OK, goobers! You're all in luck, because I have an absolute buttload of fantastic bullshit stories to tell. Now that's not bullshit as in "made up events", but rather bullshit in the sense of "holy shit! did that really just happen? What the FUCK is wrong with people these days?!" I shared the first story with a few people already, but here it is to satiate the rest of yall's primitive needs.
So firstly of all -- last Friday I was waiting for the bus on the grimy ass Ave as I often do. Now the good ol' 74 is a pretty pleasant ride most of the time -- the drivers are nice, the number of schizo kooks is usually fairly low, and it passes by this bizzaro, off-the-beaten-path convenience store where there is usually a pretty girl smoking outside and looking generally forlorn. BUT -- Friday the 8th was DIFFERENT! The driver was grumpy from the get-go. I had to actually ask for a transfer -- which isn't a big deal really, but I've never had to ask before. The thing is, the driver wouldn't even look at me -- as if I had killed his pets or something. Whatever. Grumpy driver. I'll just sit down and mind my own business. BUT THEN....
A few stops later, a quite elderly man in a wheelchair boards the bus. While stopped, the helpful (and by helpful, I mean crabs-ridden) driver SLAMS the folding seat out of the way to accomodate this poor guy. Now this guy in the wheelchair is proabably like nine hundred years old or something and has had like 5 dozen strokes and well, can't really move or talk at all. Basically he can manuver his wheelchair and THAT'S IT. And the bus driver just starts strapping him in like he's a piece of furniture! You know what I mean? Cranky McShitasspants is basically roughing up this old guy for no reason other than -- OK, I 've got nothing....THERE IS NO REASON. Whatever. Bus Driver is pissed because....who knows? I go back to looking out the window and thinking about how the next PS2 Contra is going to kick so much ass that it really isn't even funny. BUT THEN......
A few stops later, the old guy needs to get off the bus. It's his stop, folks! But he's led a hard life and is in a wheelchair and can't move or talk! So he does what any decent fellow who can't move or talk would do....starts grunting loudly! You see, he can't pull the stop rope -- so he's got no choice but to grunt as loud as he can! Meanwhile, another rider has already pulled the rope so the bus driver stops -- turns around in his seat -- and YELLS at the man:
"DO YOU WANNA GET OFF OR NOT?"
The man nods (sort of). The bus driver STOMPS toward him and very hastily unfastens the seatbelts securing the old dude's wheelchair. The driver then THROWS the seatbelt toward the floor -- ass enough move as is -- but the high-speed seatbelt CATCHES on the folding seat and BOUNCES off of it, STRIKING the elderly man across the chest. A few inches higher, and it would have smacked him right in the face. Before anyone can respond, the driver is already back in his seat preparing the lift. The man in the wheelchair departs.
BUT THEN!!!!!
Fast forward a bit...and suddenly...it's MY stop! Joy! I pull the stop rope and ready myself to leave. So the driver starts to pull over, but at the last second....DECIDES NOT TO! The red "STOP" light blinks off and suddenly we're back on the road, roaring ahead at full speed. At this point, this prime example of dinksmanship hardly surprises me, so as annoyed as I am, I pull the rope again. This time, the driver actually stops so I stand up (oh wait, I was already standing up since the PREVIOUS stop was mine) and stand by the back door, waiting for the driver to open it. After a good seven seconds or so (which is a pretty long time to wait for a freakin' bus door ) , Captain Dipshittery glares at me like I pooped in his mailbox or something and opens the door. Man, what a ride....
Just as I'm taking the last step off the bus, I feel the door close around my left ankle. I lose my balance and fall to the ground, banging my elbow something fierce in the process. Fortunately, my foot comes with me when I fall, because no sooner am I on the ground when the bus tears away from the stop, leaving me in its wake of monumental cockbuckettry (neologism courtesy of lum).
AAAANNNNNNDDDDD......it was raining that day. Three extra blocks in the rain for me. Needless to say, I reported that douchebag savant the next day and prayed for hours that his genetalia would turn to haggis.
So that was fun.
Now I've also got a great tale about not one, but two different completely deranged people. First there's crazy customer, and then we've got -- that old familiar -- my mental co-worker (you know, the "I only date supermodels" guy who's never had a date and thinks he's gonna make a film that isn't going to be the absolutely worst film ever made and used to work for Starbucks so as a result can't make a latte to save his worthless butt and has a hideous underbite and always wears daffodill yellow shirts -- that guy). Let's refer to him as "KWIEEPH"
My dear co-worker Jennifer is not only an absolutely outstanding barista, customer serivce genius, and innuendo-maker extraordinaire, but is also an incredibly warm and caring person, whose smile WILL IMPROVE YOUR DAY -- even if you had bloody diarrhea 37 times before breakfast. Scene: It's Tuesday the 12th -- about 6:30 in the evening. I'm running the register, while Jen (who rules) is making coffee. Crazy customer comes to counter.
Cosyne says:
"Hey, how are you doing today?"
Crazy says:
"Oh, well I want to kill myself, but somehow I'm still alive. What can you do, right? Anyway, I'd like a bathtub full of latte. Decaf. And made with heavy whipping cream instead of milk." -- the whole suicide thing aside, he orders it that way every single time and every single time, he thinks it is the MOST GODDAMNED CLEVER thing ever. Now Jen, being the gregarious soul she is, strikes up a conversation with this gent, who immediately remarks:
"My my don't you have nice posture?"
creeeeeepy....but Jen takes it in stride, as always. She smiles and curtsies and goes back to making (ho ho) the "bathtub full of latte". But then he says:
"Daddy probably put you on the catwalk when you were seven didn't he?"
Jen pretends not to hear, while I try to snap this guy out of his psycho fit by taking his money. As I'm ringing him up, he whispers to me the following charming question while leering grossly at my co-worker:
"How do you get through each day and not just jam it up that anus?"
In retrospect, I'm kicking myself like you wouldn't believe because I didn't throw that fucking freak out of my store. Instead, I went into this whole Eternal Darkness/Is this really happening? sort of mode -- and basically just warned him that next time he'd be booted off the premises (Arrrrggg...next time!)
Ugh. Yuck.
So, Jen got off work shortly thereafter and because of the yuckiness that ensued, I gave her a big hug (remember that, because it's gonna be important later in the story). Taking her place for the evening was...you guessed it....(cue sad-sounding trombones)....Kwieeph!!! So, I slogged through a torturous six hour shift -- just the two of us -- me and Kwieeph as best I could. I secretly apologized to customers for the poopfarty coffee they were getting when he went out back to wash dishes or something. I tried not to cry when Kwieeph would say "Hey! What AWESOME beverage can we get for you tonight?" Awesome. Yeah.
So after the store is closed and I'm counting down the till, he says to me: "Just to let you know, I was not OK with you hugging Jen earlier. That made me really uncomfortable."
The best part is I don't need to write anymore about this because we are all thinking the same thing:
WTF!!??
So that was fun.
Why are people so strange?
So firstly of all -- last Friday I was waiting for the bus on the grimy ass Ave as I often do. Now the good ol' 74 is a pretty pleasant ride most of the time -- the drivers are nice, the number of schizo kooks is usually fairly low, and it passes by this bizzaro, off-the-beaten-path convenience store where there is usually a pretty girl smoking outside and looking generally forlorn. BUT -- Friday the 8th was DIFFERENT! The driver was grumpy from the get-go. I had to actually ask for a transfer -- which isn't a big deal really, but I've never had to ask before. The thing is, the driver wouldn't even look at me -- as if I had killed his pets or something. Whatever. Grumpy driver. I'll just sit down and mind my own business. BUT THEN....
A few stops later, a quite elderly man in a wheelchair boards the bus. While stopped, the helpful (and by helpful, I mean crabs-ridden) driver SLAMS the folding seat out of the way to accomodate this poor guy. Now this guy in the wheelchair is proabably like nine hundred years old or something and has had like 5 dozen strokes and well, can't really move or talk at all. Basically he can manuver his wheelchair and THAT'S IT. And the bus driver just starts strapping him in like he's a piece of furniture! You know what I mean? Cranky McShitasspants is basically roughing up this old guy for no reason other than -- OK, I 've got nothing....THERE IS NO REASON. Whatever. Bus Driver is pissed because....who knows? I go back to looking out the window and thinking about how the next PS2 Contra is going to kick so much ass that it really isn't even funny. BUT THEN......
A few stops later, the old guy needs to get off the bus. It's his stop, folks! But he's led a hard life and is in a wheelchair and can't move or talk! So he does what any decent fellow who can't move or talk would do....starts grunting loudly! You see, he can't pull the stop rope -- so he's got no choice but to grunt as loud as he can! Meanwhile, another rider has already pulled the rope so the bus driver stops -- turns around in his seat -- and YELLS at the man:
"DO YOU WANNA GET OFF OR NOT?"
The man nods (sort of). The bus driver STOMPS toward him and very hastily unfastens the seatbelts securing the old dude's wheelchair. The driver then THROWS the seatbelt toward the floor -- ass enough move as is -- but the high-speed seatbelt CATCHES on the folding seat and BOUNCES off of it, STRIKING the elderly man across the chest. A few inches higher, and it would have smacked him right in the face. Before anyone can respond, the driver is already back in his seat preparing the lift. The man in the wheelchair departs.
BUT THEN!!!!!
Fast forward a bit...and suddenly...it's MY stop! Joy! I pull the stop rope and ready myself to leave. So the driver starts to pull over, but at the last second....DECIDES NOT TO! The red "STOP" light blinks off and suddenly we're back on the road, roaring ahead at full speed. At this point, this prime example of dinksmanship hardly surprises me, so as annoyed as I am, I pull the rope again. This time, the driver actually stops so I stand up (oh wait, I was already standing up since the PREVIOUS stop was mine) and stand by the back door, waiting for the driver to open it. After a good seven seconds or so (which is a pretty long time to wait for a freakin' bus door ) , Captain Dipshittery glares at me like I pooped in his mailbox or something and opens the door. Man, what a ride....
Just as I'm taking the last step off the bus, I feel the door close around my left ankle. I lose my balance and fall to the ground, banging my elbow something fierce in the process. Fortunately, my foot comes with me when I fall, because no sooner am I on the ground when the bus tears away from the stop, leaving me in its wake of monumental cockbuckettry (neologism courtesy of lum).
AAAANNNNNNDDDDD......it was raining that day. Three extra blocks in the rain for me. Needless to say, I reported that douchebag savant the next day and prayed for hours that his genetalia would turn to haggis.
So that was fun.
Now I've also got a great tale about not one, but two different completely deranged people. First there's crazy customer, and then we've got -- that old familiar -- my mental co-worker (you know, the "I only date supermodels" guy who's never had a date and thinks he's gonna make a film that isn't going to be the absolutely worst film ever made and used to work for Starbucks so as a result can't make a latte to save his worthless butt and has a hideous underbite and always wears daffodill yellow shirts -- that guy). Let's refer to him as "KWIEEPH"
My dear co-worker Jennifer is not only an absolutely outstanding barista, customer serivce genius, and innuendo-maker extraordinaire, but is also an incredibly warm and caring person, whose smile WILL IMPROVE YOUR DAY -- even if you had bloody diarrhea 37 times before breakfast. Scene: It's Tuesday the 12th -- about 6:30 in the evening. I'm running the register, while Jen (who rules) is making coffee. Crazy customer comes to counter.
Cosyne says:
"Hey, how are you doing today?"
Crazy says:
"Oh, well I want to kill myself, but somehow I'm still alive. What can you do, right? Anyway, I'd like a bathtub full of latte. Decaf. And made with heavy whipping cream instead of milk." -- the whole suicide thing aside, he orders it that way every single time and every single time, he thinks it is the MOST GODDAMNED CLEVER thing ever. Now Jen, being the gregarious soul she is, strikes up a conversation with this gent, who immediately remarks:
"My my don't you have nice posture?"
creeeeeepy....but Jen takes it in stride, as always. She smiles and curtsies and goes back to making (ho ho) the "bathtub full of latte". But then he says:
"Daddy probably put you on the catwalk when you were seven didn't he?"
Jen pretends not to hear, while I try to snap this guy out of his psycho fit by taking his money. As I'm ringing him up, he whispers to me the following charming question while leering grossly at my co-worker:
"How do you get through each day and not just jam it up that anus?"
In retrospect, I'm kicking myself like you wouldn't believe because I didn't throw that fucking freak out of my store. Instead, I went into this whole Eternal Darkness/Is this really happening? sort of mode -- and basically just warned him that next time he'd be booted off the premises (Arrrrggg...next time!)
Ugh. Yuck.
So, Jen got off work shortly thereafter and because of the yuckiness that ensued, I gave her a big hug (remember that, because it's gonna be important later in the story). Taking her place for the evening was...you guessed it....(cue sad-sounding trombones)....Kwieeph!!! So, I slogged through a torturous six hour shift -- just the two of us -- me and Kwieeph as best I could. I secretly apologized to customers for the poopfarty coffee they were getting when he went out back to wash dishes or something. I tried not to cry when Kwieeph would say "Hey! What AWESOME beverage can we get for you tonight?" Awesome. Yeah.
So after the store is closed and I'm counting down the till, he says to me: "Just to let you know, I was not OK with you hugging Jen earlier. That made me really uncomfortable."
The best part is I don't need to write anymore about this because we are all thinking the same thing:
WTF!!??
So that was fun.
Why are people so strange?
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
it_thing_hard_on:
If you work in a small company it's likely that there is no entity known as corporate. But on the other hand, it's not entirely unlikely that they won't assign goals to you, either.
desdenova:
Was that actually a picture of the homeless guy?