Two letters from Starbucks this morning:
Dear Seldom Welcome,
All of my coffee order have several special conditions. Also, I apparently know the lady who works at Starbucks. Is it ok for me talk to her for several minutes after I've placed my order, even though there are people in line behind me? Also, I am kind of cute. Does that make a difference? - Girl with a Weird Hat
Dear Girl,
It's good that you have noticed and probably made very insightful commentary on society's double-standards regarding beauty and customer service. However, I would advise you that there really isn't an acknowledged double-standard regarding how long people ought to stand in line being talky. There is one standard. I call it the Get Ought of Line Once You Get Your Change standard. Feel free to apply it liberally. - SW
Seldom Welcome,
I would like all of my neighbors to think that I am a super-dedicated athlete. Thereby, I go to get coffee wearing iPod earbuds and running tights. - Really a Runner
RR,
No one disbelieves that you are an athlete. Until they see you in your tights at Starbucks, that is. Also, stop using words like "thereby." It just makes you look like a poseur. Well, more of a poseur. - SW
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
So close!
Dear United Airlines Billboard,
If you pay me $20 per day, I will proofread you.
Signed,
Seldom Welcome
Blog
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Put them in there! Do not put them in there!
Dear Someone who Lives in my Building,
Yes, it does take a long time to pour the laundry detergent out of the cup. Those several viscous ounces pour soooo slowly!
BUT! Someone, it turns out you don't need to just drop the whole cup, plastic and all, into the wash. AND! You don't need to leave it in there afterward, making me wonder how something foreign invaded my washing.
Let's not see what detritus next week's laundry brings, kay!?
Yes, it does take a long time to pour the laundry detergent out of the cup. Those several viscous ounces pour soooo slowly!
BUT! Someone, it turns out you don't need to just drop the whole cup, plastic and all, into the wash. AND! You don't need to leave it in there afterward, making me wonder how something foreign invaded my washing.
Let's not see what detritus next week's laundry brings, kay!?
Monday, October 6, 2008
You can call on me. Or so one would think.
A whole new era of office-related advice!
Dear Guy who Tried to Call me Today,
I respect your persistence, but here's the first thing: I emailed you. Maybe that means I wanted you email back? Just a thought. Not call. Email.
It was very clever of you to look up my company's website, based on the fact that I told you where I work (in my signature). Now, I'm pretty sure my name is in the voicemail directory, so...how did you end up calling someone's cell phone? That shouldn't have seemed right.
Then, after you got me (and I gave you my extension) how did you end up calling my boss's cell phone? That's the weirdest part, you know? Sometimes I just don't get you, Guy who Tried to Call me Today.
Talk to you soon! Call me!
Dear Guy who Tried to Call me Today,
I respect your persistence, but here's the first thing: I emailed you. Maybe that means I wanted you email back? Just a thought. Not call. Email.
It was very clever of you to look up my company's website, based on the fact that I told you where I work (in my signature). Now, I'm pretty sure my name is in the voicemail directory, so...how did you end up calling someone's cell phone? That shouldn't have seemed right.
Then, after you got me (and I gave you my extension) how did you end up calling my boss's cell phone? That's the weirdest part, you know? Sometimes I just don't get you, Guy who Tried to Call me Today.
Talk to you soon! Call me!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
More Efficient Complaining
I'm testing out an iPhone app (iPod touch actually) that lets me post to Blogger. If successful, it would mean that I could sometimes give unwanted advice to people just as they annoy me, rather than waiting until I get home.
I know you're excited about that prospect.
Posted with LifeCast
I know you're excited about that prospect.
Posted with LifeCast
Thursday, September 11, 2008
This shouldn't be so hard
To: Two Old Guys who Tried to Steal our Seats at the Soccer Game
CC: Surly Guy Who Wouldn't Slide Over to his Actual Seats when We All Arrived
Yes, I know it's a grand tradition to move to better seats at sporting events.
Yes, we should all be friends and work together to support the US soccer team.
Yes, there are plenty of good seats in the stadium.
Here's the thing -- It was before the national anthems. And we had the actual tickets. That means, by every rule in the book, you have gotta get out of my seats when I ask you to. Also, you are like 55 or 60 years old. You should know better.
These two conversations should not happen.
Me (returning from getting food; seeing our entire 6-seat area taken): Hi. Are you sure you're in the right row?
Head Old Guy: No.
Me: OK...well, I have a group, and we'd like to sit in our actual seats.
HOG: So. There's plenty of good seats.
Me: Um. We just want to sit in the seats we paid for, and we want to sit together.
HOG (taking some other seats that aren't his): Wow, don't make such a [expletive deleted] deal about it.
Me (noticing another group has slid into some of our seats): Hi. We have up to number 12. Are you sure you're in the right numbers?
Surly Guy (takes out a ticket, folded to hide his seat number): What does it matter?
Me: Well, we have a group of seats, and we want to sit together.
Reasonable Guy (shifting his surly friend): We have some space to move down.
Me (politely, to Surly Guy): Thank you.
SG: [expletive deleted] you.
CC: Surly Guy Who Wouldn't Slide Over to his Actual Seats when We All Arrived
Yes, I know it's a grand tradition to move to better seats at sporting events.
Yes, we should all be friends and work together to support the US soccer team.
Yes, there are plenty of good seats in the stadium.
Here's the thing -- It was before the national anthems. And we had the actual tickets. That means, by every rule in the book, you have gotta get out of my seats when I ask you to. Also, you are like 55 or 60 years old. You should know better.
These two conversations should not happen.
Me (returning from getting food; seeing our entire 6-seat area taken): Hi. Are you sure you're in the right row?
Head Old Guy: No.
Me: OK...well, I have a group, and we'd like to sit in our actual seats.
HOG: So. There's plenty of good seats.
Me: Um. We just want to sit in the seats we paid for, and we want to sit together.
HOG (taking some other seats that aren't his): Wow, don't make such a [expletive deleted] deal about it.
Me (noticing another group has slid into some of our seats): Hi. We have up to number 12. Are you sure you're in the right numbers?
Surly Guy (takes out a ticket, folded to hide his seat number): What does it matter?
Me: Well, we have a group of seats, and we want to sit together.
Reasonable Guy (shifting his surly friend): We have some space to move down.
Me (politely, to Surly Guy): Thank you.
SG: [expletive deleted] you.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Let's make a deal
So, usually I just dispense advice outwardly, because, seriously, I'm almost perfect. But, just for today, I'm going to take a little of my own medicine.
And it has nothing to do with the number of commas in those first two sentences.
Here is a compromise that I am proposing:
And it has nothing to do with the number of commas in those first two sentences.
Here is a compromise that I am proposing:
- I - will be more aware of pedestrians when I'm biking through a crosswalk.
- You - will not try to kill me by screaming in my ear as I pass through a crosswalk, sending me flying off my bike and careening into oncoming traffic, just because I didn't come to a complete stop at a STOP sign.
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