First, apologies to Tom for stealing his title idea without a mashed potato reference to go along with it. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had mashed potatoes in months, even.
Last night, in my haste to re-post, I forgot two things that really, really, really pissed me off on the drive home. Maybe not pissed me off, but made me think enough about how annoying people are.
First was some guy on the radio, a news reporter, who was referring to the year 2000 in his report. Now, I know when *I* refer to the year 2000, and I assume when every normal, God-fearing person on earth refers to the year 2000, they think of it as “year two-thousand”. Am I right?
Not this douche bag. His line was something like, “blah, blah, blah… since the year twenty-hundred… blah, blah, blah”. TWENTY-HUNDRED? Are you freaking kidding me? I know that in comparison to say, the year 1700, or 1800, or 1200 even, it could be “twenty-hundred”. But its not. Do you look at a check and say, “Oh, I just got a check for twenty-hundred dollars!”??? No! You got a check for TWO-THOUSAND dollars. Just like you get a check for fifteen-hundred dollars, not “one thousand, five hundred” dollars. Does it make you feel more educated to say “twenty-hundred”? I hope not, because you still sound like a 50 year old man who’s giving the news on an AM network station at 1 AM.
It reminds me of the time I heard this guy that anchored at the first station I worked at. And, knowing he really WAS a complete jerkoff (along with his complete jerkoff wife), I shouldn’t have been surprised when I heard the way he read a zip code on air. The zip code of the station was 43215. Or, in speaking terms, four-three-two-one-five. Right? Because that’s how we read zip codes in this country. Not this dye-job. It was “Forty three, twenty one…five.” Just like that, too. My jaw dropped. Don’t these people know that you sound like an ignorant jackass while you’re trying to be trendy? I guess not. Of course, this is the same guy who, while making six figures easy, reportedly got his gray spot dyed at Fiesta Hair and Tanning. Yeah, the same place that I would get my hair cut, but only when they had a “$6.99” sale, since I made about $7.50 an hour, he would go for a dye job. But he would make them open the back door for him, and do the dye job in the back so no one would see that he dyed his hair. Nevermind the day when the large gray patch on his temple magically disappeared.
Wow, that was more spirited than I thought it would be. Almost makes me wonder how I’ll end up going off on the next point. Parking lots.
Maybe I’m the anal-retentive one when it comes to parking, but if I’m going to park, especially at my apartment complex, I’m going to make sure I stay inside the lines. If I think I might be a little close to one line or the other, I’ll make a judgement call. If I look down and realize my WHOLE BACK WHEEL IS OVER THE LINE AND INTO THE NEXT SPACE, I’m moving the damn car! I don’t know if the one I saw last night was forced into the other space by the car next to it, but I don’t think so. Take the time to back up and try it again. Unless you’re giving birth, or have just lost a limb in a horrifying seatbelt accident (and I didn’t notice any blood trails or spare placentas around), MOVE YOUR DAMN CAR!
(Tomorrow, why people with 16 items in the 15 items or less line need to be castrated.)