her envelopes right in front of the only mailbox I could put my package into.  I have a box to mail; I don’t have a letter I can slip through the mail slot.  I need to put the box into the only door that will accept a package this big.   My package already had the postage on it and it just needed to be dropped in the outgoing mail slot.  It is a two second job to drop it in the package slot; unless you have an inconsiderate person blocking it.

She is putting her postage stamps on her outgoing mail as if this area is a work counter.  It’s not a work counter; the 12 foot counter top where no one else is at is the work counter.  Go over to the counter: You could have all 12 feet to yourself!  But, “Oh No” standing in front of the only place where people can mail their package is a MUCH better spot.

I’m tired of people being rude and inconsiderate.  But what do I know?  I just write a Worthless Advice Blog.

King of the Slacker’s Lastest Adventures

Another day of doing nothing….

I clearly remember that after I finished my first year of college, I was working at a warehouse during the summer full time (after going to school the past year full time AND working full time) and usually got in about 10-11 hours a day of work.  I had to pay my own college tuition, car insurance, gas, and food.  I think at that time I had a pager (no cell phone in those days).  At one point, I had a second job during that summer being a lifeguard for a short summer program.  Now, I tell you to put into perspective when I tell you I really have a very hard time with KOTS (King of the Slackers) not having a job.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he just got back from a very successful year at college studying pre-med and getting a high GPA.  Instead, at 11:25 am, I get to hear a new excuse of “my stomach doesn’t feel good” and another day of not looking for work.  However, I was pleased to discover that his dear mother (my wife) listened to me and told him that IKEA was looking for workers in their restaurant.  He did manage to leave the house after a nice long shower and a good breakfast of eggs, toast, and milk (all supplied by yours truly). Supposedly he headed to the Renton IKEA to apply for a job we had to tell him about.  I’m surprised I didn’t have to hold his hand and walk him across the street to apply for the job.

A lot of KOTS’ (King Of The Slackers) life is based on “supposedly” and “allegedly” doing things that involve improving his life and looking for a job.  Supposedly, KOTS was going to clean his room….allegedly he was going to stop by our friend’s KFC (our friend’s nephew is the manager) and get a job application.  Yet this never seems to happen in his realm of reality.  In the meantime, I still end up paying and getting really, really annoyed.

It wouldn’t be so bad (at least I tell myself this) if he picked up after himself, turned off the lights, put his own dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and just pulled his own weight.  Instead, we get the pleasure of cleaning his dirty crusty dishes and burnt egg on our frying pans.  Even after I tell him to his face in the kitchen that he needs to put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, he ignores me.

What do you think would be a good answer when I remind him to take care of his dishes?  A normal human might say “I’m sorry, I’ll do it” or simply say “thanks for the reminder”.  What do I get out of KOTS?

“My bad.”

“Oops.”

Or my favorite “I forgot.”

How the hell do you forget something I told you flipping 30 seconds ago?  If I smacked you across the head with a baseball bat do you think you’d forget that in thirty seconds?  This isn’t rocket science; it’s simply good manners.

Now one would wonder why I put up with this crap.  I really wonder why myself.  Mostly it stems from my love for my wife and my avoidance of having to deal with arguing with my wife over KOTS lack of respect and motivation.  If I was a violent individual, I really probably would have put my fist thru KOTS’ face a hell of a long time ago.

I would argue that to encourage KOTS to actually do something, one must set goals and work towards them.  If he doesn’t like it he can move out.  There is no free ride in this world, even the bus costs you something.  I’m asking for something if you plan to ride the bus.

KOTS’ mother’s fear is that when we actually put our foot down, KOTS will be so upset, he’ll move out.  Her poor 18 year old little boy will be homeless and starve to death if we put our foot down.  She seems to forget that:

  1. His father lives about 60 minutes away and has a house.  Gee, do you think he could live there?
  2. He has numerous friends that he could crash with.
  3. He could actually find a job and rent an apartment with a roommate.

Honestly, do you really think his Dad isn’t going to take him in?  Come on, let’s wake up and smell the coffee.  Let’s shift the burden over to his Dad’s household.  Hell, I’d pay for the moving van on this project.

Until next time my two readers (and Cyndi my stalker)……

Upcoming subjects:

One inch of Milk

Kevin’s Generous Moving Out Offer

Cell Phones and Left Arms