Friday, April 27, 2007

I'm just livin' the hate

...You are wearing stretchy pants with granny panties. Is that a diaper? With an ass like that you have zero business wearing stretchy pants, then you have the gall wear a shirt that does extend down beyond your waist. Do you not realize that people can see you? You actually stepped out of the house like that, it boggles the mind. I wouldn’t be as surprised if you were the crazy semi homeless woman that can occasionally be seen yelling at me in union square, I mean she has no choice. You on the other hand are in an office building, with professionals and are under the age of ancient, you therefore are hated.

...You type emails using double spaces. When’s your essay on A Separate Peace due? Mine is due next week. I was careful to use my theme paper, double spaced in a plastic binder thingy, because presentation counts for more than content. I wrote all about how I’m in fifth grade, yet some how have a “respectable” corporate job. I parallel this to the way that Finn had internal latent issues with hating you.

...You send me a piece of paper by inter office mail. It is bad enough that you sit less than 10 steps away from me and it’s actually farther for you to go walk it over to the mail room rather than to my office, BUT the really annoying part is that I asked you to email it to me. What good is a piece of paper? What am I going to do with this other than throw it out? You are as pointless as a rotary phone, not even useful as a novelty, only useful as a hate.

...You misspell your own name. Out of all the words in existence, out of all the names, you fuck up the spelling of your own. Even if it’s a typo, that’s the one word you should always catch, is it not? How hard it is to even spell your name, john smith? Perhaps your name should be changed to You A. Hated.

...You schedule me for a Dr. apt. at 9, I show up to the office at 8:50, you know to get the paper work out of the way so I can get in by 9 and be on my way. To my dismay, my 9 AM apt was only a suggested time because apparently, you suggested that 15 other people show up at 9AM as well creating a free for all. It’s like your taping for a show and you overbook to make sure there are no empty seats in the audience. Unless you are going to line us all up and walk by for a turn and cough, we’re gonna be here all day and I’m gonna hate you all day.

...You have a barcode. Hey, I’m sure it must be traumatic to lose your air, it’s like losing a part of your soul, I get that. But your nine, 4 foot long hairs greased down across your dome from left to right don’t fool anyone. How can you look at yourself in the morning everyday when you wake up with your Willy Wonka hair dangling to your shoulder on one side as you reach for your palmade and I reach for my hate.

...You are customer service and when answering the phone you say, hi this Mr. Walker. What is so secret about your name Mr. Bond? Why can’t I know your first name? is it because you are Jimmy walker and really just too embarrassed for people to know you’ve been reduced to working in a call center? Who refers to themselves by mr. or ms. Anyway? You doesn't refer to you as hated?

...You respond to someone calling you Mr. Walker by saying. Mr. Walker is my dad, call me Jim. That’s Jimbo way to identify with the youth. Let’s try to get down to the kid’s level because we’re going to be talking about some serious subjects here, drugs and sex. We know, you’re a 38 yr old ex addict now you’re giving talks to the kids at school about life on the streets, it’s hard out there man and it’s hated out there.

...You are my weekend barista at the local starbucks and accuse of me of trying to swindle myself a couple of free coffees. So a conservative estimate would be that I spend maybe $1200 a year in starbucks. I go to get me a couple cups for myself and the lady one Sunday morning, I return to the old apartemento with the cups, we drink them and enjoy them, then on our way out the door, we stop back in for a refill, which are supposed to be 50 cents. Well what took place at the counter was a series of shock and awe. The very same barista from the morning made the accusation “well I know you didn’t get these from here” to which I replied “well yes I did, in fact I got them from you.” evil barista’s reply. “well these are cold.” Common sense man’s (me) reply “of course they are cold, they are empty, that’s why I came in for some more”. Low IQ barista’s reply “I’ll let it go this time, but just no my manager is here”. Pushing it too far guy’s reply “Um can you replace the lid, it’s kind of dirty”. I take my minimum wage coffee maker job too far barista’s reply, “it’s called a refill, you get the same cup, I can’t give you a new lid, it can’t be done, it’s a refill, not a new cup”. Going to slash your tires, pissed off consumer guy’s (me) reply “I hate you.”

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