Tuesday, March 11, 2008

I'm saving all my hate for you

...You are part of a book club. You and your Oprah buddies gather round once a week so you can feel like you’re so intelligent and have such relevance in an otherwise irrelevant existence. You can’t even select books to “read” on your own, you have to have Oprah tell you what to read, god forbid you develop your own thought or opinion, but at least I’ve developed my own hate.

...You say love daylight savings becuse when you get out of work it's still light out. Really? I would have guessed that you enjoy getting out work when it's dark, its cold, its raining, but not just any rain, the rain where it's about 33 degrees and some of it comes down as ice the rest as cold as water in the bottom of a cooler. I'm just saying that's what I would have thought, not that you enjoy nice sunny weather or nice gloomy hate.

...You are running on a narrow, crowded sidewalk and get pissed when people are in your way. That’s a brilliant idea, idea I must say, run where’s it crowded, run on smog infest city streets with exhausts blasting your face, but then get pissed when people are walking on the sideWALK. I am going to stalk you until the next time I see you walking on a crowded sidewalk, at which point I’ll run by you, turn around run by you again, turn around, run by you yet again, I will continue to repeat each time making some sort of obnoxious sound to let you know I’m pissed at you for being in MY way, but never actually stopping to say anything. This is the world in which we have live because of you and this is hate we have live in because of you.

...You enter a men’s room and see an option of 5 stalls, two of contain occupants, the other three have unlocked, half open doors and are clearly unoccupied, you approach the nearest occupied stall (mine) and knock. This of course causes me to have to interrupt the only peaceful 5 minutes of my day with an uncomfortable clearing of the throat and a stern pronouncement that the stall is occupied. Your reckless approach to bathroom behavior is going to get you into trouble one of these days, but for now it’s getting you into hate.

...You feel you can just yell out to people from your cube when you want to talk to them. Go right ahead, there’s obviously no one else trying to do any work and your conversation with every single person of your unending quest to lose 5 pounds (35 to few) is critical information to my day and not just one day, but every single day by day by day by day by day by hate by you.

...You say “I’m hungry for lunch now” when it’s 11:30 and then feel the need to qualify with a snide, “because I get up so early”. You know, we fucking get it, you get in the office early, you work weekends, you work late, you work at home, boo fuckedy hoo. No one is telling you to dedicate every waking hour to work, you my friend are the worker bee, you will never advance because then the work wouldn’t actually get done, you will be surpassed by people younger and less experienced than you, because you can not move work and because you actually do the work while I sit around and hate you.

...You roll down the window of your car, lean out and just say the name of a street to me. And what about this street? Ohhhhhhhh, I get it, you are lost, you need MY help, so you decide to pull over, interrupt me while I’m walking and demand that I help you. You are not even demanding, you are just saying the name of a street as though you’re in a foreign country where they don’t speak the language. How about trying to be a little more considerate of the fact that you’re the one that’s lost, I hold the 30 minutes to an hour of your life in my hands, I can choose to help you or I can choose to hate you.

...You are wearing tight rolled pants. I must admit, I have yet to see this, but we’re dealing with a pre-emptive hate. I’ve seen this 80’s revival go one step too far and it’s only a matter of time before some hipster busts out his “ironic” pair of tight rolled acid wash jeans. Here’s my rational, at a night out in the billy berg, I started to see where things have headed, let’s just say the past 6 months I’ve been more of a hermit, so I re-emerge to find legitimate mullets, tight art deco sweaters, fanny packs, florescent colors and all the other bad styles from the 80’s that should never be brought bad, as a joke or otherwise. But then I saw the deneumont (I have no idea how to spell that), it was a man wearing what appeared to be an all white Z Cavarechi suit, you know a very high waist and very short jacket that is tight at the waist, but that’s not the best part, the best part was the mirrors from a disco ball that were attached to the jacket forming vertical stripes and forming my hate.

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