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Parenting Skillz
I know I know, I'm late. But I had to ninja strike the last day of Best Buy's Boxing Day/New Year's sale. My giganticnormousawesome new monitor is magnificent and fills me with funny feelings like when we use to climb the rope in gym class.
Grr.
SC: “Wow, I’m surprised you’re answering!”
Wow, I’m surprise you’re calling at 3am to ask me how to set the timer on a washing machine! Funny that regardless of how much you, or the legions of other twits like yourself over the years, doubt that someone will answer it just never seems to quite stop you from calling does it? You always have to go ahead anyhow. Take that chance. Embrace the sweet, ripe fruit of delusional optimism and sink your teeth into its witless juices. In some situations this sort of perseverance might be admirable. However, in these cases even if you do reach me, 99.99% of the time I can’t help you anyway because your question or request is still something that could only be fulfilled during business hours anyhow.
So in some sense by answering your call I am dangling the faint shred of hope in front of you for one glorious moment and then cruelly snatching it away. This thought pleases me.
Low Standards
C: “Thanks, honey!”
You’re welcome, suddenly and unsettling affectionate stranger. You’ll have to forgive me. I wasn’t aware out relationship had blossomed so well over the past 30 seconds. I’m afraid I must question your standards if this was all it took to reach such a warm level of companionship between us. Or rather at me from you. I don’t think myself too horrible a catch mind you. However, if I can reverse engineer your criteria here, it seems to be “Male, breathing and employed”.
Ringing in 2010
I would greet you all with the optimal salutation of “Happy New Year”. However, I have just witnessed a man urinating on the ATM machine inside ( Yes, inside. ) 7/11 while bellowing “Singing in the rain” and it has somewhat dampened any jubilation I may have had for welcoming in the new year.
Leave Me Alone
Me: “and your phone number please?”
SC: “Oh, just one moment, let me find it.”
Me: “Alright.”
SC: “One moment….this may take a moment. In the mean time I wish you, how you say, Happy new year. Do you wish it to me to?”
Unless “fuck me running” is an acceptable way to usher in the new year in your country then no, no I don’t.
Wait For It
SC: “Yes, I bought a coat from you about 4 years ago.”
…..sigh. No good can possibly come from this prologue. None.
SC: “But it was a knee length coat and I was wondering if you have full length coats?”
…we…do, yes. What is it you have come for? I trust you not. There is something more to this. You will do something that will bat this over the fence of normality, across the road of logic and into the snake infested swamp of outright stupidity. Come on. Take a swing. I know you can do it.
Me: “Yes we do.”
SC: “Oh, what do they look like?”
Me: “…..”
SC: “Like can you describe the picture of it for me?”
Annnd it’s a home run. Describe it to you? I’m not sure what combination of elements I could glean from the picture that would form any sort of unique identification beyond “coat”. I am looking at it. I see a coat. It has buttons. And pockets. It is full length. It is composed of goat hair. I do not understand what other details you expect me to glean? Do you want me to count the buttons or some such?
SC: “My knee length one only has 4 buttons, how many does that one have?”
……I am not counting the buttons for you.
SC: “Is it on sale?”
Me: “Yes, it's currently 40% off as part of the new year's sale.”
SC: “That’s the sale price?”
Me: “Yes.”
SC: “Do you have any coupons or other discounts?”
Me: “Yes, we offer one for free shipping over $100.”
SC: “Oh. Well do you know if it’s going to be reduced in price any further in the near future?”
….you’re asking if the $1000 pure cashmere coat that's currentl 40% off with free shipping will become even cheaper in the foreseeable future? Somehow I highly doubt this.
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have any information regarding further price reductions for it, no.”
SC: “Oh, well is there somewhere else I can talk to there to ask?”
….On the other hand I may strangle you in the foreseeable future. But rest assured it will be with soft, warm, 100% cashmere fabric.
Hot Tips
SC: “I hear the Islanders are coming out of the closet when they play the Midnight Cowboys.”
….I…just…wait, what? That….what? The entirety of the New York Islanders are going to come out of the closet when they play…Jon Voight? Don’t get me wrong, I mean I would pay money to see that. I’m just highly suspect that it will ever come to pass.
What does it matter?!
SC: “I had a question. I’m looking at both your blankets and your throws, and I don’t know which one to get. One is 60 x 80, the other is 52 x 72.”
Me: “Alright”
SC: “Does that include the tassels?”
….I have a better question for you: Why are you asking me such an honestly downright stupid question? Both items are the same material. Both are the same price. Both have 4 inch tassels. Regardless of the answer to your question they will still both be approximately 8 inches apart in length and width.
The only actual difference is one is a blanket and the other is a throw. The only question you need ask yourself is “Do I want a blanket or a throw?”
SC: “It’s a Christmas present.”
That’s nice. It’s 2010 now. You realize that right? Or do you mean it’s for next Christmas?
SC: “My daughter is going to get it for me but she doesn’t know which one to get. Can she just order them both and send back one?”
….this is a Christmas present she’s getting you so late that it’s already 2010 and that she has not only told you she is buying it for you but asked you to call to make the profoundly complex inquiry that is eluding both of you? Wow, apple didn’t fall to far from the tree on that one, did it?
Hot Tips #2
SC: “Yeah I just figured out how you can catch every serial killer on earth.”
Pit them against Jon Voight?
SC: “see they all keep in touch with each other over the computer. So just check their computer and you’ll find the rest.”
…..so you’re saying they have a Facebook group? Got it.
Again, leave me alone
SC: “Wish me luck!”
I can assure you I’m wishing you something alright and it certainly involves luck. Unfortunately it also involves bears.
....
Just a quick note for the monkey boy in line at the store this evening: I realize you’re attempting to throw every piece of Japanese you know at those two cute Japanese girls in some ill advised attempt at initiating a mating ritual. However, while I only know some Japanese, I do know enough to understand that you’re calling them “salmon rice balls”. Which may not be quite as flattering a compliment as you seem to believe.
They are not giggling because they think you are cute. They are giggling because they think you are retarded.
Parenting Skillz
I keep telling myself I should just walk to the Skytrain and give up on the blackened chariot I normally ride. But alas, I am persistently a lazy sow and continue to board the bus like an obedient pleb. Even though I should know better by now. Thus I once again bore witness to the very fringes of humanity’s collective intellect.
This evening a shrill female creature boarded just behind me with a baby carriage that was fully equipped with one carry on sized citizen. I’m not precisely sure if it belonged to her or if she had made off with it in the night and was now fleeing towards the border. But none the less she had somehow obtained this mini me and parked it in the provided space on the bus before returning to the front to pay her fare. And that’s where the trouble began.
See this low grade con artist had hatched a most magnificent plan. One that would surely save her quite a few dollars and carry her about as far as her first encounter with a Transit employee. In other words right now. You see she had purchased a concession fare. Specifically a monthly one. You know, concession. Normally reserved for those age 5 to 13 or 65 to dead. Of which she was obviously neither. But that didn't stop her from attempting to invoke her most glorious plot. You see she had not planned to try and shed nor add additional years to her being. She planned to use the concession fare and then just pay the difference between it and the regular fare. Those of you playing the home game should realize that fares do not work this way.
Now any normal, coherent human being would grasp this and give up on this fool quest. But not this chica, oh no. She must debate this point. At length. With the bus driver whose job description vividly includes understanding how the fare system works. Her entire argument seemed to revolve around the dubious fact that the convenience store clerk she purchased it from told her she could use it this way. When that failed, she attempted to argue the exact same thing again. Several times. The bus driver wisely pointed out that the store clerk is a store clerk and not a member of Translink such as himself whose knowledge of the devious inner workings of the fare system would vastly outclass that of a store clerk trying to hock a $50 fare pass on you.
But no, let’s just keep arguing and distracting the bus driver while he’s trying to drive thus putting all our lives in danger!
Apparently the bus driver was thinking something similar and told her to go sit the hell down and shut up. I’m not really paraphrasing that either. So the oaken mire bitch storms off stamping her feet like a 4 year old all the way to the back of the bus, plops herself down near her other passengers and very loudly proclaims that the bus driver is being a jerkface stinkyhead. I’m not really paraphrasing that either. At this point I, who seem to have more finely tuned parental danger sense then the person that is actually a parent, look up because I immediately realized she has completely forgotten about the kid and left the carriage and child up at the front of the bus completely alone. It takes her a full 2 minutes and 3 stops of everyone staring at her intently for this to clue in and cause her to remember she has children and storm back to the front.
Bravo.
annnd rest. For now...
Grr.
SC: “Wow, I’m surprised you’re answering!”
Wow, I’m surprise you’re calling at 3am to ask me how to set the timer on a washing machine! Funny that regardless of how much you, or the legions of other twits like yourself over the years, doubt that someone will answer it just never seems to quite stop you from calling does it? You always have to go ahead anyhow. Take that chance. Embrace the sweet, ripe fruit of delusional optimism and sink your teeth into its witless juices. In some situations this sort of perseverance might be admirable. However, in these cases even if you do reach me, 99.99% of the time I can’t help you anyway because your question or request is still something that could only be fulfilled during business hours anyhow.
So in some sense by answering your call I am dangling the faint shred of hope in front of you for one glorious moment and then cruelly snatching it away. This thought pleases me.
Low Standards
C: “Thanks, honey!”
You’re welcome, suddenly and unsettling affectionate stranger. You’ll have to forgive me. I wasn’t aware out relationship had blossomed so well over the past 30 seconds. I’m afraid I must question your standards if this was all it took to reach such a warm level of companionship between us. Or rather at me from you. I don’t think myself too horrible a catch mind you. However, if I can reverse engineer your criteria here, it seems to be “Male, breathing and employed”.
Ringing in 2010
I would greet you all with the optimal salutation of “Happy New Year”. However, I have just witnessed a man urinating on the ATM machine inside ( Yes, inside. ) 7/11 while bellowing “Singing in the rain” and it has somewhat dampened any jubilation I may have had for welcoming in the new year.
Leave Me Alone
Me: “and your phone number please?”
SC: “Oh, just one moment, let me find it.”
Me: “Alright.”
SC: “One moment….this may take a moment. In the mean time I wish you, how you say, Happy new year. Do you wish it to me to?”
Unless “fuck me running” is an acceptable way to usher in the new year in your country then no, no I don’t.
Wait For It
SC: “Yes, I bought a coat from you about 4 years ago.”
…..sigh. No good can possibly come from this prologue. None.
SC: “But it was a knee length coat and I was wondering if you have full length coats?”
…we…do, yes. What is it you have come for? I trust you not. There is something more to this. You will do something that will bat this over the fence of normality, across the road of logic and into the snake infested swamp of outright stupidity. Come on. Take a swing. I know you can do it.
Me: “Yes we do.”
SC: “Oh, what do they look like?”
Me: “…..”
SC: “Like can you describe the picture of it for me?”
Annnd it’s a home run. Describe it to you? I’m not sure what combination of elements I could glean from the picture that would form any sort of unique identification beyond “coat”. I am looking at it. I see a coat. It has buttons. And pockets. It is full length. It is composed of goat hair. I do not understand what other details you expect me to glean? Do you want me to count the buttons or some such?
SC: “My knee length one only has 4 buttons, how many does that one have?”
……I am not counting the buttons for you.
SC: “Is it on sale?”
Me: “Yes, it's currently 40% off as part of the new year's sale.”
SC: “That’s the sale price?”
Me: “Yes.”
SC: “Do you have any coupons or other discounts?”
Me: “Yes, we offer one for free shipping over $100.”
SC: “Oh. Well do you know if it’s going to be reduced in price any further in the near future?”
….you’re asking if the $1000 pure cashmere coat that's currentl 40% off with free shipping will become even cheaper in the foreseeable future? Somehow I highly doubt this.
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have any information regarding further price reductions for it, no.”
SC: “Oh, well is there somewhere else I can talk to there to ask?”
….On the other hand I may strangle you in the foreseeable future. But rest assured it will be with soft, warm, 100% cashmere fabric.
Hot Tips
SC: “I hear the Islanders are coming out of the closet when they play the Midnight Cowboys.”
….I…just…wait, what? That….what? The entirety of the New York Islanders are going to come out of the closet when they play…Jon Voight? Don’t get me wrong, I mean I would pay money to see that. I’m just highly suspect that it will ever come to pass.
What does it matter?!
SC: “I had a question. I’m looking at both your blankets and your throws, and I don’t know which one to get. One is 60 x 80, the other is 52 x 72.”
Me: “Alright”
SC: “Does that include the tassels?”
….I have a better question for you: Why are you asking me such an honestly downright stupid question? Both items are the same material. Both are the same price. Both have 4 inch tassels. Regardless of the answer to your question they will still both be approximately 8 inches apart in length and width.
The only actual difference is one is a blanket and the other is a throw. The only question you need ask yourself is “Do I want a blanket or a throw?”
SC: “It’s a Christmas present.”
That’s nice. It’s 2010 now. You realize that right? Or do you mean it’s for next Christmas?
SC: “My daughter is going to get it for me but she doesn’t know which one to get. Can she just order them both and send back one?”
….this is a Christmas present she’s getting you so late that it’s already 2010 and that she has not only told you she is buying it for you but asked you to call to make the profoundly complex inquiry that is eluding both of you? Wow, apple didn’t fall to far from the tree on that one, did it?
Hot Tips #2
SC: “Yeah I just figured out how you can catch every serial killer on earth.”
Pit them against Jon Voight?
SC: “see they all keep in touch with each other over the computer. So just check their computer and you’ll find the rest.”
…..so you’re saying they have a Facebook group? Got it.
Again, leave me alone
SC: “Wish me luck!”
I can assure you I’m wishing you something alright and it certainly involves luck. Unfortunately it also involves bears.
....
Just a quick note for the monkey boy in line at the store this evening: I realize you’re attempting to throw every piece of Japanese you know at those two cute Japanese girls in some ill advised attempt at initiating a mating ritual. However, while I only know some Japanese, I do know enough to understand that you’re calling them “salmon rice balls”. Which may not be quite as flattering a compliment as you seem to believe.
They are not giggling because they think you are cute. They are giggling because they think you are retarded.
Parenting Skillz
I keep telling myself I should just walk to the Skytrain and give up on the blackened chariot I normally ride. But alas, I am persistently a lazy sow and continue to board the bus like an obedient pleb. Even though I should know better by now. Thus I once again bore witness to the very fringes of humanity’s collective intellect.
This evening a shrill female creature boarded just behind me with a baby carriage that was fully equipped with one carry on sized citizen. I’m not precisely sure if it belonged to her or if she had made off with it in the night and was now fleeing towards the border. But none the less she had somehow obtained this mini me and parked it in the provided space on the bus before returning to the front to pay her fare. And that’s where the trouble began.
See this low grade con artist had hatched a most magnificent plan. One that would surely save her quite a few dollars and carry her about as far as her first encounter with a Transit employee. In other words right now. You see she had purchased a concession fare. Specifically a monthly one. You know, concession. Normally reserved for those age 5 to 13 or 65 to dead. Of which she was obviously neither. But that didn't stop her from attempting to invoke her most glorious plot. You see she had not planned to try and shed nor add additional years to her being. She planned to use the concession fare and then just pay the difference between it and the regular fare. Those of you playing the home game should realize that fares do not work this way.
Now any normal, coherent human being would grasp this and give up on this fool quest. But not this chica, oh no. She must debate this point. At length. With the bus driver whose job description vividly includes understanding how the fare system works. Her entire argument seemed to revolve around the dubious fact that the convenience store clerk she purchased it from told her she could use it this way. When that failed, she attempted to argue the exact same thing again. Several times. The bus driver wisely pointed out that the store clerk is a store clerk and not a member of Translink such as himself whose knowledge of the devious inner workings of the fare system would vastly outclass that of a store clerk trying to hock a $50 fare pass on you.
But no, let’s just keep arguing and distracting the bus driver while he’s trying to drive thus putting all our lives in danger!
Apparently the bus driver was thinking something similar and told her to go sit the hell down and shut up. I’m not really paraphrasing that either. So the oaken mire bitch storms off stamping her feet like a 4 year old all the way to the back of the bus, plops herself down near her other passengers and very loudly proclaims that the bus driver is being a jerkface stinkyhead. I’m not really paraphrasing that either. At this point I, who seem to have more finely tuned parental danger sense then the person that is actually a parent, look up because I immediately realized she has completely forgotten about the kid and left the carriage and child up at the front of the bus completely alone. It takes her a full 2 minutes and 3 stops of everyone staring at her intently for this to clue in and cause her to remember she has children and storm back to the front.
Bravo.
annnd rest. For now...
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