Occasionally you can turn to your neighbors when you need help. In the past, my parents' neighbors were always really helpful when it came to things like dog-sitting, house-sitting, and the like. Our neighbors now, however...nowhere near as helpful.
Last weekend my brother and my sister-in-law rented a Uhaul truck so we could move some furniture and things from my sis-in-law's parents, who are currently in the process of moving from Michigan to Florida. I wasn't there for the loading of the truck, but I can assume it was probably along the lines of people packing boxes, carrying them to the truck, then putting the boxes in the truck, and repeating that process until the truck was full. Pretty simple, right?
The unloading of the truck, however, was much more...entertaining? Obnoxious? I'm really not even sure which word I want to use.
Before I go further, I should probably explain that somewhere around a few months ago our wonderful neighbor Pregnant Man got a new neighbor. I say 'neighbor' in the sense that they live in the same house, and I'm pretty sure that house has been split into apartments judging by the four different doorbells beside the front door. The new guy, we'll call him R, does NOT, in ANY way, give off an aura of intelligence. A couple times he caught us on our way into our house, shouting at us from the curb where he was getting either in or out of the vehicle he no longer owns. He's so far introduced himself to me at least 4 times, although it wasn't until the whole unpacking fiasco that I actually learned his name. Usually the introductions consisted of him shouting "Hey there! I just moved into the neighborhood!", even though the 'just' was about 2 months before. Again, R is not the sharpest crayon in the box.
So. On that fateful Saturday when my brother and I were carrying some things from the Uhaul to the house, R and some other guys pull up in front of our house and park in the space that's not actually a space that comes about 6 inches from blocking our neighbors driveway. R climbs out of the car, staring at us like we're doing something he's never seen before, then shouts at us, asking if we want some 'free help'. Sorry, it's not like we would pay him anyway. My brother shruggingly shouts back something along the lines of "Sure, if you want to," and then R shouts back that he'll be out to help us in a minute. Turns out he had to go inside to get a back brace that in the end did him absolutely no good. He proceeds to come across the street and clambers into the back of the truck. My brother somehow talks him into helping him carry an incredibly bulky piece of furniture (I forget exactly what it was, but it doesn't really matter). I suppose that in the end having another man to carry the heaviest thing in the truck was probably a good thing, but R assures us, multiple times, that he won't go in our house, and then proceeds to put down the heavy thing they're carrying halfway between the truck and the house, and leaves it there. Mind you, in order to get in our house, from any door, you have to go up a couple steps. So now, instead of at least helping get it onto the porch so we can push it the rest of the way into the house, R leaves it so my brother and I have to carry it up and into the house ourselves, and I won't lie--I'm not strong at all.
R goes back to the truck to get something else to carry, and my brother and I follow him. At one point R mumbles something that I'm still not entirely sure of, but I hear the word 'child'. Knowing he'd seen us with my Nephew, and people always assume he's my own child, I launch into an automatic explanation that he's not mine. I mean I love the kid, but I'm not married and have no plans to have any children anytime soon, and I get tired of people instantly thinking Nephew is mine (because in this town, I swear to you every woman has at least 1 kid, regardless of age or marital status). R interrupts me to explain that he called me a 'healthy young child', because he's either over 60 or almost 60, again I'm not entirely sure. It's at this point that I catch his breath, and it smells remarkably like beer.
Now I'm pretty damn sure he's drunk, and that would actually explain everything that he's said and done up to this point. Shortly after the misunderstanding about calling me a child, he spots his 'cousin' across the street and shouts a greeting at him, and then basically ditches us to go back to his own house with his 'cousin' and a few other guys. I say 'cousin' because I'm 90% sure that the house R and Pregnant Man live in is some sort of drug dealing house, given how many random people go in and out of it all day long, and I don't for a second believe that this other man is R's cousin.
R was, in the end, almost zero help at all. My brother and I still had to fight to haul in the rest of the obnoxious furniture ourselves. We still have almost no idea what R said at any time between the slight slurring and the ghetto-thug accent. We basically just ended up with way more insight into our neighbor than we ever wanted/needed, and a slightly funny, slightly alarming story to tell about the day we moved a bunch of furniture. I also have some idea now of why R no longer has the creepy old super loud van he used to drive. I'm not complaining about that at all, because he would take off in that damn van at least 20 times a day and you could hear him coming/going for a good two blocks just due to the muffler. I don't miss that thing at all. Between R and Pregnant Man and the rest of their motley little crew across the street, I think I might spend a lot of time this summer on our front porch, windows open, notebook in hand to write down ideas for more blog posts...
Sincerely,
Smart Girl.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Monday, December 30, 2013
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
Thursday, December 19, 2013
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.
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.
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