Every time I pass this viaduct….
I say to myself “If I ever become homeless this is where I’m going to live…right here. Right in this viaduct. I’d put some blankets down there….”
Tag Archives: Personal Space
If I Were a Postal Employee
14 Sep
I don’t think he’d be smiling if he knew what he was picking up!?!
If I were a postal employee I would be outraged by this.
If they only knew.
Or do they know?
Have we really gotten this busy?
As a full-time working mom I for one appreciate the convenience. I doubt that the post office does.
Why, you ask? What are they delivering?
They are delivering my shit.
I’m not even joking.
I recently had a physical. I’ve been having some tummy troubles, and I haven’t quite been able to figure out what to attribute it to.
- I’ve tried eliminating dairy (didn’t work)
- I quit drinking pop three months ago
- My doctor thinks it might be anxiety-related
- My stepmom thinks I eat too many raisins
- My friend thinks I’m allergic to gluten
- I actually think I might drink too much coffee
So what gives? Why do I suddenly have diarrhea on an almost daily basis? My doctor wanted to get to the bottom of it. He asked me to give a poo sample. You can imagine how comfortable I was discussing my diarrhea issues with my 60+ male physician. Well, I guess it wasn’t that bad in all honestly, I mean, I’m telling you all right?
He says that he wants me to submit a poo sample, and that I can even mail it in. (Selling point?)
What the heck?
I nodded my head as he shook my hand and said the nurse would be back with prescriptions, my blood test order and the poo pack.
Sure enough the nurse comes into the office and hands me a small cardboard box.
“You can mail this with five stamps,” She tells me. “Or you can drop it off here.”
Drop it off here? Does she think I have nothing better to do but complete my 8 ½ hour shift at work, pick up my kid, go home and make dinner, do laundry, get us all ready for the next day, i.e., pack bags, lunch, pick out outfits, etc. and that I can just make a leisurely stop at the doctor’s office (completely out of my way) to deliver my sample?
I do appreciate this convenience. I love this convenience. Five stamps, 10 stamps, I don’t care! Whatever it takes to not have to drive back to the doctor’s office.
But then I found myself having all sorts of questions, overanalyzing if you will….do the mail people know that they are picking up people’s poop? Will I tell my mail lady at work – who I talk to everyday – that she is picking up my poop?
“Well, hello there, Cindy….please be sure to be extra careful with that cardboard box. It has my shit in it. And by the way, thank you sooooo much. You’re sure making my life a lot easier by delivering my poop to my doc!”
A. W. K. W. A. R. D.
But, I actually worried that I might say that.
Luckily the day I mailed my poop she had a sub. Phew, I wasn’t going to tell the tatted dude who came in that he was picking up my crap. I simply smiled and said hello. But in my head I was all….omg, omg, that poor man has no idea that he is picking up my poo! And then I giggled.
Soooo immature.
If I don’t worry about the postal employees then am I all good here?
Because I think I actually may have scarred my 2-year-old while taking on this task. On a Saturday afternoon after drinking a large Dunkin Donuts iced coffee I was all – OK time to do this.
Git r done….I’m hearing that hillbilly guy’s voice. I despise this saying btw.
I grabbed the cardboard box and opened it to read the instructions.
Seems easy enough.
It’s not.
My first turd completely rolled off the piece of paper and plopped in the toilet. I started screaming. My husband ran into the bathroom carrying the Chiquita. “What is going on?”
The Chiquita is eyeing the piece of paper like wtf. She’s no dummy. She knows her mom’s a bit of a whack job.
“I can’t go #2 on a piece of paper. This is insane!”
“Well, you have to! Suck it up!”
Then does he leave? No! He stands there. Holding the Chiquita. While I attempt again to go to the bathroom on a piece of paper. This is messed up.
The Chiquita is seriously like wtf. (Poor kid)
OK, deed is done!
Now to “pierce” it. Yes, that’s what you have to do. This is why I’m not in the medical field, because are you serious right now? This is MINE and I’m completely grossed out. I can’t even imagine if it were someone else’s.
I’m standing there (naked) trying to pierce the poop sample, and I start gagging. Like major gagging. Like dry-heaving I’m going to throw up in a second gagging. I’m screaming, “I’m going to throw up!!!!!!!!!! I can’t do this!”
Husband is laughing.
The Chiquita is screaming, “Poop! Poop! Poop, Mommy, poop! Poop! Paper! Mommy, Poop, Paper.”
For two days following this “event” when the Chiquita would walk by the bathroom she would say: “Poop! Mommy Poop, Paper.”
So, I ask you this. Are we really too busy to give poop samples like we used to?
Let’s Talk Bathroom Etiquette…Repepepepepeat
5 AprHere is another fan favorite I’d like to share from back in the day. This post tends to get a lot of hits from Google searches for “toilet stalls” and “public bathrooms”.
I’d also like to share that I do now wear a seatbelt – after receiving my 2nd seatbelt violation I decided to just start wearing the damn thing – and I also now use a seat cover on the toilet. Even though it takes an extra second to put down I decided I’d rather take the two minutes then get crabs from a toilet seat. 
I hope you enjoy it and learn some bathroom etiquette!
Photo courtesy of Yahoo Photos
I know all my bathroom talk is frank – and probably pretty gross – but the fact of the matter is we all go to the bathroom and at some time in our lives we will all be forced to use a public bathroom. Nothing is more annoying than people lacking proper etiquette in this shared space.
For men, you just walk in, whip it out and do your biz in the urinal…obviously God is a man. But, for ladies, this is a bit more of a production.
I work in an office building with a shared public bathroom for all employees in the building. I know some of the ladies from other offices, but others, even though I’ve seen them around I don’t “know” them. This is because they won’t say hello or even acknowledge my presence in the bathroom. WTF? I realize we’re in a bathroom, but when you walk in and I’m washing my hands why can’t you say hello?
This one lady – she makes the effort to look at me every time. And then she gives me a dirty look! It pisses me off! But, I take solace in the fact that not only am I cuter than her, but I’m obviously much nicer as well…
Some other issues I have:
The Tortoise and the Hare – These people drive me INSANE. These are the people that time their bathroom breaks like they are running a marathon. They literally marathon pee – they pee in a minute tops. I’ve never seen anything like it. What is your hurry? I guess I pee more like the Tortoise. I take my time…slow and steady. These people that come in and pee ridiculously fast actually give me anxiety. I don’t want to have to pop a Xanax every time I go to the bathroom because you’re in some crazy race with yourself to be the quickest pee-er in my office building. Congratulations! You took a piss in 49 seconds flat. It’s a new Olympic record.
These speedy pee-ers also cause a ripple effect of other etiquette issues. Let me proceed.
The Sloppy Pee-er – Because you are in such a hurry to pee and exit, you ultimately end up leaving your pee droplets on the toilet seat. This makes me throw up in my mouth every time I walk into the toilet stall. I need to do a thorough inspection of the toilet seat before I can even sit down. I’m amazed at the number of women that can’t seem to handle getting their pee inside the toilet, as opposed to on the seat. Gross, isn’t that what men do? Let’s say most of us in this building are 30-40 years old. We’ve had substantial practice with this; we should be pros by now.
Which brings me to…
The Leave Behind – These people have done one good thing. They’ve managed to not pee on the toilet seat. But, that is because they added two seconds to their marathon time by putting down the paper seat cover. Now I have mixed feelings about the seat cover. I understand its purpose. And it does serve a good purpose. However, it’s just not for me. It makes me uncomfortable. Sort of like a seat belt. It’s there for a good reason – to protect. But, when I wear my seat belt I just end up feeling uncomfortable, I can’t settle in right, my driving is off. That’s exactly how I feel when I sit on a paper toilet seat cover. Then every time I move it crinkles….and then the pee makes a funny sound when it hits the center piece you push through…let’s not even discuss if you have to go #2…
I know, I know! I should wear my seat belt, and I should use a seat cover. But, I don’t. Sue me.
Someone once said to me, “You’re such an anal person it really surprises me that you don’t use the seat cover.”
Yeah, it makes sense. I am one hell of a Type A organized freak, but I don’t know, maybe I’m not as high maintenance as you all think. I can drink beer and burp with the boys!
And, let me say, I fully support those of you that choose to use a seat cover. It is actually more beneficial to me if you use one. So use away…my beef lies solely with those people that in their race to be the fastest pee-er in the building they end up flushing and running (the Flush ‘n’ Run) so quickly that they either a.) don’t notice that the paper cover didn’t go down or b.) they simply don’t care that it didn’t go down.
So, now, when I go into the stall there sits your protective paper cover. Now how is it protecting me if I have to touch your paper cover to flush it down the toilet? Not to mention, sorry, but the thought of putting it in the toilet and then pee-ing on it just grosses me out. (See above, I’m simply not comfortable with that.)
The Sloppy Seconds – These are the people that think just because they are in a public bathroom they don’t need to keep it tidy. They splash water all over the sink, countertop and mirror. They leave toilet paper bunches on the floor. They put on make-up and spill pressed powder all over the countertop and just leave it. They leave long strands of hair on the vanity. They dump out food/drink items in the sink and don’t bother to run the water…which is especially crucial if they dump soup or cereal. There sits the left-over floaties in the sink. I’ve also seen feminine products ON THE FLOOR, and once, I’m not even joking, a needle?!? (We called maintenance in case you’re wondering.) We all know how annoying it can be to clean up after the man in our lives who splashes water every where with no regard for who cleans up after him (one of the Oompa Loompas?) Not to mention hair shavings, which he leaves, splattered about the sink…but that’s another post.
This is not a port-a-potty; this is an f’ing office bathroom. Pretend it is your bathroom and keep it clean! And if you are sloppy, you at least get an A++ for washing your hands. If you’ve ever been in the stall and heard someone leave and not wash their hands (in my case it’s always one of the Flush ‘n’ Runners) you sit and wonder who in the hell that person was? How many hands will they be touching the rest of the day? Could they have forgotten to wash or do they wash at their desk with hand sanitizer – which does NOT cut it.
The Pooper – Obviously at some time in your life you are going to have to go #2 in a public restroom. It’s inevitable – especially in my situation working in an office building with a shared public bathroom for 9 hours/day. I have sympathy for the poopers. But, Poopers, try to have sympathy for those around you. We understand its life and it needs to be done, but very simply DO A COURTESY FLUSH!
The courtesy flush was a suggested add-in by my friend. I’m personally not a huge fan of the courtesy flush. I know where she is coming from, however, doing a courtesy flush on a commercial toilet is just no fun. These toilets are built to flush down bricks!!! The massive amounts of water racing through the toilet bowl inevitably ends up on your ass. You are doing a courtesy flush to be considerate to those other bathroom patrons, but at the same time, you end up hurting yourself! Sorry, I’m selfish. I would rather you smell my stinky poop than have my feces splashing up on my back side. That’s just how I feel about it.
The Space Cadet – Almost as annoying as the Tortoise and the Hare is the Space Cadet pee-er. This special pee-er is truly a joy to be around normally. They are the happy-go-lucky person that always says “Good morning” and always has a smile on their face. But, they are also the annoying person who comes into the bathroom singing and/or whistling every day. My bathroom breaks are my precious personal time during my work day. As I said above, I like to take my time. I like to sit and relax. I do some of my best thinking while on the toilet. I’ve even been known to pray while on the porcelain throne. I realize this may sound odd to some people, but the bathroom is normally a place of solace. It is the one place you can go and be by yourself with your own thoughts – except in public. So, when the happy-go-lucky pee-er comes into the bathroom singing and whistling as I am deep in my own thoughts I feel disrupted. I don’t like to be disrupted while I’m doing my business. This also gives me anxiety. The bathroom is supposed to be a peaceful place. Let’s keep it that way.
The Hanger-Outer – Well, I’m definitely the Hanger-Outer. I like to take my time. I kind of slither in…I pick my stall…I am in no hurry to do my business. I like to sit there for a second and relish in my own thoughts. Now, I have two points with the Hanger-Outer. One thing that annoys me as the Hanger-Outer is when the Flush ‘n’ Runners come in and go even faster because they think I’m the Pooper. No. Just reeeelllaaaaxxx. I can sit in the bathroom and take a time out. It doesn’t mean I’m taking a dump! It’s simply a little “me” time.
But, on the other hand, one of the most annoying pee-ers is the Hanger-Outer. Luckily I have bathroom etiquette so I don’t break the “rules.” The issue with the Hanger-Outer is they never leave. They hang out. They want to blow their nose, check their make-up, brush their teeth, have phone conversations (No, I don’t do that)…which is all fine and dandy, unless you have the Pooper in a stall waiting to do their biz. They’re likely to get a little stage fright if you’re in there just hanging around. In that case, run the water and do your primping as fast as possible. Then get out so the Pooper can poop in peace!
And lastly…
The Almost in my Stall – The Almost in my Stall pee-er is by far the WORST of all of the above offenders!!! You know this person. This is the person that walks into a bathroom and sees 20 empty stalls but still – for some reason unbeknownst to any of us – chooses to enter the stall right next to you.
What the f*ck are you doing?
I will never EVER understand why this pee-er feels the need to pee right next to me? Or worse yet poop? Please understand, I like you. I will say hi to you and talk to you. But, please respect my privacy. Please do not sit in the stall next to me. This offense actually angers me. When I’m sitting in the stall having my “me” time and someone walks in and comes into the stall next to me, you completely distract my attention and you actually raise my blood pressure. Do you want to be responsible for my future heart attack? I start thinking, “What is this person doing?” “Why must this person sit next to me?” “What is this person’s problem?” “Does this person have no bathroom etiquette?” If you’re going to break a rule, I would not choose this one. In my research I find that this is everyone’s MOST annoying offense. Which makes me wonder who is actually committing this faux pas? Hmm…
As with my other posts, I feel the need to be a concerned citizen and to clarify the appropriate bathroom rules. Please respect them so we can all have a more enjoyable experience when using a public restroom.
And P.S., NONE of these rules apply when you are at a venue – like a Cubs game – in that case, it’s every man and woman for themselves!
Why I Hate People…
11 Jan
Sunday. I’m all excited. I head to Caribou to edit my book, Concrete Boots. I’ve had a dream of doing this. Of Caribou someday being “my office.” I wake up in the morning and instead of going to work I go to Caribou. And I write. For a living.
So even though this is still a dream at this point, and Caribou is not my office, and it is rather Sunday and not Monday, I head to Caribou.
I have my pink Dell laptop, my manuscript, a red pen, and myself; donned in black yoga pants and a grey and white striped V-neck sweater from Express. My hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and my make-up is done lightly – appropriately – for a weekend at eight in the morning.
I kiss my husband and my baby good-bye, and I head off …. To write…to edit…to be. Ahhhh this is heaven, I think. I feel very Carrie Bradshaw.
- Image courtesy of HBO & http://www.geekculture.com
I arrive at Caribou and it’s empty, besides two others, and I order a large non-fat mocha. I select my seat and start to take out my writing items. I’m smiling. I’m happy.
Sipping my non-fat mocha I start to read over manuscript notes from my two awesome cousins, Tami and Lucy, as well as my own notes, to put it all together to finally perfect this masterpiece.
I’m on a roll…chapter one down…and into chapter two and making some progress.
And now it’s 10 o’clock. And busy. And loud. And so not peaceful. I’m distracted.
I’m looking around. Where am I sitting? I’m in the bum corner. I’m sitting amongst the bums. They are scruffy and dirty with backpacks. And they stink. And they are loud. How did I not notice this?
Well, I did notice the bum family come inside because they were screaming at each other. A man, a woman and a son, maybe like 20 or 30, who had to have been on something. He looked wasted. The man sits down at a table near me and loudly insists he MUST sit by himself. I’m pretty sure he was looking at porn on his laptop. Yes, I forgot to mention, this bum had a laptop! Crazy world we live in! Maybe he’s a classy bum?
So, the woman (his wife?) sits with me. I was sitting at a large table, just taking up one side, because it was near the outlet. She didn’t bother me much; she just drank her coffee and did her own thing. Every time she’d try to go over by the man he would start screaming at her, and I would look up.
“Get away from me, woman! What are you doing over here?” He yelled. This is why I was pretty sure he was looking at porn. The son, sitting there but not looking at the computer, would laugh with his cashed eyes.
Wtf is with these people? I thought. I felt bad for the lady. I wanted to tell the laptop bum to shut the fuck up and leave her alone. But I tried to mind my own business.
So, I keep getting distracted by said bums, as well as other bums, who must have Caribou in Downers Grove on their list of hang outs on chilly Sunday mornings.
Now, I’m not a snob, well, maybe I am, but I’m sorry, I don’t want to sit and edit my book amongst a bunch of bums – or people really – and here’s why.
I’m sitting at the large table editing, and suddenly I have to poop. SHIT! – quite literally – lol – What am I going to do? I think.
Obviously I would take my Juicy Couture bag into the bathroom, but what do I do with my pink laptop? What do I do with my manuscript? Do I pack everything up and take it in the bathroom with me? Surely someone will take my spot! Oh the dilemma.
Can I possibly ask someone to watch my belongings? I look around. At the bums. They would sell my lap top for a forty of Miller Lite I’m sure. FUCK, I think, I REALLY HAVE TO GO POOP.
Like I can’t even concentrate at this point.
I text my hubby who says, “Don’t you dare leave your stuff.”
Deep breath. What the fuck am I supposed to do? I want to keep working for another hour so I guess I’m going to have to hold it. This sucks. What happened to the days of good and normal people??? People you could trust? Can you trust no one anymore?
Frustrated (and with a tummy ache) I get back to editing. And then another bum comes in.
And you know what – tangent here – don’t anyone comment to me telling me how bums are people, too, and the poor bums, or how the bums need some place to go….I know all this. I empathize with the bums, as I’m just a pink slip away from being a bum. But, if I were a bum, I wouldn’t spend my Sunday sitting at Caribou looking at porn on a laptop while I yell at my (possible) wife! But, that’s just me, what do I know? Further, I would be a classy bum. I’d be the only bum I know carrying a Juicy Couture bag! Hmm…maybe I would sit at Caribou and look at porn? What else is there to do?
But, back to my story. So, this other bum comes in. Caribou is now packed. I’m sure there are non-bums all over, but I like I said, for some reason I sat in the bum section. She stops in front of me and says, “Is someone sitting there?”
Against my better judgment, I say, “Nope, you can sit down.”
Where does she sit? I’m not even joking, right on top of me. She’s literally breathing in my face. Crazy bum lady is wearing orange sweatpants with stains and a blue sweatshirt. She has a black stocking hat on her head. She pulls her hat off and her hair sticks straight up at the ceiling.
Don’t judge others, I think. But, it’s her breathing on me that really bugs me, not how she looks like a crazed maniac.
Then she starts coughing. Repeatedly. ON ME.
Then she starts reading. OUT LOUD.
What the fuck is with this woman? I think. I really want to beat her ass, and I’m quite sure I can take her. Who does this? Seriously. Who. Does. This? I almost feel like she’s doing this on purpose. She’s trying to drive me away! No way is she driving me out of there! Fuck that crazy bum lady.
But, seriously. Who sits down at a local coffee shop, on top of someone else, breathes all over them, coughs all over them and completely disturbs them by reading their newspaper out loud? She didn’t even order a coffee! You don’t even want to know what happened next.
THE BUM WIFE GOT UP AND WENT TO SIT WITH THE CLASSY LAPTOP BUM HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m not even joking. My only bum friend left me – alone – with crazy bum lady with her hair sticking up at the ceiling and coughing all over my pink laptop, and even worse, ME.
The bum husband yells at his wife again. “Woman! Get out of here!” (See, he had to be looking at porn, right?)
She yells – seriously yells – “I had to move. That lady over there is coughing all over me.” She points at crazy bum lady.
Crazy bum lady laughs.
The crazy bum lady looks at me. “I like your sweater,” she says.
Am I like on TV? Am I being punked? I wonder.
A minute later she says to me, “I like your ring.”
What is this? Why am I being harassed at Caribou on Sunday morning while I’m trying to live out my Carrie Bradshaw dream? Why God, why?
I finally resign to the fact that I’m being driven out of Caribou by this crazed maniac bum. But, whatever, bums or not bums, they’re people. And damn are people fucking annoying.
Pardon Me…Do You Have Any Grey Poupon?
18 Nov
Photo courtesy of http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/17067009
I hope you’re ready for a good old fashioned Jlee rant. It’s been too long. AND, yet again, I have to explain etiquette to the “someone’s” of the world who just don’t seem to get it. I don’t get what they don’t get? It’s not difficult. You learned this in kindergarten, folks. Or maybe you didn’t?
It’s called manners.
The world today ceases to exist without the formalities of “please” and “thank you.” Personally, I find this to be completely unacceptable, but you can’t force niceties on people. Apparently I was the only person who was excused from the table without dinner if I said, “Pass the salt,” instead of “Please pass the salt.” Go to bed hungry a couple times, and I guarantee you won’t forget “please” and “thank you” even in your adult years. But, I digress.
Side note, you know how when you’re a kid you swear that you will never ever do anything the way your parents did? You’ll raise your kids differently, you say. Well, it’s funny how things change when you’re the one shaping a new person’s identity; when you’re the parent. I can assure you that my daughter will say please and thank you or she will be leaving the table without dinner. Check back in about 30 years when she has her own blog about all the horrible things her parents did to her….
Back to manners.
I have exceptional manners. And I’m not bragging here, I’m just being honest. I’m almost overly polite. People get annoyed because I’ll say “thank you” about 5 times in my morning Dunkin Donuts visits along with always saying “I’d like an iced coffee please.” {Note the please at the end of the sentence.}
I say thank you so much that I’m the person saying “thank you” for no reason at all. Someone calls me for a favor, and I will respond “No problem, I’ll get that taken care of. Thank you.”
Thank you for what? For calling me and asking me to do something for you? WTF?
But it’s a habit for me now. And besides, I like saying please and thank you. I like being polite. But apparently not everyone else does….
Lacking as much as please and thank you these days is “excuse me.” No one says “excuse me” anymore. I don’t get it? People will bump into you, step on your foot or almost down right knock you to the ground, and they still won’t utter an excuse me.
This annoys me. This drives me f’ing crazy actually.
I love the person who stands on top of you in line at Jewel. Then they bump into you. They say nothing. Then they bump into you again. Still nothing. I want to turn around and punch this person.
For one, back off man. I don’t need to feel your breath on my neck. I actually have a saying I picked up from the movie Dirty Dancing. “This is my dance space – and this is yours.” That means GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY PERSONAL SPACE!
Number two, you are bumping into me. Don’t you feel it? If I feel it, I’m sure you feel it. You know you just bumped into me. Why do you not say excuse me?
And yes, I am the one who will cut someone off in traffic. I do realize this is equally as rude, but I guess I sort of feel protected by my car. It is as if my car serves as some sort of a buffer for manners…not just for me but for many drivers. That is why people are so rude to one another in traffic. You’re not actually face-to-face so you can act like an a-hole without facing the person one-on-one. It’s kind of a chicken shit thing to do if you think about it, but I suppose I am actually a chicken shit sometimes even though I act like I’m sooo tough.
In fact, that is why I am writing this blog. Yesterday at work this woman who works in my building almost walked right into me. Our shoulders touched as she walked by me. I moved slightly to the right trying to bypass her as I gave her a smile. She completely ignored my smile, stared at me with her snarled face (you’d think I killed her cat or something?), and then continued to walk down the center of the hallway.
Um….excuse me? Am I invisible to you? Do you see me here? If I didn’t move to the right did she think she could just walk right through me? Or was she just going to tackle me like Walter Payton and step over me as I lay on my back in the hallway? Please knock me down next time, Bitch, because Mama needs a new car! Now I’m being facetious.
Why exactly do people do this? I mean not get the fuck out of the way. Why must they insist on not moving over when someone is walking towards them?!? I’m not saying you have to completely move out of the way, but just step to the side. You know, move over.
Another object people will use as a buffer is a shopping cart. I can’t tell you how many times at Walmart someone has tried to run me over with their God damn shopping cart. Whether you have a cart or not the other person doesn’t care. They WILL hit you with their cart.
One time at Walmart some years back someone was about to hit me with their cart. No shit, I grabbed the cart and shook it vigorously as I yelled, “Excuse me?!?” And then the person looks at me like I’M the crazy one?
This was back in my psycho days though. And now? Now I’m still crazy, but I’d rather just write a blog bitching about how stupid other people are. And I don’t need that kind of confrontation in my life anymore. And I don’t shop at Walmart anymore.
Just remembering the incident has actually raised my blood pressure. I get too emotional. I get angry. Why don’t people understand how rude they are being? Why don’t people get it? Am I the only one with any common sense?
I love the people that expect me to move when I’m pushing my baby in her stroller on the sidewalk. You are walking by – you can’t move over a foot? An inch? You walk straight at me? What am I going to do, run someone over with my Graco stroller? Maybe I actually would if my 4 month old baby wasn’t sitting inside. So, now I’m the one pushing my stroller through the grass while you walk down the middle of the sidewalk without so much as even muttering a “hello” as you push by me. The nerve.
People don’t care if you’re with an old person either. My grandma, yes my Grandma Bonnie of Bonnie’s Braves, well, she’s not old. She’s only 69. But, because she has Alzheimer’s Disease she has reverted slightly back to her child-like days. Roles are now reversed and it’s as if I am the parent and she is the child. Like that isn’t stressful enough, but now I’m trying to walk my grandma through a Blain’s Farm & Fleet. Yeah, I was at Blain’s Farm & Fleet; please don’t go there, it’s embarrassing enough for me. Anyways, could you imagine what my Italian Papa would do to me if I lost my grandma in Farm & Fleet? Good lord.
Now my grandma (love her to death) is walking through Farm & Fleet like a five-year-old where she’s gotta touch everything. She says, “Isn’t this cute?” about everything. I don’t have the heart to tell her, “Grandma, we’re at Farm & Fleet. Nothing here is cute.” So I smile and nod all while keeping an eye on her and trying to get us in and out of this store as quickly as possible and all in one piece.
Well, I’ll be damned, someone practically runs my grandma over. Sure she’s wondering around aimlessly. But she’s an old lady! Cut her some slack man. Oh how I’d wished my aunt was with us. I didn’t have it in me to start a fight with this woman, but my aunt sure would have. It didn’t matter though because my grandma sure did. The lady was down the aisle a ways when my grandma turned to me and loudly said, “What in the hell is she in such a hurry for? I outta cold cock her…”
Cold cock…isn’t that saying hilarious? That’s my grandma’s favorite saying. She always talks about how she’s going to “cold cock” someone. She says it to my papa, too. He’ll say, “Bonnie, you need to take your medicine.”
She’ll look at me and say, “Yeah, he thinks he’s the boss of me. He ain’t the boss of me. I outta cold cock him.”
My grandma isn’t Italian for the record. Or big. She’s this tiny five foot tall Irish lady. She cracks me up. And you guys think my bad temper comes solely from my Italian blood. HA!
But, now I went off another tangent.
In closing, remember your “please” and “thank you’s.” Remember your “excuse me’s” because you never know who’s behind you and you may just get cold cocked by my grandma.
Click here if you want to watch the old commercial: {The Grey Poupon commercial}
Let’s Talk Bathroom Etiquette…
9 AprPhoto courtesy of Yahoo Photos
I know all my bathroom talk is frank – and probably pretty gross – but the fact of the matter is we all go to the bathroom and at some time in our lives we will all be forced to use a public bathroom. Nothing is more annoying than people lacking proper etiquette in this shared space.
For men, you just walk in, whip it out and do your biz in the urinal…obviously God is a man. But, for ladies, this is a bit more of a production.
I work in an office building with a shared public bathroom for all employees in the building. I know some of the ladies from other offices, but others, even though I’ve seen them around I don’t “know” them. This is because they won’t say hello or even acknowledge my presence in the bathroom. WTF? I realize we’re in a bathroom, but when you walk in and I’m washing my hands why can’t you say hello?
This one lady – she makes the effort to look at me every time. And then she gives me a dirty look! It pisses me off! But, I take solace in the fact that not only am I cuter than her, but I’m obviously much nicer as well…
Some other issues I have:
The Tortoise and the Hare – These people drive me INSANE. These are the people that time their bathroom breaks like they are running a marathon. They literally marathon pee – they pee in a minute tops. I’ve never seen anything like it. What is your hurry? I guess I pee more like the Tortoise. I take my time…slow and steady. These people that come in and pee ridiculously fast actually give me anxiety. I don’t want to have to pop a Xanax every time I go to the bathroom because you’re in some crazy race with yourself to be the quickest pee-er in my office building. Congratulations! You took a piss in 49 seconds flat. It’s a new Olympic record.
These speedy pee-ers also cause a ripple effect of other etiquette issues. Let me proceed.
The Sloppy Pee-er – Because you are in such a hurry to pee and exit, you ultimately end up leaving your pee droplets on the toilet seat. This makes me throw up in my mouth every time I walk into the toilet stall. I need to do a thorough inspection of the toilet seat before I can even sit down. I’m amazed at the number of women that can’t seem to handle getting their pee inside the toilet, as opposed to on the seat. Gross, isn’t that what men do? Let’s say most of us in this building are 30-40 years old. We’ve had substantial practice with this; we should be pros by now.
Which brings me to…
The Leave Behind – These people have done one good thing. They’ve managed to not pee on the toilet seat. But, that is because they added two seconds to their marathon time by putting down the paper seat cover. Now I have mixed feelings about the seat cover. I understand its purpose. And it does serve a good purpose. However, it’s just not for me. It makes me uncomfortable. Sort of like a seat belt. It’s there for a good reason – to protect. But, when I wear my seat belt I just end up feeling uncomfortable, I can’t settle in right, my driving is off. That’s exactly how I feel when I sit on a paper toilet seat cover. Then every time I move it crinkles….and then the pee makes a funny sound when it hits the center piece you push through…let’s not even discuss if you have to go #2…
I know, I know! I should wear my seat belt, and I should use a seat cover. But, I don’t. Sue me.
Someone once said to me, “You’re such an anal person it really surprises me that you don’t use the seat cover.”
Yeah, it makes sense. I am one hell of a Type A organized freak, but I don’t know, maybe I’m not as high maintenance as you all think. I can drink beer and burp with the boys!
And, let me say, I fully support those of you that choose to use a seat cover. It is actually more beneficial to me if you use one. So use away…my beef lies solely with those people that in their race to be the fastest pee-er in the building they end up flushing and running (the Flush ‘n’ Run) so quickly that they either a.) don’t notice that the paper cover didn’t go down or b.) they simply don’t care that it didn’t go down.
So, now, when I go into the stall there sits your protective paper cover. Now how is it protecting me if I have to touch your paper cover to flush it down the toilet? Not to mention, sorry, but the thought of putting it in the toilet and then pee-ing on it just grosses me out. (See above, I’m simply not comfortable with that.)
The Sloppy Seconds – These are the people that think just because they are in a public bathroom they don’t need to keep it tidy. They splash water all over the sink, countertop and mirror. They leave toilet paper bunches on the floor. They put on make-up and spill pressed powder all over the countertop and just leave it. They leave long strands of hair on the vanity. They dump out food/drink items in the sink and don’t bother to run the water…which is especially crucial if they dump soup or cereal. There sits the left-over floaties in the sink. I’ve also seen feminine products ON THE FLOOR, and once, I’m not even joking, a needle?!? (We called maintenance in case you’re wondering.) We all know how annoying it can be to clean up after the man in our lives who splashes water every where with no regard for who cleans up after him (one of the Oompa Loompas?) Not to mention hair shavings, which he leaves, splattered about the sink…but that’s another post.
This is not a port-a-potty; this is an f’ing office bathroom. Pretend it is your bathroom and keep it clean! And if you are sloppy, you at least get an A++ for washing your hands. If you’ve ever been in the stall and heard someone leave and not wash their hands (in my case it’s always one of the Flush ‘n’ Runners) you sit and wonder who in the hell that person was? How many hands will they be touching the rest of the day? Could they have forgotten to wash or do they wash at their desk with hand sanitizer – which does NOT cut it.
The Pooper – Obviously at some time in your life you are going to have to go #2 in a public restroom. It’s inevitable – especially in my situation working in an office building with a shared public bathroom for 9 hours/day. I have sympathy for the poopers. But, Poopers, try to have sympathy for those around you. We understand its life and it needs to be done, but very simply DO A COURTESY FLUSH!
The courtesy flush was a suggested add-in by my friend. I’m personally not a huge fan of the courtesy flush. I know where she is coming from, however, doing a courtesy flush on a commercial toilet is just no fun. These toilets are built to flush down bricks!!! The massive amounts of water racing through the toilet bowl inevitably ends up on your ass. You are doing a courtesy flush to be considerate to those other bathroom patrons, but at the same time, you end up hurting yourself! Sorry, I’m selfish. I would rather you smell my stinky poop than have my feces splashing up on my back side. That’s just how I feel about it.
The Space Cadet – Almost as annoying as the Tortoise and the Hare is the Space Cadet pee-er. This special pee-er is truly a joy to be around normally. They are the happy-go-lucky person that always says “Good morning” and always has a smile on their face. But, they are also the annoying person who comes into the bathroom singing and/or whistling every day. My bathroom breaks are my precious personal time during my work day. As I said above, I like to take my time. I like to sit and relax. I do some of my best thinking while on the toilet. I’ve even been known to pray while on the porcelain throne. I realize this may sound odd to some people, but the bathroom is normally a place of solace. It is the one place you can go and be by yourself with your own thoughts – except in public. So, when the happy-go-lucky pee-er comes into the bathroom singing and whistling as I am deep in my own thoughts I feel disrupted. I don’t like to be disrupted while I’m doing my business. This also gives me anxiety. The bathroom is supposed to be a peaceful place. Let’s keep it that way.
The Hanger-Outer – Well, I’m definitely the Hanger-Outer. I like to take my time. I kind of slither in…I pick my stall…I am in no hurry to do my business. I like to sit there for a second and relish in my own thoughts. Now, I have two points with the Hanger-Outer. One thing that annoys me as the Hanger-Outer is when the Flush ‘n’ Runners come in and go even faster because they think I’m the Pooper. No. Just reeeelllaaaaxxx. I can sit in the bathroom and take a time out. It doesn’t mean I’m taking a dump! It’s simply a little “me” time.
But, on the other hand, one of the most annoying pee-ers is the Hanger-Outer. Luckily I have bathroom etiquette so I don’t break the “rules.” The issue with the Hanger-Outer is they never leave. They hang out. They want to blow their nose, check their make-up, brush their teeth, have phone conversations (No, I don’t do that)…which is all fine and dandy, unless you have the Pooper in a stall waiting to do their biz. They’re likely to get a little stage fright if you’re in there just hanging around. In that case, run the water and do your primping as fast as possible. Then get out so the Pooper can poop in peace!
And lastly…
The Almost in my Stall – The Almost in my Stall pee-er is by far the WORST of all of the above offenders!!! You know this person. This is the person that walks into a bathroom and sees 20 empty stalls but still – for some reason unbeknownst to any of us – chooses to enter the stall right next to you.
What the f*ck are you doing?
I will never EVER understand why this pee-er feels the need to pee right next to me? Or worse yet poop? Please understand, I like you. I will say hi to you and talk to you. But, please respect my privacy. Please do not sit in the stall next to me. This offense actually angers me. When I’m sitting in the stall having my “me” time and someone walks in and comes into the stall next to me, you completely distract my attention and you actually raise my blood pressure. Do you want to be responsible for my future heart attack? I start thinking, “What is this person doing?” “Why must this person sit next to me?” “What is this person’s problem?” “Does this person have no bathroom etiquette?” If you’re going to break a rule, I would not choose this one. In my research I find that this is everyone’s MOST annoying offense. Which makes me wonder who is actually committing this faux pas? Hmm…
As with my other posts, I feel the need to be a concerned citizen and to clarify the appropriate bathroom rules. Please respect them so we can all have a more enjoyable experience when using a public restroom.
And P.S., NONE of these rules apply when you are at a venue – like a Cubs game – in that case, it’s every man and woman for themselves!
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