Saturday 16 November 2013
Monday 26 August 2013
For Your Consideration: 3 Pictures
This image shows the roof of the store I work at. The building is not conducive to life. It has all metal siding, with gravel-on-tar roof; there's no good reason why anything should be growing here.
I think this little plant is the coolest thing in the world, and it always makes me smile when I look at it; it's a testament to the power of nature and the persistence of life in general. It reminds me of "The Rose that Grew From Concrete" by Tupac, an old favourite poem.
This is just a cute sleepy puppy sawing logs on my chest. That's all.
I think this little plant is the coolest thing in the world, and it always makes me smile when I look at it; it's a testament to the power of nature and the persistence of life in general. It reminds me of "The Rose that Grew From Concrete" by Tupac, an old favourite poem.
 |
This is a church I walk by all the time. I forgot I had this picture, but it, too, makes me laugh every time I look at it. I walked right up to the people on the front lawn and told them "the Jews did it."
This is just a cute sleepy puppy sawing logs on my chest. That's all.
Thursday 6 June 2013
When Vegetarians are Assholes or; Why I Dread Pizza Parties
"Hey, we're ordering pizza for lunch, what do you want on it?"
The question from hell!
We're all been there: you're so excited that the meal is going to be pizza at work/a fundraiser/a group hangout/your bris and in the crunch, you don't even care what's on the pizza. You don't want to be boring and just say "cheese and pepperoni" but really, all you want is cheese and pepperoni. Bacon would be great, but the classic approach is best and easiest. Maybe you say meat lovers to look manly (hard to seem masculine and say meat lover in the age of "that's what she said") or Canadian to keep it interesting, or extra cheese because you're fat, but most likely you say "I'm good with anything!" because you're a decent and considerate human being. But...you didn't want this...
There's always some goof who ends up getting vegetarian pizza in a group order, and nobody but them wants it. You go to take your share, and *gasp* the pep-and-cheese is nearly gone. Again, trying to be courteous, you only grab two slices, because you know someone else wants the good pizza, but you're hoping that you can come back for seconds. Never. There's never more of the good pizza! So you grab some of that baked salad and try to pick the toppings off to make it palatable (maybe it will just taste like cheese pizza, you tell yourself), but it never does. The vegetables have ruined the cheese and sauce! So you starve! You go hungry because of the misappropriation of community funds! Taxation without representation! Give me cheese wheels or give me death!
Which is not to mention that more of the veggie pie ends up going to waste than not, so these people who scorn our murderous topping choices need to fall off their high horses and break a neck or two because the real sin here is the wasted pizza, and the vegetables that could have made a delicious salad.
OR there's some dinkweasel who always wants Hawaiian, so aptly called because there is, hilariously, pineapple on it. I don't know if Hawaiian people like Hawaiian pizza toppings (doubtful, because so few others do) but I do know that I've wasted hundreds of dollars over the years on communal pizza ordering that went into some soggy fruit being baked into my pie. Who likes fruit on pizza anyway?
Why is THAT guy always in charge of ordering the pizza? I sometimes wonder if they don't do it so they can scoop the leftovers, or get a bigger portion, because nobody else wants it. And I'm ignoring the strange new combos that have popped up, like chicken and broccoli (great together off-pizza) or spinach and feta (ditto!) that we sometimes have to deal with, because these are the classic examples.
I know the gut reaction to this is "Hey, I like things besides cheese and pepperoni on my pizza." I do too! But check the stats. This is about group orders. That one box of C&P will be empty after lunch (or before you even get to it); the Hawaiian slices will be about 1/3 gone, but a lot of the pineapple will be thrown back into the box; and the vegetarian will have maybe, MAYBE, four slices gone.
Or, try the Pizza Hut lunch buffet (excellent value for your appetite). They can't bake the cheese and pepperoni fast enough to replace it, but that one veggie pizza will sit through the entire lunch period. Every fifteen minutes you can walk back up and stare at it, and hate it, like it hates you. Now your meal is ruined, all because some mook piped up and said "Ummm, excusthe me. I don't eat meat."
You selfish bastards.
Once, in the wee hours of the morning, after many, many wobbly pops, some friends and I ordered Chinese food. When the delivery boy got there, inexplicably, everyone had gone to bed, but I was left holding all the money everyone chipped in, and I was very much awake. I ate EVERYTHING, and called it karma.
The question from hell!
We're all been there: you're so excited that the meal is going to be pizza at work/a fundraiser/a group hangout/your bris and in the crunch, you don't even care what's on the pizza. You don't want to be boring and just say "cheese and pepperoni" but really, all you want is cheese and pepperoni. Bacon would be great, but the classic approach is best and easiest. Maybe you say meat lovers to look manly (hard to seem masculine and say meat lover in the age of "that's what she said") or Canadian to keep it interesting, or extra cheese because you're fat, but most likely you say "I'm good with anything!" because you're a decent and considerate human being. But...you didn't want this...
- Mushrooms...you know that's a fungus, right?
- Tomatoes. You're aware this entire thing is covered in smashed tomato, right?
- Onions. My breath is going to be bad enough after this garlicky mess, thank you.
- Peppers? It's not Mexican night.
- Olives. Olives! You fascists.
- Right, I get that it's a vegetarian pizza and all but...where's the meat?
There's always some goof who ends up getting vegetarian pizza in a group order, and nobody but them wants it. You go to take your share, and *gasp* the pep-and-cheese is nearly gone. Again, trying to be courteous, you only grab two slices, because you know someone else wants the good pizza, but you're hoping that you can come back for seconds. Never. There's never more of the good pizza! So you grab some of that baked salad and try to pick the toppings off to make it palatable (maybe it will just taste like cheese pizza, you tell yourself), but it never does. The vegetables have ruined the cheese and sauce! So you starve! You go hungry because of the misappropriation of community funds! Taxation without representation! Give me cheese wheels or give me death!
Which is not to mention that more of the veggie pie ends up going to waste than not, so these people who scorn our murderous topping choices need to fall off their high horses and break a neck or two because the real sin here is the wasted pizza, and the vegetables that could have made a delicious salad.
OR there's some dinkweasel who always wants Hawaiian, so aptly called because there is, hilariously, pineapple on it. I don't know if Hawaiian people like Hawaiian pizza toppings (doubtful, because so few others do) but I do know that I've wasted hundreds of dollars over the years on communal pizza ordering that went into some soggy fruit being baked into my pie. Who likes fruit on pizza anyway?
Why is THAT guy always in charge of ordering the pizza? I sometimes wonder if they don't do it so they can scoop the leftovers, or get a bigger portion, because nobody else wants it. And I'm ignoring the strange new combos that have popped up, like chicken and broccoli (great together off-pizza) or spinach and feta (ditto!) that we sometimes have to deal with, because these are the classic examples.
I know the gut reaction to this is "Hey, I like things besides cheese and pepperoni on my pizza." I do too! But check the stats. This is about group orders. That one box of C&P will be empty after lunch (or before you even get to it); the Hawaiian slices will be about 1/3 gone, but a lot of the pineapple will be thrown back into the box; and the vegetarian will have maybe, MAYBE, four slices gone.
Or, try the Pizza Hut lunch buffet (excellent value for your appetite). They can't bake the cheese and pepperoni fast enough to replace it, but that one veggie pizza will sit through the entire lunch period. Every fifteen minutes you can walk back up and stare at it, and hate it, like it hates you. Now your meal is ruined, all because some mook piped up and said "Ummm, excusthe me. I don't eat meat."
You selfish bastards.
Once, in the wee hours of the morning, after many, many wobbly pops, some friends and I ordered Chinese food. When the delivery boy got there, inexplicably, everyone had gone to bed, but I was left holding all the money everyone chipped in, and I was very much awake. I ate EVERYTHING, and called it karma.
Wednesday 29 May 2013
I Don't Like It, So I'd Like to Put A Sock in It: Why "Single Ladies" Might Be The Worst Song Ever Made
I know this is a dated criticism, but this song refuses to go away, so neither can the irritation it causes. I still have to hear it every day at work, and hear people humming it (thanks, Superbowl) and hear the occasional scorned woman (could be a man, but I haven't heard it yet) quote it. I don't think it is unreasonable to analyze the memes that are propagated so consistently in our lives. So this is dedicated not just to the song's writers and singer, but to everyone who keeps it alive in their heads and hearts.
I'd like to preface this criticism with the following statement: I do not hate pop music. I thought I did, for a long time, but 2012 was actually a decent year for pop, if you're into originality, and 2013 has had some good ones so far: as of this writing, the extremely talented and deserving (independent) duo of Macklemore and Ryan Lewis are sitting comfortably at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100, JT has re-emerged as a new, albeit less phenomenal (and less paedophelial) MJ and I like most of what he does, even AWOLNATION finally got some large-scale international regard...for a song that is years old, but whatever, it's a serious song. This is not to mention fun. (hit or miss), Adele (say something...I dare you!) and Mumford and Sons. The point is: there is a lot of good pop music. This song is not in that class.
And just so I wasn't talking out my ass, I spent enough time watching Beyoncé videos to make me want to take an acid shower and scrub myself with steel wool. I did that to get an honest picture of her public persona, and after hearing just one song, I can understand how that attitude might pick up someone who is going through a tough time. But as it goes on and on with the same theme, all I see from her whole girl-power thing is a bunch of stereotypes that, at a deeper level, actually reinforce all the gender-related, usually relationship-focused, negatives that she attempts to refute. That, and terrible acting.
(Really, really terrible acting. I mean, Foxy Cleopatra in Goldmember was bad, but at least it was a little funny in a blaxploitation kind of way. Watching her scold another hack masquerading as high art ["...a very, very bad girl, Gaga!"] was cringeworthy.)
From the first seconds, this audio tragedy is sure to annoy.
"All the single ladies, all the single ladies,
All the single ladies, all the single ladies,
All the single ladies, all the single ladies,
All the single ladies"
WHAT?! What about them?! You call all the single ladies out, then immediately start spitefully addressing what seems to be an ex-boyfriend. What have single ladies done to deserve this address? Do you have advice? Did you consider they might enjoy just being single/harbour no ill will to their ex/ don't need to be looked at by another? Maybe they don't want to be pointed out like that. Did you consider that maybe their partners died? No you didn't, Beyoncé, or rather, whoever writes her music, because you were just trying to make another song that fit the "sassy"/"I don't need a man" persona, like most of her music.
But according to a write-up in People Magazine, this song was made to address "the fear or unwillingness of men to commit." There is not one searching or serious lyric in the entire thing, just a lot of woman-scorned nonsense. Look:
"I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips
Got me tighter in my Dereon jeans
Acting up, drink in my cup
I can care less what you think"
(Zero to do with the supposed subject matter. Petty.)
"I need no permission, did I mention
Don't pay him any attention
'Cause you had your turn, and now you gonna learn
What it feels like to miss me"
The whole object of this song, really, is to create jealousy, or, in a wider context, to create people (read: women) who feel bigger by making other people feel small. Good job Beyoncé, you've contributed to moral and intellectual degradation.
"[...]
Here's a man that makes me, then takes me
And delivers me to a destiny, to infinity and beyond
Pull me into your arms, say I'm the one you own
If you don't, you'll be alone, and like a ghost, I'll be gone"
Did...did you just quote Buzz Lightyear? I am not a religious man, but one of the things I do hold sacred, sacred enough to launch jihad over, is Toy Story. Maybe if you didn't take someone else to make you and deliver you to destiny, and had a little bit of confidence or substance in your own right, you wouldn't need to be so hateful.
This is the bulk of what is said in the song besides the laughably stupid chorus
Fully half of Beyoncé's shtick is dancing, including in this song, but Single Ladies, arguably her biggest hit to date, doesn't have a dance anyone can duplicate (go check YouTube, I'll wait), so you can't lose yourself in the silliness like The Macarena, or YMCA, or Gangnam Style or whatever. Seriously, what the hell is this?:
The above image reminds me of something I was told about how women in advertising are always portrayed in unnatural, submissive, or suggestive poses, as compared to more typical, comfortable, or power-evoking displays of men. It doesn't get any more unnatural than that picture, unless B & co. are doing their elephant impressions, in which case, D+.
Sasha Fierce takes us further into her treasure trove of self esteem with this passage, repeated several times throughout the song:
Oh, oh, oh,
Oh, oh, ohhh,
W'oh, oh, ohhh,
Oh, oh, ohhh,
Oh, oh, ohhh
These are filler noises, the like of which Coheed and Cambria would envy. Those "lyrics" take up a good chunk of the song... How does this address the unwillingness of men to commit (other than giving them a really good reason not to if you hear a woman singing this song)? This would make Bon Jovi blush.
The repetition isn't just lyrical; the music these silly words are set to is shamefully inane. The percussion does the exact same loud, obnoxious thing for the entire song, save about 8 seconds where it stops. And then, does it roll out on the hi-hat? Does it jump back in with a cool fill on the toms? Nope, it just goes right back into that weird clap. Hmm. "The clap" might be a good name for this song, actually, as it did go viral (whatever that means) and is infectious. All the ladies with gonorrhea, all the ladies with gonorrhea....
Two guys, one who calls himself "The-Dream," and the other Christopher "Tricky" Stewart are responsible for this insult to our ears, and I think it's safe to say that unless you're Quincy Jones or Freddy Mercury you can not get away with doing the exact same thing on percussion for three minutes straight. It's 2013, brah, kill the drum machine.Weird noises do not qualify as a melody, either. I'd like to talk more about how the music contributes to the overall crumminess, but I don't even know what the sounds are, and let's be honest, you didn't hear it anyway.
So why is Single Ladies worse than other repetitive garbage? Surely bad pop comes out all the time, how is this different? Because, as I said of Lady Gaga earlier, it masquerades as high art. It really tries to get you to believe it is inspirational, and musically original, and that the video is something worth noticing, as if shooting in black and white makes art legitimate. And no, they did NOT do it in one take. Watch it again.
Its apologists will tell you that it is empowering for women, but that is nowhere in the lyrics. And it's true that interpretation can be entirely subjective, but I'd wager no one who has graduated high school can honestly reflect on this song and call it mature. Case in point: "If you like it then you should have put a ring on it / Don't be mad when you see that he want it." The first bit might be true, but what does that say for a woman's self confidence? What does a ring have to do with anything? If the man liked it, he should have taken ownership, then what? And then Beyoncé simply attempts to evoke jealousy. I'm sure this plays well in the desperate housewives camp, but in modern feminist eyes I can only imagine Beyoncé looks like an idiot and a puppet, a cash cow at best.
But the whole thing deflates if you consider the very real possibility that the guy probably didn't like it enough to put a ring on it, which is exactly WHY he didn't put a GD ring on it! We never hear from this man. Maybe she was a total asshole the entire time.
And moreover, shouldn't the "he" from "don't be mad when you see that he want it" be taking notes of what he's in store for? This woman gets her self confidence from dogging people who made her sad, and drinking in tight expensive jeans that gain the attention of more men. Sounds like a real winner to me.
I'd like to preface this criticism with the following statement: I do not hate pop music. I thought I did, for a long time, but 2012 was actually a decent year for pop, if you're into originality, and 2013 has had some good ones so far: as of this writing, the extremely talented and deserving (independent) duo of Macklemore and Ryan Lewis are sitting comfortably at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100, JT has re-emerged as a new, albeit less phenomenal (and less paedophelial) MJ and I like most of what he does, even AWOLNATION finally got some large-scale international regard...for a song that is years old, but whatever, it's a serious song. This is not to mention fun. (hit or miss), Adele (say something...I dare you!) and Mumford and Sons. The point is: there is a lot of good pop music. This song is not in that class.
And just so I wasn't talking out my ass, I spent enough time watching Beyoncé videos to make me want to take an acid shower and scrub myself with steel wool. I did that to get an honest picture of her public persona, and after hearing just one song, I can understand how that attitude might pick up someone who is going through a tough time. But as it goes on and on with the same theme, all I see from her whole girl-power thing is a bunch of stereotypes that, at a deeper level, actually reinforce all the gender-related, usually relationship-focused, negatives that she attempts to refute. That, and terrible acting.
(Really, really terrible acting. I mean, Foxy Cleopatra in Goldmember was bad, but at least it was a little funny in a blaxploitation kind of way. Watching her scold another hack masquerading as high art ["...a very, very bad girl, Gaga!"] was cringeworthy.)
"All the single ladies, all the single ladies,
All the single ladies, all the single ladies,
All the single ladies, all the single ladies,
All the single ladies"
WHAT?! What about them?! You call all the single ladies out, then immediately start spitefully addressing what seems to be an ex-boyfriend. What have single ladies done to deserve this address? Do you have advice? Did you consider they might enjoy just being single/harbour no ill will to their ex/ don't need to be looked at by another? Maybe they don't want to be pointed out like that. Did you consider that maybe their partners died? No you didn't, Beyoncé, or rather, whoever writes her music, because you were just trying to make another song that fit the "sassy"/"I don't need a man" persona, like most of her music.
But according to a write-up in People Magazine, this song was made to address "the fear or unwillingness of men to commit." There is not one searching or serious lyric in the entire thing, just a lot of woman-scorned nonsense. Look:
"I got gloss on my lips, a man on my hips
Got me tighter in my Dereon jeans
Acting up, drink in my cup
I can care less what you think"
(Zero to do with the supposed subject matter. Petty.)
"I need no permission, did I mention
Don't pay him any attention
'Cause you had your turn, and now you gonna learn
What it feels like to miss me"
The whole object of this song, really, is to create jealousy, or, in a wider context, to create people (read: women) who feel bigger by making other people feel small. Good job Beyoncé, you've contributed to moral and intellectual degradation.
"[...]
Here's a man that makes me, then takes me
And delivers me to a destiny, to infinity and beyond
Pull me into your arms, say I'm the one you own
If you don't, you'll be alone, and like a ghost, I'll be gone"
Did...did you just quote Buzz Lightyear? I am not a religious man, but one of the things I do hold sacred, sacred enough to launch jihad over, is Toy Story. Maybe if you didn't take someone else to make you and deliver you to destiny, and had a little bit of confidence or substance in your own right, you wouldn't need to be so hateful.
This is the bulk of what is said in the song besides the laughably stupid chorus
Fully half of Beyoncé's shtick is dancing, including in this song, but Single Ladies, arguably her biggest hit to date, doesn't have a dance anyone can duplicate (go check YouTube, I'll wait), so you can't lose yourself in the silliness like The Macarena, or YMCA, or Gangnam Style or whatever. Seriously, what the hell is this?:
 |
| "Cuz if ya smelt it, then it's likely that ya dealt it..." |
The above image reminds me of something I was told about how women in advertising are always portrayed in unnatural, submissive, or suggestive poses, as compared to more typical, comfortable, or power-evoking displays of men. It doesn't get any more unnatural than that picture, unless B & co. are doing their elephant impressions, in which case, D+.
Sasha Fierce takes us further into her treasure trove of self esteem with this passage, repeated several times throughout the song:
Oh, oh, oh,
Oh, oh, ohhh,
W'oh, oh, ohhh,
Oh, oh, ohhh,
Oh, oh, ohhh
These are filler noises, the like of which Coheed and Cambria would envy. Those "lyrics" take up a good chunk of the song... How does this address the unwillingness of men to commit (other than giving them a really good reason not to if you hear a woman singing this song)? This would make Bon Jovi blush.
The repetition isn't just lyrical; the music these silly words are set to is shamefully inane. The percussion does the exact same loud, obnoxious thing for the entire song, save about 8 seconds where it stops. And then, does it roll out on the hi-hat? Does it jump back in with a cool fill on the toms? Nope, it just goes right back into that weird clap. Hmm. "The clap" might be a good name for this song, actually, as it did go viral (whatever that means) and is infectious. All the ladies with gonorrhea, all the ladies with gonorrhea....
 |
| Close, but not quite. |
So why is Single Ladies worse than other repetitive garbage? Surely bad pop comes out all the time, how is this different? Because, as I said of Lady Gaga earlier, it masquerades as high art. It really tries to get you to believe it is inspirational, and musically original, and that the video is something worth noticing, as if shooting in black and white makes art legitimate. And no, they did NOT do it in one take. Watch it again.
Its apologists will tell you that it is empowering for women, but that is nowhere in the lyrics. And it's true that interpretation can be entirely subjective, but I'd wager no one who has graduated high school can honestly reflect on this song and call it mature. Case in point: "If you like it then you should have put a ring on it / Don't be mad when you see that he want it." The first bit might be true, but what does that say for a woman's self confidence? What does a ring have to do with anything? If the man liked it, he should have taken ownership, then what? And then Beyoncé simply attempts to evoke jealousy. I'm sure this plays well in the desperate housewives camp, but in modern feminist eyes I can only imagine Beyoncé looks like an idiot and a puppet, a cash cow at best.
But the whole thing deflates if you consider the very real possibility that the guy probably didn't like it enough to put a ring on it, which is exactly WHY he didn't put a GD ring on it! We never hear from this man. Maybe she was a total asshole the entire time.
And moreover, shouldn't the "he" from "don't be mad when you see that he want it" be taking notes of what he's in store for? This woman gets her self confidence from dogging people who made her sad, and drinking in tight expensive jeans that gain the attention of more men. Sounds like a real winner to me.
 |
| Beyoncé apologized for Kanye, but not for the drugs that inspired him. |
This song needs to die.
Friday 22 February 2013
Gettin' Real Sick of Canadians
Ever since I learned in high school history that nationalism was one of the primary triggers of World War I, I've been suspicious of being overproud of where I was from. Canada has a pretty good worldwide reputation, but what did we (especially younger people) do to deserve that? And moreover, what does saying "I'm Canadian" have to do with anything? You live between this line and this line, that's all it really means. All of the worst people I know are Canadian. Does that make it a bad place? No, it just means I live here.
You don't get to claim the traditions of the area you're from if you did not contribute to whatever it is you're talking about. War veterans can be proud of our freedoms. You (unless you are one) can't; you didn't risk your life for it. You can be happy about it, but you cannot logically or reasonably claim it and it is the word "proud" that really rots my ass in this whole mess. This pride is indicative of privilege, stereotype, and mental weakness.
Up until the last few years, I've been the first one in a room to yell how proud I was to be Canadian. But I realized that that didn't have any bearing on me, my values, or even the people I learn from. I went through the entire list of my favourite authors and musicians, and of them one was a Canadian band and one was Scottish author with Canadian citizenship; everyone else was English or American.* So much for carrying the torch. The one local (from Windsor) author I've read wrote an embarassingly bad book that made two separate anachronistic errors in one sentence on the first page.**
Instead of being proud of where you're from, we ought to just say we're happy about it, because you didn't do anything to earn it. You were born, congratulations, here's your trophy. If you vote, and the MP/MPP/Party/Prime Minister you voted for does something that makes the province or country a better place, then you can logically have a microscopic modicum of pride in your country, because technically, you did something. Inasmuch as a government represents its people (debatable), I am very, very un-proud of Harper-era Canada.
Often Canadian pride has much to do with not being American; here in Windsor especially, where we can look out our windows and see Detroit. You know what? I am happy to not be American. I'm also happy to not be Ugandan. That's not how I define myself. A negative definition is no definition.
Sometimes this is a statement full of gratitude, usually when observing or learning of some tragedy, about how good life is within these state borders. Saying you're grateful to live where you are is pandering, whether intentional or not, to happenstance, or if you'd prefer, your god of choice. Again, it's different to say you're happy about it, but grateful? To whom? Did your parents make the tough decision between continuing to live where they did or moving to North Korea? Did they intend for you to have the (comparatively) privileged life that you do? No, they raised you as per the dictates of the society that you were both born in, which is why you even know those concepts.
What's more, saying you're grateful you were born here suggests there's someone or something to be grateful to which means that someone or something actively causes famine, flood, drought and disease elsewhere. That's SICK.
In essence, you have the causality mixed up. You don't live where you do because you are lucky, you feel lucky because you live where you do.
Canadian stereotypes are sometimes funny, sometimes annoying, but always cliché:
I don't like maple syrup. I don't like anything maple flavoured. Bite my ass.
I don't wear flannels because we've figured out how to make every garment made out of a certain material an ugly one. Great show, Canada.
I do drink Tim Horton's coffee sometimes (not at all exclusively), because I feel it has a good, harsh bite to the taste of it, it's cheap, and their machines get hotter than my own.
I do enjoy hockey, but it's not a religion, because religions are stupid. With the season being locked out this year, I've realized how easily I can live without it.
I've never met a lumberjack.
We're not that nice. I meet more pricks than nice people, and I work with the public. All the biggest assholes I know were born and raised in Canada.
I do say "aboot." I'm taking the piss out of morons who think we actually say that.
Curling is stupid. It's not even a game like golf is a game, it's just doing housework unproductively.
Our free health care is good, but not great, and it will go down more because people don't understand the mechanics that a system of that magnitude requires and don't want to support it.
Similarly, our education is being Nerfed because of intellectual concessions we are making for the sake of political correctness that no one you'll ever talk to actually agrees with.
Poutine is disgusting.
Classified is an awful rapper. He's boring and his songs suck, especially his pandering, heart-strings piece of garbage about this country. Drake sucks, too.
I don't hate Justin Beiber. I don't like him, but I don't hate him either. He's just there. I don't know how to define Canadian, but he's obviously not it.
And past any of those statements, you can't say anything about me. Am I a bad Canadian?
Let's be clear: I am not ashamed of the country to which I claim citizenship, I just think it's an arbitrary distinction.
American patriotism is an oft-lampooned topic, but I think it might actually make more sense than our own. You'll hear a lot of "America is the greatest country in the world" garble, but is that so wrong? Countries and their attributes are extremely hard to define, about as hard as it is to have a conversation with 315 million people, in this case. So why not just pull a line out of your cornhole and hammer it home at every opportunity you get? Nobody is reasoning anything anyway!
It's especially weird to hear Anti-American definition in Windsor, Ontario. A large part of our economy and culture is overflow from Detroit, Michigan yet these same people are virulently anti-American in their self-definition. Those same people are hockey fanatics; (fair enough) and some of them are Detroit Red Wings fans. If you were to ask them why they are Wings fans, instead of Toronto Maple Leafs fans, you'll get one of three answers:
1.Detroit is closer.
2.There are just as many Canadian players on the American team anyway.
3.They had such and such childhood experience that engendered a love of the Wings in them (Dad was a Wings fan, loved Steve Yzerman, first hockey game was at the Joe, etc.).
So at some levels, some of the people who would fight you if you were to call them American have already done away with border lines. I am not saying there is something wrong with patriotism, I'm saying there is a lot wrong with unfounded patriotism, and the aspersions that it can cast.
We are in fact being dragged down by this kind of thinking, because it allows for mental sloth; "We're better than them, so we don't need to work at it." This has taken serious hold in the United States where the ratio of doctors and professors who are actually American compared to those who are foreign born is beginning to get pretty sad for a country so well equipped to lead the world.
We need to be more realistic about our shortcomings, and then work at them, and stop letting politicians get away with wasting our time and money. Enlightenment knows no geographical borders. If we develop a national culture of work ethic and realism instead of inflated ego and flag waving, then the things we do under that maple leaf will be worth something.
Please leave a comment with your thoughts.
 |
| Nationalism in a nutshell. |
You don't get to claim the traditions of the area you're from if you did not contribute to whatever it is you're talking about. War veterans can be proud of our freedoms. You (unless you are one) can't; you didn't risk your life for it. You can be happy about it, but you cannot logically or reasonably claim it and it is the word "proud" that really rots my ass in this whole mess. This pride is indicative of privilege, stereotype, and mental weakness.
Up until the last few years, I've been the first one in a room to yell how proud I was to be Canadian. But I realized that that didn't have any bearing on me, my values, or even the people I learn from. I went through the entire list of my favourite authors and musicians, and of them one was a Canadian band and one was Scottish author with Canadian citizenship; everyone else was English or American.* So much for carrying the torch. The one local (from Windsor) author I've read wrote an embarassingly bad book that made two separate anachronistic errors in one sentence on the first page.**
Often Canadian pride has much to do with not being American; here in Windsor especially, where we can look out our windows and see Detroit. You know what? I am happy to not be American. I'm also happy to not be Ugandan. That's not how I define myself. A negative definition is no definition.
 |
| Negative Defintions: Useless. |
Sometimes this is a statement full of gratitude, usually when observing or learning of some tragedy, about how good life is within these state borders. Saying you're grateful to live where you are is pandering, whether intentional or not, to happenstance, or if you'd prefer, your god of choice. Again, it's different to say you're happy about it, but grateful? To whom? Did your parents make the tough decision between continuing to live where they did or moving to North Korea? Did they intend for you to have the (comparatively) privileged life that you do? No, they raised you as per the dictates of the society that you were both born in, which is why you even know those concepts.
What's more, saying you're grateful you were born here suggests there's someone or something to be grateful to which means that someone or something actively causes famine, flood, drought and disease elsewhere. That's SICK.
In essence, you have the causality mixed up. You don't live where you do because you are lucky, you feel lucky because you live where you do.
Canadian stereotypes are sometimes funny, sometimes annoying, but always cliché:
I don't like maple syrup. I don't like anything maple flavoured. Bite my ass.
I don't wear flannels because we've figured out how to make every garment made out of a certain material an ugly one. Great show, Canada.
I do drink Tim Horton's coffee sometimes (not at all exclusively), because I feel it has a good, harsh bite to the taste of it, it's cheap, and their machines get hotter than my own.I do enjoy hockey, but it's not a religion, because religions are stupid. With the season being locked out this year, I've realized how easily I can live without it.
I've never met a lumberjack.
We're not that nice. I meet more pricks than nice people, and I work with the public. All the biggest assholes I know were born and raised in Canada.
I do say "aboot." I'm taking the piss out of morons who think we actually say that.
Curling is stupid. It's not even a game like golf is a game, it's just doing housework unproductively.
Our free health care is good, but not great, and it will go down more because people don't understand the mechanics that a system of that magnitude requires and don't want to support it.
Similarly, our education is being Nerfed because of intellectual concessions we are making for the sake of political correctness that no one you'll ever talk to actually agrees with.
 |
| Bowl of snotty fries, anyone? |
Poutine is disgusting.
Classified is an awful rapper. He's boring and his songs suck, especially his pandering, heart-strings piece of garbage about this country. Drake sucks, too.
I don't hate Justin Beiber. I don't like him, but I don't hate him either. He's just there. I don't know how to define Canadian, but he's obviously not it.
And past any of those statements, you can't say anything about me. Am I a bad Canadian?
Let's be clear: I am not ashamed of the country to which I claim citizenship, I just think it's an arbitrary distinction.
American patriotism is an oft-lampooned topic, but I think it might actually make more sense than our own. You'll hear a lot of "America is the greatest country in the world" garble, but is that so wrong? Countries and their attributes are extremely hard to define, about as hard as it is to have a conversation with 315 million people, in this case. So why not just pull a line out of your cornhole and hammer it home at every opportunity you get? Nobody is reasoning anything anyway!It's especially weird to hear Anti-American definition in Windsor, Ontario. A large part of our economy and culture is overflow from Detroit, Michigan yet these same people are virulently anti-American in their self-definition. Those same people are hockey fanatics; (fair enough) and some of them are Detroit Red Wings fans. If you were to ask them why they are Wings fans, instead of Toronto Maple Leafs fans, you'll get one of three answers:
1.Detroit is closer.
2.There are just as many Canadian players on the American team anyway.
3.They had such and such childhood experience that engendered a love of the Wings in them (Dad was a Wings fan, loved Steve Yzerman, first hockey game was at the Joe, etc.).
So at some levels, some of the people who would fight you if you were to call them American have already done away with border lines. I am not saying there is something wrong with patriotism, I'm saying there is a lot wrong with unfounded patriotism, and the aspersions that it can cast.
We are in fact being dragged down by this kind of thinking, because it allows for mental sloth; "We're better than them, so we don't need to work at it." This has taken serious hold in the United States where the ratio of doctors and professors who are actually American compared to those who are foreign born is beginning to get pretty sad for a country so well equipped to lead the world.We need to be more realistic about our shortcomings, and then work at them, and stop letting politicians get away with wasting our time and money. Enlightenment knows no geographical borders. If we develop a national culture of work ethic and realism instead of inflated ego and flag waving, then the things we do under that maple leaf will be worth something.
Please leave a comment with your thoughts.
*Protest the Hero; Jack Whyte.
**Stephen Gaspar, in To Know Evil referred to the "Roman Emperor" during Hannibal's invasion through the Alps in the second century B.C. When Hannibal crossed the Alps, during the third century B.C, Rome was a republic; there was no emperor. This man is a teacher.
Thursday 14 February 2013
Retail Tales: Why the World is Falling Apart #3
Valentine's Day.
Do any other words send such a shudder down the spines of men?
Well, tampon, vasectomy and Twilight might do it.
Though it is probably rightly called a "greeting-card holiday," and the tradition of Valentine's is a pretty big load of hooey, it's actually not a twentieth century invention. The romantic connotations aren't as old as the saint for which they're named, but they do date back to Chaucer, which means they're over 600 years old. But it still doesn't make any sense. Aren't you supposed to love someone all the time? Didn't I buy you dinner last week? Am I not paying the electricity bill? You better love having lights in here!
Ever see the "Trash of the Titans" episode of The Simpsons that leads off with the new holiday "Love Day," made up to boost lagging sales in mid-spring? It makes a great point about popular opinion of Valentine's: we're still paying for Christmas you greedy pricks, piss off!
My stance is that I love my partner every day of the year, and I believe I express it often, and as such, Valentine's is sort of pointless. But, she is the sort of uber-thoughtful creature who is always looking for an excuse to do nice things for people, and I like, in turn, to do nice things for her. My mom always gets me some chocolate, because she's the sweetest and I like chocolate, and that's great. I also think that any celebration is usually a good excuse to celebrate, because enjoying life is healthy, but that's not what's happening here.
What throws me off is that I've noticed many, many girls and women saying they, too, think Valentine's is a cow-patty burger masquerading as a steak. Then they get angry when, after telling their man that it's silly and not to worry about it, they don't get anything.
Wha...?
Probably the single best explanation I've received for this puzzling phenomenon came from a former employee who was a few flowers short of a bouquet, and therefore a surprising source of wisdom. She told me that yes, most girls do feel it's a made-up, hogwash day, and that it's corny, and that they don't particularly care about flowers or cards (chocolate is different), BUT it hurts them to see other girls getting stuff, and being cared for, when they don't.
The girls who don't care about celebrating this day get jealous when they see other girls who don't care about celebrating this day, celebrating this day.
Well, whatever. It sort of makes sense. It's dumb and petty and lends zero credence to arguments against the stereotype that females are catty and jealous, but at least it's some kind of explanation.
(No one seems to have thought of the obvious fact that all holidays are made up. Can't quite piece that one together yet.)
So how, this time, is the retail world a barometer of such a seemingly hypocritical, fickle interpersonal mess?
A lot of comics remark on how simple men are, and as a very unsimple man I can only disagree, but you could do so many better things with your efforts. Spend that money on a steak, a package of bacon, a new hat, a pair of socks, a case of beer, a knife, a tomahawk ,a really big knife, a puppy, something relevant to him loving you or you loving him (in your chosen format), a pencil sharpener, a fart machine, a book, a bag of french fries, a season of My Little Pony on DVD, or his favourite liquor.
Do any other words send such a shudder down the spines of men?
Well, tampon, vasectomy and Twilight might do it.
Though it is probably rightly called a "greeting-card holiday," and the tradition of Valentine's is a pretty big load of hooey, it's actually not a twentieth century invention. The romantic connotations aren't as old as the saint for which they're named, but they do date back to Chaucer, which means they're over 600 years old. But it still doesn't make any sense. Aren't you supposed to love someone all the time? Didn't I buy you dinner last week? Am I not paying the electricity bill? You better love having lights in here!
Ever see the "Trash of the Titans" episode of The Simpsons that leads off with the new holiday "Love Day," made up to boost lagging sales in mid-spring? It makes a great point about popular opinion of Valentine's: we're still paying for Christmas you greedy pricks, piss off!My stance is that I love my partner every day of the year, and I believe I express it often, and as such, Valentine's is sort of pointless. But, she is the sort of uber-thoughtful creature who is always looking for an excuse to do nice things for people, and I like, in turn, to do nice things for her. My mom always gets me some chocolate, because she's the sweetest and I like chocolate, and that's great. I also think that any celebration is usually a good excuse to celebrate, because enjoying life is healthy, but that's not what's happening here.
What throws me off is that I've noticed many, many girls and women saying they, too, think Valentine's is a cow-patty burger masquerading as a steak. Then they get angry when, after telling their man that it's silly and not to worry about it, they don't get anything.
Wha...?
Probably the single best explanation I've received for this puzzling phenomenon came from a former employee who was a few flowers short of a bouquet, and therefore a surprising source of wisdom. She told me that yes, most girls do feel it's a made-up, hogwash day, and that it's corny, and that they don't particularly care about flowers or cards (chocolate is different), BUT it hurts them to see other girls getting stuff, and being cared for, when they don't.
The girls who don't care about celebrating this day get jealous when they see other girls who don't care about celebrating this day, celebrating this day.
Well, whatever. It sort of makes sense. It's dumb and petty and lends zero credence to arguments against the stereotype that females are catty and jealous, but at least it's some kind of explanation.
(No one seems to have thought of the obvious fact that all holidays are made up. Can't quite piece that one together yet.)
So how, this time, is the retail world a barometer of such a seemingly hypocritical, fickle interpersonal mess?
It's not.
I just wanted to point it out, because it chaps my ass.
 |
| No, you don't. |
The trend I noticed today at work was a bit different, and, I must admit, one I've never picked up on before. I could only scratch my head at how many times I was asked:
"You're a guy, do you think my boyfriend will like this balloon, or this one?"
"You're a guy, do you think my boyfriend will like this balloon, or this one?"
I...uhm. What?
Then I acted like I slipped and split my head open on the floor so I didn't have to answer. I'm begging you, please stop asking me these kinds of questions, I don't like lying.
This retail tale is about how the mind of many a young woman has obviously been twisted. Why in the world are you asking me this? Why in the world are you in here blowing upwards of 20-60 doll hairs on balloons? Who told you this is an acceptable, let alone good, gift? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
A lot of comics remark on how simple men are, and as a very unsimple man I can only disagree, but you could do so many better things with your efforts. Spend that money on a steak, a package of bacon, a new hat, a pair of socks, a case of beer, a knife, a tomahawk ,a really big knife, a puppy, something relevant to him loving you or you loving him (in your chosen format), a pencil sharpener, a fart machine, a book, a bag of french fries, a season of My Little Pony on DVD, or his favourite liquor.
Or don't spend money! Rub his back, laugh at his awful impressions, pretend like you care about Epic Meal Time or Call of Dudes.
But no.
Balloons...honestly.
Balloons...honestly.
Do you know this person at all?
Now, I try not to generalize, as it is entirely possible any given man may be thrilled about getting some floating rubber sacs of slightly differing colours. Still, I'm going to play the stereotype card (as a friend always reminds me, "It's quicker!") and say that these efforts are horribly, horribly misguided. Why, in the bloody buggering balls of Christ, would you think this is a good idea?
Today, the retail world confirmed one of my long held suspicions. All those sitcoms where men buy their partners gifts that they would like themselves were actually a way for women to shift blame for a practice they are in fact culpable of!
It is you, balloon-buying girlfriend or wife, who is the thoughtless one! It is you who doesn't understand your partner, it is you who does not listen! Take THAT, The View! Take THAT, comedy repertoire of syndicated television and second rate stand-up comics!
I entreat you again: please stop spending money on this garbage. Get creative; you'll both be much happier. Or, be really crazy; actually think about your partner and what they like, instead of what you've been programmed to think they want.
And Crappy Vilentine's, you goofy mouth-breathers.
God, I hate Epic Meal Time.
Wednesday 6 February 2013
For Your Consideration
For Your Consideration is a new segment wherein I provide just a tiny bit of information to pique your interest, and you can do the work researching/thinking about/lamenting/lauding said circumstance. By all means, leave a comment to tell me what you think.
This one is for my religious fans, all none of you.
Unlike other businesses that claim to help people, religions don't pay taxes. Personal trainers, psychiatrists, motivational speakers, nutritionists, doctors, therapists, and lots of other kinds of people who can demonstrably help people pay taxes, but religions don't pay taxes.
For reference, please consider the Ontario Ministry of Finance and Canada Revenue Agency.
16 And they sent out unto him their disciples with the Herodians, saying, Master, we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man: for thou regardest not the person of men.17 Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar, or not? 18 But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites?19 Shew me the tribute money. And they brought unto him a penny.20 And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription?21 They say unto him, Caesar's. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's.22 When they had heard these words, they marvelled, and left him, and went their way.
Jesus wants you to pay your taxes.
I'm talking to you, Kent Hovind (Young Earth Creation Science Evangelist currently incarcerated for multiple crimes including tax evasion).
This one is for my religious fans, all none of you.
ISSUE
Unlike other businesses that claim to help people, religions don't pay taxes. Personal trainers, psychiatrists, motivational speakers, nutritionists, doctors, therapists, and lots of other kinds of people who can demonstrably help people pay taxes, but religions don't pay taxes.
For reference, please consider the Ontario Ministry of Finance and Canada Revenue Agency.
CONTRA
From the King James Bible, Gosepl of Matthew, Ch.22
16 And they sent out unto him their disciples with the Herodians, saying, Master, we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man: for thou regardest not the person of men.17 Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar, or not? 18 But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites?19 Shew me the tribute money. And they brought unto him a penny.20 And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription?21 They say unto him, Caesar's. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's.22 When they had heard these words, they marvelled, and left him, and went their way.
Jesus wants you to pay your taxes.
I'm talking to you, Kent Hovind (Young Earth Creation Science Evangelist currently incarcerated for multiple crimes including tax evasion).
Apparently you have no idea what the Bible says.
Tuesday 22 January 2013
Retail Tales: Why the World is Falling Apart #2 - Dumb Questions
When you deal daily with the public at large, you realize perhaps there ought to be a test to pass for voting. Sometimes, when I can't fathom such unintelligence, I concoct back stories that make people not seem so bad. A lot of customers end up being elves from the North Pole or refugees from Darfur.
Because I am contractually obligated to grin like a goon and humour these round-headed cads and their inane inquiry, I am never able to respond how I'd really like to. So, for my own therapy more than anything, here are the dumbest questions, the answers I give, the thoughts in my head, and what I'd like to say.
Do you work here?
I say..."Sometimes, other times I just show up." or "Only when they make me."
I'm thinking... I can't wait until I don't have to say 'yes' to this! Sometimes people ask me this when I'm shopping in places I certainly do not work at, and it's so great to practice saying "No!" Or even better, to give them my best People's Eyebrow:
until the sheer force of my masculine facial muscles causes them to BTFO.
I'd like to say... (In a very cheery, bubbly voice) "Nooo, me and a bunch of friends just thought it would be a total larf to go into stores all dressed the same and act like we were putting things on shelves and operating cash registers! Isn't that hilarious and likely?!"
Twats.
[As a follow-up, after I've told them we don't carry the item they're looking for]
Do you know where I could find that item?
I say... "No, I'm sorry I don't." OR "I'm sorry, I only know what we have here."
I'm thinking... What psychic powers are these that would let me know the location of everything in the world that is not in our store? What could I do with such abilites? Find Kennedy's killer? Hoffa's body? Pirate treasure? I know they're just taking a shot that "Hey, maybe somebody here knows, it's related to what they sell," but it's not related. We sell what we sell, so I know about that stuff. And, I know this will come as a shocker, but we don't sell stuff that we don't sell.
I'd like to say..."Yes, we have all that information, we're just holding out on you because there is any reason for me to bother trying to confuse someone so obviously confused already. I'll tell you where your popcorn boxes are if you tell me what colour I'm thinking of. How does it feel?"
It was taupe, by the way.
Do you have a washroom?
I say... "Yes." No frills, I'm not going to volunteer our store thrones for your brat to sprinkle the seat or your aging mother to nuke the chamber. I know there's a follow up coming but I don't care. Shouldn't people have to say what they mean? Did you honestly suspect we didn't have a washroom?
I'm thinking... Is there ANYWHERE that does not have a washroom? When was the last time you were in any kind of functional building besides maybe a barn (which doesn't count, trust) that didn't have a washroom? Do you think us some kind of Phillistines? Does it smell that bad in here that this question is legitimate?
I'd like to say... "No." Now what?!
Doesn't that mean it's free?
I say... "No, I'm sorry, it doesn't." OR "Unfortunately not." And then I have to listen to an avalanche of grievances before they either huff out of the store or pay the extra 24 cents for the plastic forks.
I'm thinking... This usually comes from either a total misunderstanding of the Scanning Code of Practice or people who think Wal-Mart's rules apply to the world. Just please read a book. Oh please, oh please, won't you just read a book? Look something up before you blab on about it, or about your "rights" or "entitlement" (these are actual customers' words) to free stuff. In addition, my time is also not free. I'm going to start wearing a sign that says "Stupid Questions: $3.49." Nothing scares someone off like having to pay for something that used to be free.
I'd like to say... "Hey there's no price tag on your car, does that mean I can just take it? Bugger off, you cheap mouth-breather."
Can I return this? [almost always accompanied by an item that is beyond saving]
I say... "Noooo, I'm so sorry, it's our policy but I'm not allowed to take back anything that's been opened already. I really apologize for that but we can't take it."
I'm thinking... Why do people try this? Do they also bring back half-eaten bags of chips? Does this work anywhere? About 25 percent of the time the item is both appropriate to return and in good enough condition. Perhaps if we didn't take stuff like this back everywhere, people would think more about their decisions; perhaps a little permanence would be good for them!
I'd like to say... "There's a stain on this toga! Right there! It smells like booze, smoke, and poo! Do I look like a moron to you?!"
How much is this?
I say..."[Whatever the price is]."
I'm thinking...Well if my time is worth about $15.50 an hour, that stupid question was worth about a dollar, the actual item cost around 9 cents to make and the little Chinese girl working the injection mold was paid half a carrot, factor in shipping at a volume discount from overseas, then to our warehouse, then to our store, so the subtotal plus environmental cost puts that plastic whistle at ten billion dollars.
I'd like to say... "LOOK AT THE PRICE! IT'S RIGHT THERE ON THE SHELF, RIGHT WHERE YOU PICKED UP THE THING THAT YOU JUST SHOVED IN MY FACE TO BOTHER ME!"
Can I ask you a question?
I say... "Another one?" (The customer gets the joke about half the time.The other half they either look at me blankly or say "Oh, did I talk to you already?" which is, of course, another question, and it all goes pear-shaped if I say "Going for three, are ya?")
I'm thinking... You just demonstrated you could, were you proving this to me, or yourself? Why do we have to preface a question with a question? I file this one under unnecessary pleasantries, one of the things that drives me crazy about society in general; wasted words. What would you do if I said "no?" You already know I'm going to answer your question because it is my job to do so, let's not drag this out any longer than it needs.
I'd like to say... "Well, you got through that one, ironic though it may have unintentionally been. Let's take a chance that it didn't eat up your brain power for the day and go for broke!" OR "Didn't really give me an option there, did you?"
Are you sure?
I say... "Yes, I'm sure."
I'm thinking... This question pisses me off everywhere in life, as why would I say something if I weren't sure of it? Why would I answer your question thusly, just to have you on? Another question that is always wasted words. Why would I bother saying something to you that I'm not sure of? I'm paid to inform you and you aren't important enough to confuse. The best part is that customers usually ask this because they got an answer they didn't like and almost invariably go ask somebody else, who gives them the same answer.
I'd like to say... "No, I'm having a go at you!" OR "Yes, in fact so sure, I'd bet your screaming baby on it." OR "No, I'm pretty much guessing. Can I ask you a question?" OR "Yes, but you'd probably better go ask somebody else."
[After a customer walks in and I've said "Hello, how are you?"]
Good, how are you?
I say... [Nothing]. I don't even answer. That's how stupid this question is: the person who asks it knows it's stupid and doesn't even bother to pursue the inquiry. I have not once had someone say "No, really, how are you?" or wait for me to answer; they immediately go about their consuming, because that's what's important.
I'm thinking... I don't even think about it anymore. This is a pointless question because you don't care how I am, and you shouldn't, you don't know me. I have to care how you are because if you're in a bad mood you might ruin my day, or my store, or complain I was discourteous but the whole point is, just don't ask. Your mood is important to our transaction, mine is not. Save the oxygen, we'll need it.
I'd like to say... "Well, times are tight - I could use a raise but whatcha gonna do, you know?. My dog's got it coming out both ends and I'm a bit gassy myself, probably the beans last night and coffee this morning. My knees are aching with the cold, but I still can't stop sweating, I feel like I should have an armpit diaper. Do you find it hot in here? Thanks for asking!"
Jesus.
And now for something completely different: one of my dogs with his head stuck in the bars of his crate!
Because I am contractually obligated to grin like a goon and humour these round-headed cads and their inane inquiry, I am never able to respond how I'd really like to. So, for my own therapy more than anything, here are the dumbest questions, the answers I give, the thoughts in my head, and what I'd like to say.
Do you work here?
I say..."Sometimes, other times I just show up." or "Only when they make me."
I'm thinking... I can't wait until I don't have to say 'yes' to this! Sometimes people ask me this when I'm shopping in places I certainly do not work at, and it's so great to practice saying "No!" Or even better, to give them my best People's Eyebrow:
I'd like to say... (In a very cheery, bubbly voice) "Nooo, me and a bunch of friends just thought it would be a total larf to go into stores all dressed the same and act like we were putting things on shelves and operating cash registers! Isn't that hilarious and likely?!"
Twats.
[As a follow-up, after I've told them we don't carry the item they're looking for]
Do you know where I could find that item?
I say... "No, I'm sorry I don't." OR "I'm sorry, I only know what we have here."
I'm thinking... What psychic powers are these that would let me know the location of everything in the world that is not in our store? What could I do with such abilites? Find Kennedy's killer? Hoffa's body? Pirate treasure? I know they're just taking a shot that "Hey, maybe somebody here knows, it's related to what they sell," but it's not related. We sell what we sell, so I know about that stuff. And, I know this will come as a shocker, but we don't sell stuff that we don't sell.
I'd like to say..."Yes, we have all that information, we're just holding out on you because there is any reason for me to bother trying to confuse someone so obviously confused already. I'll tell you where your popcorn boxes are if you tell me what colour I'm thinking of. How does it feel?"
It was taupe, by the way.
Do you have a washroom?
I say... "Yes." No frills, I'm not going to volunteer our store thrones for your brat to sprinkle the seat or your aging mother to nuke the chamber. I know there's a follow up coming but I don't care. Shouldn't people have to say what they mean? Did you honestly suspect we didn't have a washroom?
I'm thinking... Is there ANYWHERE that does not have a washroom? When was the last time you were in any kind of functional building besides maybe a barn (which doesn't count, trust) that didn't have a washroom? Do you think us some kind of Phillistines? Does it smell that bad in here that this question is legitimate?
I'd like to say... "No." Now what?!
"Do you have a washroom?" A good question on an Indian railway, perhaps.
 |
| Source: Maclean's |
Doesn't that mean it's free?
I say... "No, I'm sorry, it doesn't." OR "Unfortunately not." And then I have to listen to an avalanche of grievances before they either huff out of the store or pay the extra 24 cents for the plastic forks.
I'm thinking... This usually comes from either a total misunderstanding of the Scanning Code of Practice or people who think Wal-Mart's rules apply to the world. Just please read a book. Oh please, oh please, won't you just read a book? Look something up before you blab on about it, or about your "rights" or "entitlement" (these are actual customers' words) to free stuff. In addition, my time is also not free. I'm going to start wearing a sign that says "Stupid Questions: $3.49." Nothing scares someone off like having to pay for something that used to be free.
I'd like to say... "Hey there's no price tag on your car, does that mean I can just take it? Bugger off, you cheap mouth-breather."
Can I return this? [almost always accompanied by an item that is beyond saving]
I say... "Noooo, I'm so sorry, it's our policy but I'm not allowed to take back anything that's been opened already. I really apologize for that but we can't take it."
I'm thinking... Why do people try this? Do they also bring back half-eaten bags of chips? Does this work anywhere? About 25 percent of the time the item is both appropriate to return and in good enough condition. Perhaps if we didn't take stuff like this back everywhere, people would think more about their decisions; perhaps a little permanence would be good for them!
I'd like to say... "There's a stain on this toga! Right there! It smells like booze, smoke, and poo! Do I look like a moron to you?!"
Can I return this?
How much is this?
I say..."[Whatever the price is]."
I'm thinking...Well if my time is worth about $15.50 an hour, that stupid question was worth about a dollar, the actual item cost around 9 cents to make and the little Chinese girl working the injection mold was paid half a carrot, factor in shipping at a volume discount from overseas, then to our warehouse, then to our store, so the subtotal plus environmental cost puts that plastic whistle at ten billion dollars.
I'd like to say... "LOOK AT THE PRICE! IT'S RIGHT THERE ON THE SHELF, RIGHT WHERE YOU PICKED UP THE THING THAT YOU JUST SHOVED IN MY FACE TO BOTHER ME!"
Can I ask you a question?
I say... "Another one?" (The customer gets the joke about half the time.The other half they either look at me blankly or say "Oh, did I talk to you already?" which is, of course, another question, and it all goes pear-shaped if I say "Going for three, are ya?")
I'm thinking... You just demonstrated you could, were you proving this to me, or yourself? Why do we have to preface a question with a question? I file this one under unnecessary pleasantries, one of the things that drives me crazy about society in general; wasted words. What would you do if I said "no?" You already know I'm going to answer your question because it is my job to do so, let's not drag this out any longer than it needs.
I'd like to say... "Well, you got through that one, ironic though it may have unintentionally been. Let's take a chance that it didn't eat up your brain power for the day and go for broke!" OR "Didn't really give me an option there, did you?"
"Can I ask a question?" - The original facepalm.
Are you sure?
I say... "Yes, I'm sure."
I'm thinking... This question pisses me off everywhere in life, as why would I say something if I weren't sure of it? Why would I answer your question thusly, just to have you on? Another question that is always wasted words. Why would I bother saying something to you that I'm not sure of? I'm paid to inform you and you aren't important enough to confuse. The best part is that customers usually ask this because they got an answer they didn't like and almost invariably go ask somebody else, who gives them the same answer.
I'd like to say... "No, I'm having a go at you!" OR "Yes, in fact so sure, I'd bet your screaming baby on it." OR "No, I'm pretty much guessing. Can I ask you a question?" OR "Yes, but you'd probably better go ask somebody else."
[After a customer walks in and I've said "Hello, how are you?"]
Good, how are you?
I say... [Nothing]. I don't even answer. That's how stupid this question is: the person who asks it knows it's stupid and doesn't even bother to pursue the inquiry. I have not once had someone say "No, really, how are you?" or wait for me to answer; they immediately go about their consuming, because that's what's important.
I'm thinking... I don't even think about it anymore. This is a pointless question because you don't care how I am, and you shouldn't, you don't know me. I have to care how you are because if you're in a bad mood you might ruin my day, or my store, or complain I was discourteous but the whole point is, just don't ask. Your mood is important to our transaction, mine is not. Save the oxygen, we'll need it.
I'd like to say... "Well, times are tight - I could use a raise but whatcha gonna do, you know?. My dog's got it coming out both ends and I'm a bit gassy myself, probably the beans last night and coffee this morning. My knees are aching with the cold, but I still can't stop sweating, I feel like I should have an armpit diaper. Do you find it hot in here? Thanks for asking!"
Jesus.
And now for something completely different: one of my dogs with his head stuck in the bars of his crate!
KEVIN!
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