It's Driving Me Mad, It's Driving Me MAD!

I hate driving. Loathe, despise, abhor, pick a word. I hate driving to work every morning because, I kid you not, there's ALWAYS at least one person that runs a red light. I don't even live that far from work, maybe 2.5 miles, but like clockwork, every day there's someone out there being an idiot. I swear one of these days I'm going to die in my car on my way to work, and then I'm going to come back and haunt whatever idiot ran me over.

People that drive really slow piss me off too, especially little old people that can't drive more than 20mph in the middle of July, on a sunny day, at noon. Are there any better driving conditions than that? Because if there are, I've never seen them. I have nothing against the elderly, except for their awful driving. If you can't keep up with traffic, and you can't see over the dang steering wheel, maybe it's time you think about retiring your license. I will never forget the day I was driving to work, back before I moved, when I still lived with my parents, and some little old lady in a HUGE boat of a Cadillac pulled out of a driveway into a space the size of a postage stamp between my car and a car in front of me. I almost didn't have time to stomp on the breaks and she very nearly got rear-ended. I couldn't even honk at her because all I could do was stare and pray that I wasn't going to get creamed. I've never yet owned a vehicle equipped with a cloaking device, because I'm pretty obviously not a Romulan (or is it Klingon? I can't remember and I'm too lazy to check), so I don't understand how people don't see me coming. But I guess that's where seeing over the steering wheel comes in handy. *shrug*

And what is with people that are completely incapable of using their turn signal? I'm not a friggin mind reader, buttwipe. Unless you would like to get rear-ended, USE YOUR BLINKER! And while you're at it, don't you even think about pulling out right in front of me, because if you think I won't give you an earful of my horn, you'd be wrong. Alright, maybe sometimes I forget to honk, but sometimes I forget my horn isn't in the middle of the steering wheel and then I'm just pounding on it like a moron while it makes no noise. Derp! It makes me insane that even the cops around here don't use their blinkers. They're not OPTIONAL on your car, they're standard, so I know you have them. Just because your job is to enforce the law, that doesn't mean you are therefore above the law, you poophead. I say that with the utmost respect, but honestly...when you got your badge did you forget how to operate a vehicle?

I'm completely aware that I just sound like a complainey b-i-you-know-what right now but I don't even care. This all makes me so irate...I'm never going to be allowed to drive with my Nephew when he learns how to repeat words because I know I'll probably end up shouting something inappropriate at yet another moron driver. Or maybe I'll get lucky and be more like Linda from "Bob's Burgers" and just scream "OUT OF THE WAY, JENNIFER SLOW-PEZ!!"

Honestly.

Sincerely,

Smart Girl

Just...don't talk unless I ask you a question, okay?

I'm not an idiot. I'm hoping you've already figured that out, but just in case, let me reiterate: I'm not an idiot. I don't claim to be the next Einstein, and I'm no Stephen Hawking, but I manage. That being said, there's almost NOTHING that pisses me off more than people that just assume I'm stupid without having anything to base that claim on.

In case you didn't read my last post, or in case this is your first time here, I work in a pharmacy. I have to deal with people that are ACTUALLY stupid every single day, and it hurts. I swear on everything chocolate that it physically hurts not being able to say the things that roll around in my head every time I'm dealing with a particularly difficult customer. Given the collective intelligence level of the entire town is about equal to a bowl of oatmeal, difficult customers are pretty much the only customers. I have no doubts that every once in a while it's not just the customer and it's me as well, but usually, usually, it's just the customer.

Back to my first point. I don't like when people assume I've got no idea what I'm doing. I'm not new to this job. I've been working in the pharmacy for about two years now, and although I do sometimes have to ask questions I think after two years I've got the hang of most of it. I absolutely loathe people that think that just because they don't see me all the time when they come in to pick up their prescriptions that I MUST be new, and therefore I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. Last week I had 4 different people ask me if I was new. All 4 of them were fairly regular customers, and I wait on them all the time. Are you KIDDING ME? I talked to you three days ago! I knew your name when you came up to the counter! No, I'm definitely not new.

I'm also incredibly bad with names. I can remember faces, but for whatever reason there are customers who I recognize but always, always, have to ask for a name. A few weeks ago one lady came up to the counter, looked at me, and said "Well you know who I am. I need to pick up my prescriptions". Um. Suuuuuuuure. Of course I had to ask her for name, because although I knew I'd seen her before I couldn't think of her name to save my life. After I asked her name, instead of just answering me, she got a little snotty and asked me if I was new. She didn't really seem to like my answer of "Nope, I've been here for a year!". Sorry to deflate your little bubble, honey, but just because you think you're the shit doesn't mean I'm gonna remember your name. I wait on probably hundreds of people every single week; there's no way on this earth I will ever be able to remember all of their names. There are certain people whose names I will never forget, but it's usually because of something bad like the lady that, quite literally, screamed at me once. I will remember who she is for the rest of my life.

It also pisses me off to no end when there's a problem with some part of someone's prescription, and as I'm trying to explain the problem, they lean around me and shout for the pharmacist. I'm not lying to you about your drugs, okay? Lying about it will get me absolutely nothing, except maybe fired, so there's absolutely no point in telling you anything but the truth. I don't deny that my coworkers can explain things better at times, because I'm terrible at explanations. I know what I'm talking about, but that doesn't always mean I can make you understand it too. However, just because someone else can make you understand doesn't mean they're telling you any different information than I told you. They're just better at making it brain-able for idiots like you.

And then we have the people that start talking to you before you've even realized they're at the counter. Shouting your name at me as I walk over to wait on you gets you nowhere. Give me a second to sign into the computer, and THEN you can tell me who you are. And for the record, please stop spelling your name at me if I didn't ask you to. If I can spell 'prestidigitation' without needing a dictionary I think I can handle your 4-letter last name. Spelling your name at me doesn't make you any more important or fancy just because YOU can't spell it. Same thing goes for the people that won't even say what their name is, they only spell it at you. For example, if your last name is Jones, instead of saying "Jones" you say "JAY-OH-EN-EE-ESS" all in one breath and as fast as humanly possible. Just...just don't, alright?

Two more things, and then I promise I'll be done whining.

1) If you have to call your pharmacy, please do the person answering the phone a favor and start off with your name. Don't go into a five-minute-long speech about how you're expecting X prescription from Y doctor and you want to know if it's ready, and if not how long will it be, and did they call in X prescription for 30 days or for 90, and did the insurance pay for that or is that the cash price, and you really want to make sure that Y doctor called it in and not W doctor that you're not seeing anymore, because you haven't seen W doctor in almost 6 months, and how much was it going to be through your insurance again? I promise you after that first four words nobody is listening to you anymore and they're spending the entire time you're prattling on wondering if you're going to shut up long enough to get a word in edgewise because they have no idea who you are to even look up your information to answer your questions. I can't even tell you how many times I'm on the phone with someone for several minutes before I get a chance to even ask who I'm talking to.

2) If your pharmacy has an outside pick-up window, either a walk-up or a drive-up, if the weather is cold, don't use it. When it's 5 degrees outside and you choose to use the walk-up window, I don't feel sorry for you when you whine that you're freezing. No shit, Sherlock, it's 5 degrees outside! Come INSIDE and get your stuff, moron. I will not be rushed while I'm releasing your medications just because you chose to stand outside, in Michigan, in the middle of winter. Same goes for when it's 100 degrees outside and you chose to stand outside in the blazing hot sun at noon and then realize it's hot outside. *sigh*

In the words of the ever-immortal Chandler Bing from 'Friends': "BAH!!"

Sincerely,

Smart Girl.

Yeah. Let me just give you drugs for free.

I work in a pharmacy. For the most part I enjoy my job, but some days...some days people make me want to beat my head against the counter. Somewhere, at some point in your life, you've probably encountered people like this at your own jobs. Maybe you were a cashier that cringed when you saw a regular customer with a history of bad attitude standing in your line. Maybe you were a waiter that hated getting stuck with the table that never tipped no matter how polite you were. We all deal with these people. Throw drugs into the mix, though, and it just seems to amp up the bad attitudes by about 300%.

Next time you end up at a pharmacy, allow me to give you some tips to make your visit go as smoothly as possible and so you don't end up as one of "THOSE PEOPLE".

1) Do NOT, whatever you do, DO NOT throw things at the person at the drop-off window. Even without saying a single word, you've just presented yourself as a giant asshole, and nobody likes assholes. I don't care if it's a pen or the paper your prescription is on, don't even think about flinging it across the counter.

2) Don't argue with us when we tell you how long the wait is. I'm a reasonable, intelligent person, and I know that if you have to wait 20 minutes for your cholesterol medication you're not going to be in any danger of sudden death. The more you argue and whine that you have to wait 30 minutes because you just gave me 8 prescriptions to process, the more I'm tempted to add extra time just because of your attitude. (for the record, I would never actually do that, but MAN would I like to...)

3) When your insurance company decides to hike up your co-pays for reasons that God is LITERALLY the only one that knows, and I suggest you give your insurance a call, it's not my way of getting rid of you. It's my way of telling you that I don't work for your insurance and I have no way of knowing the answers to your incredibly rude game of 20 Questions.

4) This goes along with #3 in a way, because, surprisingly, we at the pharmacy are not in control of the co-pays on your medications. If you think the price is too high, take it up with your insurance company, because there's diddly squat I can do about it. The amount of complaining you do does nothing to change that.

5) Don't lie. Just don't. Lying will not get you that Morphine that you claim you so desperately need, nor will we believe that you're really buying that Sudafed, or those needles, for your poor, sick grandmother. We work in a pharmacy, guys. We deal with people like you all day long, and we aren't stupid.

6) Chances are good that your doctor's handwriting is going to be entirely illegible. If you hand your prescription to me and I can't read it, don't bother getting pissed off at me when I say I'll have to call the office to have them clarify it for me. I'm not going to just guess at what it says. If the doctor had written it correctly in the first place, we wouldn't have a problem. Yell at your doctor, not at me, and while you're at it, tell him have the nurse write out the prescription the next time because the nurses tend to write things out properly and they don't write with their feet, upside down, in the dark, blindfolded.

7) Doctor's offices are busy, hectic places. They don't always get things done when they would like to, or even when they say they will. If you're expecting a prescription, and you check in with us to see if we've received it, and we say no, we're not lying just to mess with you. Really. None of us enjoy you calling back 12  times in one afternoon to check.

8) Prescriptions aren't good forever. They expire. It makes no difference if your prescription expired six months ago but your bottle says you have 8 refills left. It's expired. Expired means "to cease to be valid, typically after a fixed period of time". Straight from the dictionary, guys. No longer valid. That means no, I can't give you anything, even if you ask me 50 times and swear that you didn't realize it had expired.

9) If you're going to come up to my counter and take up my time, get the hell off your cell phone. Hang up, and give me your full attention. I feel like this is just common sense, but around here, common sense is pretty much kaput. 

Really, all these hints can be summed up in about four words: Don't. Be. A. Jerk.

Use this information wisely.

Sincerely,

Smart Girl

Sweet, sweet justice. A.K.A, Karma is my best friend today.

I don't normally think of myself as someone that laughs at other people's misfortune. Sure, if you trip over the rug and fall on your face, I'll probably laugh at you, but only after I've checked to make sure you're not seriously injured and/or bleeding. I try to look out for other people, and for the most part I feel like I succeed, but sometimes...sometimes all I can do is point and laugh and thank karma for making the rounds.

Take, for example, the countless morons in this town that simply cannot comprehend the function of a sidewalk. We've touched on this topic before, but since it's such an epidemic around here it's worth hitting on again. Today it's been raining most of the morning, and everything is wet. There's puddles in the street, on the sidewalk, and I do feel sort of bad for the people that have to walk around/through them, either by choice or because they don't have a ride.

That being said, I do NOT, not now, not ever, not even going to think about it for a second, feel bad for the people that walk in the middle of the puddle-filled road and then proceed to curse out the cars that pass by them and splash them with water from said puddles. I'm sorry, but if you're too much of a moron to get out of the damn street you deserve to have a mud shower, even more so if you're a prissy, snobby, tight-jeans-tucked-into-suede-boots-wearing disgrace to the female kind. If you insist on hiking around in the rain in your hooker boots, maybe you should attempt to walk where there's a lesser chance of getting them wet. Or better yet, don't wear them at all, because they're hideous and even if you're not a hooker they certainly make you look like one.

And before you get upset at me for what I just said, let me remind you that this girl was, by her own volition, the one walking in the street, where cars have the right-of-way, and pedestrians really shouldn't be gallivanting about, especially around here where everybody speeds and nobody pays attention to where they're going. She should be thankful all she got was wet feet and not a ride to the hospital in the back of an ambulance. Idiot.

Part of me is hoping that sooner or later I'll see her again on her return trip, because I have a feeling she will have learned absolutely ZIPPO from her encounter with traffic today. Based on previous studies, 90% of people that walk in the street tend to stay in the street for the return trip. Cars? Pffffffff. Cars will move. They are PEDESTRIANS, and PEDESTRIANS are like superheroes! Nothing can harm them! Except maybe a steamroller...does anyone know where I could maybe, perhaps, acquire such a steamroller?

Sincerely,

Smart Girl.

Today is apparently Idiot On Bicycles Day.

I never used to hate people that rode bikes. I really have nothing against bikes, except for that one time when I was about 5 and I got into a fight with the kickstand on my own bike, and the kickstand won. I still have the scar.

But anyway. I get that people like to ride their bikes, and sometimes they don't have cars and the bike is all they have to get around.

BUT, that being said, that does NOT give people that ride their bikes in the road the right to be completely idiotic and expect that those of us in cars won't run them over when the opportunity strikes. Being on a bike does NOT make you exempt from the rules of the road when you're riding in the street including, but not limited to, riding the CORRECT way down a one-way street, NOT using the turn lane in the middle of the street as your own personal bike lane, and also, actually STOPPING at red lights/stop signs.

I didn't think that was complicated, but then again...I really need to stop being surprised by the sheer collective stupidity.

Today my brother and I were pretty darned close to running over some stupid teenager that decided the middle of the road was a perfectly good spot to ride his bike. He started off on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road, then he was IN the other lane, riding directly toward a whole line of cars coming straight toward him, and then he veered over into the middle turn lane, pedaling as fast as his dumb little legs would go. He kept weaving closer and closer to our lane and I had a sudden vision of him pulling to the right and streaking into our lane, falling, and our car running him over because we would NEVER have had enough time to stop--that's how close he was. I don't care if you're a teenager and you feel like you're the coolest, bad-ass-iest person that ever lived, if you're gonna ride your damn bike in the damn street, you better use your damn brain.

My brother honked the horn at the idiot kid in the street after we both thought he was going to ride right in front of us, and without breaking stride he turned around and started yelling at us. Our windows were rolled up, and neither of us have any idea what he said aside from the very clearly mouthed "f--- you!".

Hey kid, if you end up as a pancake or smooshed into someone's grill, I can't say I'll feel bad. One less moron I have to put up in this stupid city.

I also have this fear that one of these days I'm going to back out of our driveway and back over another idiot on a bike that's riding in the street, going the wrong way down our ONE-WAY STREET. I realize you're on a bike, but if you're in the street, you have to follow the same rules a car does. It's very hard to see people coming the wrong way down our street because, going the proper direction, there's about half a block of level street and then it slopes down, and because I'm not Superman, I have no x-ray vision to see through the street to tell if there's anybody there. Given how often it happens, it's really just a matter of time until we run them over. Not on purpose, of course, but I still won't be losing any sleep over it.

There was also the day that I came THIS close to hitting yet another idiot on a bike. I was on my way to work, you know, the usual, driving the correct way down our street. I started to slow down for a red light, and a teenager on a bike came careening around the corner, making a wide turn off the sidewalk directly into my lane, headed, you guessed it, the wrong damn way down the street. I stomped on the brakes and honked my horn at him, and he gave me the finger, shouted something that I can only assume wasn't very polite, and took off down the street.

I guess that's what I get for obeying the laws of traffic.

It's days like today that I'm grateful winter is coming because snow means less morons on two wheels.

Sincerely,

Smart Girl.

The day the neighbors set their house on fire

I didn't always live in this town. I'm from a very, very small town about two hours north of here, and when I say "small town", I mean we had a population of MAYBE 200, and that's if you included all the stray cats and maybe the family of turkeys that lived in the swamp adjacent to our yard for several summers. I grew up on a dirt road, across the street from a cemetery, and the most exciting thing that ever happened was when the neighbor's dogs would break out of their pen and poop in our yard. No joke.

When I moved here a year ago, it was a bit of a culture shock. This town...it's something else, and that's not always a good thing. My hometown had its fair share of morons, certainly, but around here that number is probably closer to 95% of the population. I cannot go even a single day without someone, somewhere, doing something incredibly stupid. Even if I don't leave the house, someone walking down the street will be doing something that makes me wonder if they left the house without their common sense. 

Like the day the neighbors set their house on fire.

It started out like any other normal Sunday. The housemates were at church, I had showered and was puttering around the kitchen waiting for the water to boil for my ramen noodles (breakfast of champions, eh?). The window above the sink offers a view of part of our street, and as I stood there washing the dishes I happened to look up and I saw a fire truck sitting in the street. I didn't hear any sirens, but I tend to listen to music very loudly when I do the dishes, so that was no surprise.

Being the curious individual that I am, I of course went to go stare out the front window to see what was going on. By the time I got to the front of the house there was a total of three firetrucks and one ambulance sitting in the street. The house across the street and to the right of ours had a cloud of dark smoke billowing out one of the back windows, and the occupants of the house were standing in their driveway, staring at the firemen as they rushed inside carrying the big giant hose. 

It must not have been a very large fire, because the majority of firemen that had arrived were standing in the street, blocking traffic, hands on their hips and trying to look super important. The fire chief (according to the name on the back of his jacket, at least) was right in the middle of things, pointing furiously at nothing in particular and looking a bit like a maestro in a large yellow coat. 

It didn't take long for the fire to be put out, maybe 20 minutes or so total before the firemen starting coiling up the hose and taking off, one truck at a time. Nobody was injured, because the ambulance left without ever treating anyone. 

Now, I can't assume what happened. I never heard any details, and I will never know for sure what went on across the street that morning. However, considering that just the night before the police had been called to that same exact house on a domestic disturbance call and nearly arrested one of the guys that either lived in the house or was at least dating someone else that lived there, I can't help but wonder if maybe the fire wasn't entirely an accident. I don't see the point in setting a fire, on purpose, in a house you're renting and don't even own, but I'm not an idiot either. It seems awfully suspicious though, but I suppose I will have to go through life without ever knowing what really went on at the house across the street that morning.

The house has been empty since the fire. Since the people that lived there had about 306 kids that all spent a lot of time outside, screaming for absolutely no reason, it's been very quiet since they moved out.

I don't really miss the neighbors much at all.

Sincerely,

Smart Girl.

Parking. It's not for everyone.

I will never, ever, not in a million years, understand how some people in this country ever get their driver's license. I admit to knocking over a few cones when I (very, very badly) attempted the parallel parking section on my driving test, but I at least have some common sense. I also have the ability to read. My mommy done learned me good.

The people of this town, though... I hated driving before I moved here. Driving is something I did to get to work, not something I did just for the fun of it. Driving makes me very angry, not to the point of ramming into people with my car, but definitely angry enough to scream obscenities at the imbeciles I'm forced to share the asphalt with, even if they can't hear me. STOP SIGNS ARE FOR STOPPING, YOU IDIOT! Oh, hey, no, you don't need to use your blinker because LET ME READ YOUR DAMN MIND!!

You get the idea.

Imagine my surprise when I moved here and discovered that not only can people suck at driving, but they can also suck at parking. I always thought it would be difficult to be terrible at something that involves your vehicle not moving at all. Who knew?

I used to think signs that proclaim, in plain bold English, NO PARKING AT ANY TIME were fairly easy to understand. I mean, you really only need two words, NO and PARKING. Even backwards they still make sense if you add a little punctuation: Parking? NO! Around here those signs are like an unspoken challenge. There's a no-parking sign just down the block from my house that's been spray-painted in a pathetic attempt to make it unreadable, which of course didn't work, because not only can people not figure out how to stop their cars intelligently (not operate the car, just stop the damn thing from moving), they can't even work a can of spray paint. Big surprise, no?

The house across the street (yes, the same one where Pregnant Man lives) has one of those new-fangled "No Parking" signs directly in front of the house. Not out of the ordinary when you realize that entire side of the street doesn't allow parking. And yet, at least two or three times per day (or five or six times a day sometimes) there's a car parked in front of the house, in front of the damned no-parking sign. *sigh*

The list of Pregnant Man's superpowers got a little shorter when he lost the power of reading comprehension.

If this is my last post, it's because I've died ramming my car into the horde of idiots.

Sincerely,

Smart Girl.

The Amazing Adventures of Pregnant Man

There is a house almost directly across the street from mine. On the outside, this house looks pretty average. Pale yellow, well taken care of, nothing that might catch your eye at first glance.

That is, until you catch a glimpse of the people that live inside this house, one man in particular.

The housemates and I have dubbed him 'Pregnant Man'. Not to be rude, but because his stomach sticks out a ridiculous amount and is perfectly rounded, like he's either 9 months pregnant or smuggling an over-inflated basketball under his shirt. I've seen him sans shirt. There's no basketball.

Pregnant Man is one of those people that just doesn't seem to grasp the concept of common sense. He owns a bike (again, not unusual), but in the last year that I've lived in this house I've seen him actually RIDE said bike maybe three or four times. Pregnant Man apparently just likes to take his bike for a walk, like a normal person would do with their dogs. I see him leave the house, bike in tow, walking down the street like he's just going for a casual stroll. Sometimes I see him on his way back home, still rolling the bike along beside him, plodding slowly up the sidewalk. I don't get it.

Pregnant Man's lone superpower seems to be the ability to be a huge, giant creep. I admit I like to watch people like some people like to watch birds, because people do weird things and it makes me laugh. Pregnant Man, though, he's just a creep. He likes to stand out on his front porch and just stare at people as they walk down the sidewalk. Actually it's not so much a stare as it is a leer, which is especially disturbing when it's a woman walking down the street. Nothing makes you feel so attractive as having a balding 50+ year old man, whose stomach precedes him into rooms by at least a week, staring at you without blinking. Way to go, man. Way to go.

Occasionally Pregnant Man spends time on his porch without staring at people. I've witnessed him come out the door, belch loud enough to hear from across the street, and then go right back inside. Total time spent outside: less than 10 seconds. That was a good day. Sometimes he comes out, goes down the porch steps, stands on the sidewalk for a few seconds, and then goes back up the steps and back into the house. I have no idea what he's looking for, what he expects to see, if he's waiting for someone...I don't even have any theories because it's just too damn weird.

Maybe I just spend way too much of my free time staring out the living room window, watching the house across the street, but it never fails to disappoint. There's ALWAYS something interesting, even if sometimes 'interesting' really means 'disturbing'.

Sincerely,

Smart Girl

There's this thing called a 'belt'. Maybe you should look into acquiring one of those.

I've never understood this fashion trend that's been popping up more and more as of late. I mean, there's really nothing attractive about the waistband of your pants sagging down below your butt-cheeks. Unless you're wearing Batman underpants, I don't particularly feel like looking at your tighty-whities (because boxers ruin the look of pants-below-your-ass, apparently). Wearing your pants that low doesn't make you a bad-ass, and it doesn't make you cool, it just makes you look like maybe you should ask your mommy if she can pick out your outfits for you every morning because you're incapable of dressing yourself.

The part that really gets me, though, is the guys that wear skinny jeans way down below their cheeks. And then, of course, since they're skinny jeans, it makes it hard to walk, and then the guys that are trying SO HARD to look and act all gangster have to waddle down the sidewalk like a penguin. I can't not laugh at them; it's physically impossible for me not to crack up when I spy them, no matter if it's in the middle of Target or just someone on the sidewalk as I drive past.

I see a LOT of this around here. Sometimes on my day off I open the curtains in our living room window and just watch the people go by. More often than not, it's some young guy in his 20's, wearing his baseball cap sideways, pants down around his knees, slouching down the sidewalk with loud rap music blaring from the tiny speaker on his cell phone. Dude, your terrible taste in music only serves to mirror your terrible taste in fashion. Please, do us all a favor; invest in some headphones, and PULL UP YOUR DAMN PANTS.

Sincerely,

Smart Girl.