Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Hate of Endearment

…You chime in on an email chain that took place 3 days ago. You see, in the real world, everyone is slacking off at work, emailing their friends and responding within seconds to a conversation that’s occurring. But let me set this in terms that you might be able to understand. Say you get a pony express message from a distant friend that lives a whole 10 miles away. Well when the horse and messenger arrive, you immediately read the message and reply while the messenger is there so that 7 days from now, your friend will get the message and then you will get my hate.

…You reset your alarm as soon as you wake up regardless of whether or not it’s a Friday or you’re going away for three weeks or you’re a dirty stay out. Alarms are to be set right before you go to bed, not right when you wake up, there’s a good chance you won’t be there in the morning to turn it off at which point an unsuspecting roommate has to turn it off or a poor innocent neighbor has to hear a beeping sound from 6AM to 9AM at which point that neighbor has to break into your apartment just to hate you.

…You see that I order mozzarella sticks and you say oh that sounds good, but then don’t order them for yourself. I know you are just going sit there while I eat mine and you will drool until I offer you one, then since there are only three we will both sit there staring at the last one, me feeling guilty for eating something you want even though I’m the one that ordered it and you sitting there thinking that you’d really like to have the last one, but don’t want to be rude forgetting that you already are. In the end the waiter ends up taking away the last one while I end up hating you.

…You stand 3 feet away from the urinal while peeing. So you may have a stream that can reach for majority of your urination, but at some point the faucet will run dry and it will taper off to a mere dribble at which point you are now just peeing on the floor and on yourself and on my hate.

…You are at the gym and are apparently wearing the same clothes for well over a month without washing them. The entire treadmill area smells so repugnant, I dry heaved while running 7 times and held my breathe for the last two minutes which still cut my run short. How on earth are you not throwing up from your own smell? I’d rather be a hair on the ass of the nastiest bum in NY on a 100 degree July afternoon than to have to run next to you one second longer without hating you.

…You place your gym bag on the bench at the gym and then place your sneakers right next to them. Please go right ahead your majesty, us peasant folk will sit on the floor to tie our shoes while your stank ass sneakers can in no way be placed on the floor, no, they belong right there on the bench so no one can use it while in the presence of royalty and in the presence of hate.

…You are a credit card company that receives my payment in the form of a check (don’t ask me why I sent a check in the first place), you don’t cash it for over a month, then turn off my charging privileges so I call and state that I will pay online, you say you will return my check to me, then once I’ve paid online you decide to cash the check. When I paid online I should have just accepted the fact that my check would definitely be cashed and if I didn’t pay online I should have accepted that I would definitely hate you.

…You drive a Saturn. Please oh please have some self respect will you? I don’t care if you are not loaded and can’t afford a beamer, but a Saturn? I would rather drive a bicycle with training wheels than a Saturn. And by chance you are enough of a tool to own and drive said Saturn, well then you must never speak of it, you must never tell a story that involves your Saturn, especially to me when other people might be within earshot of your patheticness. You must never admit to driving one when someone asks what kind of car you have and must never forget that you are hated by me.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

How about guys who stand naked in front of the mirror blow drying their hair..or simply...admiring themselves. They can't do this at home? They have to remain naked among strange men for as long as possible? My god, I hate the gym locker room. For me it's eyes on the floor and get my clothes on as fast as possible to get home and shower. For them it's like a Roman bath house, minus any acceptable sanitation.