Wednesday, September 09, 2009

You say you want a hate-olution

...You do not exit the elevator when it arrives at your floor. Come on little turtle it’s okay, no one’s gonna bite you out here. I’m not sure why it takes so long for you to exit, that by the time you decide to leave, the doors are closing and then someone has to push the button to open them again and then we all have to stand around and wait for the doors to close yet again before we start to hate you.

...You think it’s so hysterical that a plastic flower will play music and “dance” whenever you press a button. Do blowing bubbles still get you too? I can’t believe we work in the same company and that you probably make more money than me, how can it be that a fortysomething year old man gets so happy at a piece of plastic with a speaker and how is it that a thirtysomething year old man can spend so much energy hating you.

...You are finished with your work for the day and leave the office at 5:00 where upon leaving the office shut all the lights, including the hallway, even though you obviously are the first person to leave. Well, that’s the end of the day for me, so that’s the end of the day for everyone. I commend your effort to shut it down by 5, but seriously, everyone is still here, it’s not like it’s even close to being late, in fact, I think the actual office hours are until 5:30 and I think my actual hate is for you.

...You have headphones that are actually a radio. Look at yourself, no take a really good look at yourself, are you wearing cutoff jean shorts, roller skates, white tube socks pulled up to your knees? Are you on Venice beach? No, of course you’re not which means you are ineligible to wear radio headphones (with an antenna mind you), you are only eligible for hate.

...You are in a supermarket and refuse to carry a basket or use a cart. You’ve got about 19 items that you’re juggling in your hands and balancing on all parts of your body, but you just won’t break down and admit that you need the basket. Is there a sense of pride here? A sense that you are too much of a tough guy to use a mechanism that allows you to carry many more items that would otherwise be possible? Rest assured knowing that you are not too much of a tough guy to be hated by me.

...You work at the gym and bring your McD’s dinner to eat in front of all the salivating blobs as the aroma permeates the building. I’m still conducting studies as to if this actually aides in the weight loss regimen or contributes to obesity. Are the blobs incentivized to work out harder so they can get home and eat or are they demotivated to the point that they give up after 5 minutes and head straight to the nearest Wendy’s? This is an eternal question and also an eternal hate.

...You are some sort of automated dialing system that whereby you receive an email from me, your phone instantly dials my office. Apparently you miss the point and the beauty of email, this can be used to avoid long winded conversations with people such as yourself. I’m trying to have the least amount of communication with you while still getting work completed, this can be achieved entirely through email with a little bit of hating you.

Monday, August 31, 2009

I always feel like somebody's hatin me

...You are orange. You are so tan that you have a DayGlo orange hue about you. Apparently you've been using that new sun tan lotion that's spf 0. In most places on the planet, people are embarrassed to be too tan, it means they've been working long hours out in the rice fields, but to you it means you were a drunken whore in the Hamptons all weekend and on this blog it means you're hated.

...You give the prayer-yoga sign when saying thank you in an awful attempt to be humble, however the only reason you are even showing appreciation and saying thank you is because you were fishing for a compliment. You say you're not good at something, say hate blogging, then the unfortunate soul having to be on the receiving end of your conversation must reply with a compliment about how you are really funny and a great hater. Your reaction is oh thank you, namaste, I bow to you and I hate you.

...You are a help desk and offer no additional help than everyone already knows. So on one of your 13 crashes of the week, you call the help desk for your company. After waiting for 20 minutes to be connected to India, you are greeted with the most "helpful" suggestions. Have you rebooted? hmmm oh, have you tried to restart? Have you tried to change your password? These are the genius responses only to be followed up with having to create a ticket, waiting 3 days for the techie to show up and ask I've restarted, and then about 3 seconds to hate you.

...You request to be my friend on Facebook after I've defriended you. Yes it's true, it actually happened, someone doesn't want to read your updates about your headache, the traffic on the way to work, the diarrhea you have or that your making lunch. I don't want to know these things about myself, why do I care about someone I spoke to once in high school to ask if there was homework. All this nonsense gets you one less friend and gets me one more hate.

...You have yourself a little fiesta in the conference room, but refuse to clean up your mess when it's done. Yes, it's great to have a little celebration for the $15 you raised with the 3k fundraiser run. So what do you do? Why you spend $50 ordering pizza to make sure you put on any weight you may have lost during this courageous effort. Now that the celebration has ended, you leave a massive mound of rotting garbage for all to see, smell and hate.

...You are an urban Sherpa. You have a backpack that is the size of a large child, yet walk into the subway as though you are skinnier than a hipster. You fail to recognize the hiking equipment on your back as you turn left, turn right and try to squeeze into a 4 inch wide standing room only space. You also fail to recognize that other people actually exist in the same space and time which means you must also fail to recognize that I hate you.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Statler and Waldorf's Infinite Hatelist

...You are some sort of automated dialing system that whereby you receive an email from me, your phone instantly dials my office. Apparently you miss the point and the beauty of email, this can be used to avoid long winded conversations with people such as yourself. I’m trying to have the least amount of communication with you while still getting work completed, this can be achieved entirely through email with a little bit of hating you.

...You see that I’m holding the door for you and then take your sweet ass time to get to the door and walk through. You must think the entire world is under employment for you. We all carefully move and adjust our lives in a way to serve your and make your life more comfortable, because why else would a nice young gentleman such as myself freely give up 30 seconds of his life to hold the door for you? That’s right I didn’t it was gesture where you failed to live up to your end of the bargain where you give a half ass jog to the door thereby meeting me halfway between being nice and hating you.

…You don’t say thank you when I hold the door for you. This is a common courtesy, I do something nice for you, you reply with a simple thank you. I realize that you are special and deserve to have doors held for you, you should expect it, it would be rude if someone didn’t hold the door for you, so naturally why should you thank them. You want to know why? Because the next time I see you, I’m going shut the door in your face, then hold it shut so you can’t open it, then I’ll laugh and laugh, maybe I’ll even point, all because I hate you.

...You are sending a fax, you have the wrong number, you hear loud obnoxious sounds (i.e.BEEP BEEP), then walk away. As pleasing to the ear as that beeping sound may be, I prefer that it go away. When you dial a phone number and find out it doesn’t work, do you put the phone down and walk away? NO, you hang it up, a fax machine works the same way, you see that big red button that says “stop”? Well you guessed it, that stops the call, stops the noise and stops my hate.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

I'm Back Into Hating Again

...You blow your nose into a tissue or napkin and then once you are done honking, you pull it away from your face, spread it open and have yourself a good looksie. Upon revealing the wondrous treasure inside your semi unfolded tissue you give a look of either great pride or utter disappoint in your latest effort in a life long quest for the perfect boogie which happens to be my latest effort in a life long quest for the perfect hate.

...You are hosting a meeting with mostly those young whippersnappers and try to connect with the young “professionals” and think to yourself, what better way to connect with a younger generation than to make a self deprecating comment referencing my baldness such as “when I’m writing up here on the board, please don’t be distracted by the glare off my head”, let the hilarity ensue and let the hatred begin.

...You are hosting a meeting with such a mundane subject matter like the results from your employee satisfaction survey or new ethics policy and instead of treating the subject matter as it should be, a waste of time, you are unnaturally excited, almost to the point of creepily excited, but recognizing this disturbing trend you state that you’ve had too much caffeine this morning as if that’s a way to validate an almost orgasmic level of excitement for my new reason for hating you.