Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Dog Hair in My Dinner...PLUS a BONUS "Are you kidding me" moment

I have a dog. I have a hairy, furry, amazing Golden Retriever dog. She has a few strange habits but the one that makes me say "are you kidding me?" is the one where she waits until I sit down with my plate of dinner (usually on the sofa) and then she comes over to where I am and shakes (like dogs do when they are hosed down with water and can't wait to get the excess off...but of course she is completely dry). And through the air I see those pale blond strands of hair gravitating toward my plate as if I included magnets in my dinner recipies.
I just don't get it. She never shakes. Ever. Except every night when I sit down with my plate.
Sometimes I gag. Sometimes I completely lose my appetite. Either way, I just get pissed off and look at her and yell "No!" followed by, "SERIOUSLY?!"

Today was a double whammy.

Before the dog hair in my dinner incident, I almost flattened a cyclist on my way to work this morning. Now, I have had my fair share of cycling events so I am pretty familiar with bikes and what-not, but am still amazed at how clueless people can be (this is the understatement of the century). Okay, so the scenario is:
I am driving down a two-lane ONE WAY street people...keep that in mind..ONE WAY. On either side of this street are BIKE LANES. You know, those lanes made for bikes. I am driving down this one way street and, because I had not yet had my morning coffee, I realized something about this street was "off." It took me a moment to realize what, but after processing the "that can't be what I think it is" thought and then realizing it was, indeed, what I thought it was, I most definitely had to slam on the brakes (this is not an easy task on an 11-year old vehicle held together by Superglue). Practically careening into my grill (my literal grill, not my diamond encrusted dental one...I don't wear that to work) was a girl on a bike, doing Mach 3, in the middle of the street, going the opposite way of the one-way traffic.
Seriously?
Not only are you speeding on your bike. Not only are you going the wrong way down a one way street. Not only are you NOT using the bike lanes, but you are LITERALLY in the middle of the street and about to get up close and personal with "the beast." (That's my car, not me). After screeching the brakes, I have to refrain from flipping her off or yelling "Are you kidding me?!" at her because with my luck, the girl would have turned out to be my boss' sister or my preacher's daughter or some other person who has the ability to make my life as awkward as possible.
What are you kidding me?

Sunday, September 21, 2008

The Saddest Day in Baseball History...

Today is a sad day. Who in their right mind agrees to tear down Yankee Stadium? What sane group of people think it's okay to demolish The House that Ruth Built?
Is Derek Jeter's perfectly brilliant smile the only silver lining to this very dark cloud?

What are you kidding me? Seriously, people.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Tale of the Telemarketer Gone Sour

I have started this blog because I find myself daily asking the questions, "Really?," "Seriously?," and, my personal favorite, "Are you kidding me?." Encounters with people and situations occur on an almost-daily basis and force me to ask these questions in utter disbelief (though I don't know why I'm still shocked).


*Anything written in italics are my thoughts at the time
Today, for example, I am at work, immersed in the busyness that is my office, and I receive a phone call. Actually the main office line receives a phone call...I am the one to pick it up. A very cheerful telemarketer (that was my first warning sign...the dreaded reading off a script) gushes (and I mean, she is EXCITED) about how she hopes I'm having a great day and then proceeds to tell me I've been thrown in jail and my bail is posted at $1000. Okay, well, interesting marketing technique I guess. She busts out laughing and says, "Oh I'm just messing with you, we're not REALLY going to throw you in jail." Great joke. She proceeds to tell me who she's raising money for and that to get out of jail I have to find people to donate $1000 to her cause.
Feeling like a pro (we deal with telemarketers on a semi-regular basis), I give her my usual schpiel. "That's okay," I said. "I'm going to pass at this time but thank you for your call."
---The wrath of the telemarketer unleashes here---
"Well, do you mind telling me why?"
Okay, is it normal for telemarketers to get so defensive? And wow, she sounds really pissed off at me right now.
"I mean, why don't you want to participate in this? Don't you want to help other people?"
I'm not sure but I think she just called me selfish.
"I didn't even tell you the date of our fundraiser yet and you've already decided you're not going to participate and I'm just wondering why. I mean, can you give me a reason?"
Mayday, mayday, we are going down. Okay, you can't be rude. It is your job to be nice. I have no words right now. No nice words for the sourpuss telemarketer.
The only words coming to mind are...

"Really? Seriously? Are you kidding me?!"
The only reason I can think to give her at this point, being that I have upset her beyond the realms of where telephone communication reaches, is that I was a little uncomfortable being asked such questions.
"But thanks for your call," I made sure to say. "Have a great day."
She slammed the phone down in my face and I sat at my desk for the next 4 minutes without blinking or moving. Just replaying the conversation in my head over and over.
Then I remembered there were brownies in the kitchen and I was over it.
But come on people, really?!