Archive for the ‘Driving’ Category

Dear Neighbor with the really loud truck who leaves each morning at 6:30 am-

I am really so happy for you… It is so very obvious you are in love with your truck- the way you round out each of the gears before you reach a tenth of a mile to the stop sign at North and Pine is really impressive!!! I’m sure the huge surge of testosterone you get from rattling every neighbor’s house foundation each morning is just an added benefit of owning such a HE-MAN truck. We (all of your neighbors from your house to highway 35) are truly blessed not to have to rely on our alarm clocks because each and every morning we have you to wake us out of our deepest, sweet slumbers… where we are mostly likely dreaming of having such a thunderous truck as yours.

We indeed, are too fortunate, you know, we should have to share your harmonious and peaceful alarm system with your neighborhood homeowners to your right. How would they ever be able to experience the abrupt interruption of each blissful morn, the way we do each early break of day, if you never take a right out of your driveway?? Sure, there is a big hill that may prevent you from getting up to SIXTY miles per hour on our subdivision streets but it’s just not fair for us to keep up you all to ourselves.

I must also commend your on your cat-like reflexes. It must take a great deal of skill to be able to get your truck up to such high speeds in a 25 mile an hour zone without ever hitting any animals or God forbid- children. I just hope everyone who speeds through our neighborhood like you do has the same lightening fast reflexes to prevent injury or death. Maybe you could give driving lessons at the local high school? I’m sure your skill is in great demand. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed!

Grateful Neighbor


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To my rude neighbors (and any other parking impaired dirtbags),

The lines are painted perpendicular to the curb for a reason… It’s to guide your sorry, oxygen burning, completely distracted, lazy excuse for a human being into the parking spot. Why must you park diagonally in a straight pull in spot? Are you that self-important that you can’t take the extra .7 seconds and additional steering effort to put your car STRAIGHT IN to the parking spot?

Do you think that because you managed to somehow dupe the driving examiner into giving you a driver’s license, you are entitled to park anywhere/anyway you want?

And for the guy (or girl) that can’t park in the middle of the space… What in God’s name is wrong with you? How utterly impossible is it to split the difference between the lines? Yeah, I know how important it is for you to get to where you are going and how world peace will somehow be affected if you take a couple extra seconds and put forth the 0.0002% extra effort it would take. I do realize that it’s all about you, but come on, show the rest of us that you have at least an inkling of respect for others.

I think I’ll trade my 2003 Ford truck for a 58 Willy’s, you know the kind with the really sturdy doors… and the next time your sorry existence encroaches on the empty spot… Whack! I’ll make sure you get that lovely door ding that you are so begging for!



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Dear Stupid Cashier at the Clothing Store,

I know you don’t remember me, seeing as it’s been 6 months since the last time I entered your store, can you blame me?! Last time I was there you tried to make small talk (which I hate enough as it is) and I had to, very politely, explain that I was going to be late for work if you continued with your sob story about how you are just working here temporarily to make some extra cash and they don’t pay you enough, on top of that they keep moving you from location to location and blah, blah, blah…

You must have mistakenly thought that I was inviting you to continue our (and by “our” I mean “your”) small talk, just on a different subject. WRONG! Now, when you asked me where I worked I didn’t know what hell was going to be unleashed when I answered, if I had known I would have said something like “the morgue” just to keep you silent. “I am a salesperson at the local dealership”, I told you. Then it began. I could see it as soon as the words left my mouth, your eyes got real big and the “OOOOOOOHH” that formed on your lips indicated that I must’ve sparked a memory that I SO wish I could’ve left hidden away in the very dark corners for your teeny weeny brain.

You start rattling off some random question about how much it would cost me to have an extra key made for your 2005 Toyota Rav4 because you let your best friend borrow your car and his 4 year old son swallowed the key. My smile (and I say smile, but really I mean evil death stare with a grin that could kill) must have interrupted your story. I smile, not because I think you’re cute, nice, funny, smart and definitely not because I am enjoying our conversation (or your company for that matter). I smile because right now I am imagining myself reaching my arm out as far as possible and bitch-slapping you across the damn face.

I WANT to tell you to go kill yourself and how much I despise “your kind” but instead I contain myself, give you the number to call and demand that you ask for yourself. This must’ve made you very sad because you finally decided to shut the hell up, give me my merchandise, and let me go on along my merry way. You obviously missed the part where I said I was a SALESPERSON not a CUSTOMER SERVICE GRUNT RESPONSIBLE FOR MEMORIZING EVERY PRICE FOR EVERY MINISCULE ITEM IN THE ENTIRE DEALERSHIP just in case I run into some curious bimbo that’s too lazy to call and find out themselves. Give me a break lady.

Note to self: next time someone asks where you work, lie, just down right lie.

Very sincerely,

The rude annoying customer that hates your guts

P.S. Thanks for making me late to work, by the way.

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Does tardiness somehow lessen IQ?

How is it that people, ostensibly SMART people, can apparently be completely and utterly incapable of calculating their transit time in order to arrive somewhere AT THE APPOINTED TIME?

I mean honestly, if an iPod-listening, frowning and non-watch wearing teenager can get himself, his hair and his too-baggy pants into a community meeting on time, how is it that a double-Masters PhD like you can’t even get to a client meeting on time, when that client comes from a culture where PUNCTUALITY IS A MUST?

Or why can’t you, the software uber-geek, used to working insane hours to meet an arbitrary project deadline which even you deride, can’t get his sorry ass across town to meet the supposedly most important person in your life ON TIME?

Let me be clear:

1) Making others wait because you can’t get yourself organized to arrive on time IS NOT OK. It shows a complete lack of respect for their time.

2) If you can get an MS or PhD, you can get the concept of transit time. Until we have beam-me-up-Scotty technology, you DO need to take this into account when planning your movements. DO IT. Constantly arriving late doesn’t make you look busy and important, it makes you look stupid.

3) Calling 5 minutes before you’re meant to be somewhere just to say you’re going to be 40 minutes late IS NOT OK. Have you ever considered that maybe the person you’re meeting has just juggled their entire schedule and workload and risked several collisions to make absolutely, positively sure they WOULD be there on time? You didn’t suddenly realize you weren’t going to make it five minutes ago, idiot, you knew that at least 35 minutes ago. Why didn’t you call then, you dumbass? See 2) above.

3) Repeating 3) over and over doesn’t make it any less annoying or inconsiderate, it makes it MORE so.

Tardiness is for morons, my friends. Don’t make think of you as one.

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Dear Mr. Important,

Do you think you’re better than me? I, along with about 20 other cars, was stopped at a traffic light in the left lane, and you came in the empty right lane, (which was turn-only) and cut over at the last second into the left lane, thus cutting in front of all of us. Were you on the way to perform open-heart surgery? Were you on your way to talk down a jumper from the top of a skyscraper?

I bet not. I bet you’re just a douchebag on the way to some douchebag errand, like getting your faux-hawk styled or sneaking into a pilates
class to pick up chicks.

Watch it, or someone like me will run you off the road and ruin your douchebag day.



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Mark B., dreading your fourth meal

My worst restaurant experience is everyday. I work at Taco Bell. I hate people, because it seems that nowadays, no one has any common sense. I mean come on, how hard is it to pronounce guacamole? Or to read the giant glowing neon menu in front of you instead of asking me how much a taco is?

READ!!! And they will buy whatever is promoted. I could put up a poster with a picture of toenail clippings topped with a layer of our cool ripe tomatoes and sour cream, for just 99 cents, and people will buy it. One day, when the taco bell dog was popular, we were selling plush toys of the dog and a lady asked me if the chihuahuas were any good.

I told her not in this country. Idiots.

My store is located next to an Arby’s, so naturally people come through the drive thru and order Arby’s melts. You would THINK that the giant bell in front of their faces would draw attention to the fact that they are at the wrong place!! They must be so overwhelmed by their hunger lust that they forget how to read.

Rantasaurus Says: You know, you laugh, but I swear by it. Toenail clippings first thing in the morning does wonders for my constitution. Lots of fiber, if you know what I mean.

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Amy M., free ride no more

The next time your regular ride leaves you hanging and you call me for a ride to work, you are going to be shit out of luck.

I don’t care if you don’t have the sick time or vacation days to cover the absence, or if you are on your final final written warning. We work at the same place and I assume make about the same amount of money. We live in the same neighborhood, so I assume you pay about the same in rent. But somehow, somehow I manage to be a real grownup and budget for transportation.

I would feel differently if your freeloading ass had a car and you wanted to carpool to save the planet. Or, while we’re at it, if you would compensate me at least as much as you do the Central Ohio Transit Authority when you get your ride from them.

The ride to work must be considerably more comfortable and considerably less time consuming in my car than on the bus, but somehow you can’t even muster up a sincere “Thank you.”

So next time, sorry, I don’t think I have the time to swing by and pick you up.

Rantasaurus Says: Next time, give him my number. Funny, a person rarely realizes how fast they can run until I start chasing them.

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