An undiscovered phobia?

I have worked in the same high rise building for almost 24 years.  My company has been on different floors during that time but we are currently occupying the entire 24th floor.  When the elevator is approaching our floor, I need to get my keys out because the office is locked when I arrive (God knows why I have to come in at the crack of dawn for heaven's sake!).

 

I have discovered recently that I may suffer from a new phobia.  It seems that I have become terrified that I will drop my keys down the elevator shaft.

 

I hold them in my right hand with a finger inside one of the metal rings. 

 

Where's the diamond?

Not good enough!  I also grip one of my decorative key rings in the palm of my hand.  Hard enough that it leaves a red mark for quite a while. 

  

This is my office key ring. I'm surprised it hasn't melted in my hot little hand.

Still. Not. Good. Enough.  I then hold my right hand up against my body so that if I DO drop the keys, they will hopefully slide down my leg and hit the floor versus falling down the shaft.  Occasionally, if I'm feeling especially frightened, I will go so far as to hold my left hand under my right hand as an extra safety measure.

 

A bit over the top?  Well, I’m just protecting myself from some sort of key trauma.  Yes, that’s it.

 

 

Wha?

Angry and I visited our zoo last Sunday.

While hanging out with the Grizzly Bears at the Grizzly Bear exhibit, I overhead this conversation:

Woman Reading Sign About Grizzly Bears:  “I just don’t get it.”

Friend Who Looked Confused:  “Don’t get what?”

WRSAGB:  “Why they are so fat?”

FWLC:  “Wha?”

WRSAGB:  “They eat healthy stuff.  You know, like Elks and animals and stuff.”

FWLC:  “Wha?”

WRSAGB:  “How do they get so faaaaat when they eat such healthy food?  If you eat healthy, you shouldn’t get fat.”

 

They are BEARS!  Bears!  They aren’t fat.  They're bears!  Bears are big huge animals!  While I wanted to scream that out loud, I quietly said it to Angry instead.  He laughed so hard I thought he was going to pee his pants.

Hey, watch it! I'm not fat. I'm fluffy.

I hope this woman isn't a nutritionist.  I wouldn't want to be told to eat healthy foods like "animals and stuff."

Just remember, don’t tell a bear that he’s fat.  He may just eat you out of anger.

 

 

 

I'm tired of drugs!!

Sorry everyone but I've got to put the "word verification" back onto my comment section.

I took it off because many people told me that they couldn't get it to work right and couldn't leave a comment.

Those of us that blog are attention whores and want need comments to make us feel important.  OK, maybe not all bloggers but I do!

I took the verification off but now I'm getting about 100 spam comments a day about drugs (legal ones!).  I'm not interested in Viagra and other junk like that.

So, I apologize if you are having problems commenting.  I'd like to see everyone's thoughts and ideas about my blog but can't stand the druggies that are sending spam to me!!

Are you talkin' to me? Are you talkin' to ME?

We sat down at our favorite local pub and grill to visit with our Saturday night bartenders (on Saturday, believe it or not!).  I'll call our bartender buddies "P" and "R."

Sitting across from us was another couple that are regulars and we six were having fun chatting with each other.  There was also a “gentleman” sitting to my right who seemed to want to constantly interrupt us.  I'll anoint him "Annoying Loudmouth Guy" (ALG for short).

We had ordered some Girl Scout cookies from Bartender P and he gave us a box to take to our car.  We joked that we'd ordered an entire case even though it was a small box.  ALG jumped into that conversation and said, "Wow!  You bought a ton of cookies.  I assume you are sharing with everyone at the bar?  How many are in there?  What kind did you buy?  How come you got a whole box full?"

I thought:  If I share, it will be with people I know.  Not some guy who can't shut his mouth about my cookies.

At one point, we were teasing our friend across the bar about being a Chicago Cubs fan and his long wait for a World Series appearance (let alone a victory!).  Suddenly, right in the middle of our teasing ALG says shouts, “I think there’s something wrong with the TV colors.  What do you guys think?  The reds and oranges stand out too much.  Don't ya think?” 

I thought:  Well now, if you wanted to join our conversation, how about talking about the Cubs or at least something sports related?  Otherwise, zip it.

Bartender P stopped in front of us and asked, “What’s new with you guys since last Saturday?”  Before either one of us could open our mouths to answer, ALG asked (me, I think), “Do you like seafood?  I know a great place nearby for seafood.”  Then he began telling me about a place we’ve visited many times.  I explained that to him and he insisted on telling me all about it. 

I thought:  What the hell?  Why do you keep interrupting us?  And shut up about the restaurant that I know quite well.

He was like a young child that wants to talk to Mommy when she is talking to another adult.  Usually kids are told, "You have to wait your turn.  Let Mommy finish talking to Susie and then you can tell me what you want to say."

He continued to shout things out in the middle of our conversations.  We tried struggled to be nice.  Don't get me wrong; I have no problems talking to strangers at bars and restaurants.  As long as they act like adults and join in the actual conversation that's going on instead of shouting out unrelated things.

After we were there for a while, I overheard him talking to Bartender R.  Here’s how that conversation went: 

Annoying Loudmouth Guy:  I was brought up Jewish.  But, I had the opportunity and calling to join the Priesthood.  I was going to join the ‘blah blah blah blah blah’ (it was a long, long list of names that I don’t care to remember) seminary in Chicago.

Bartender R (feigning interest):  Well, that’s quite a tongue twister.

ALG:  I was just about to join when I had an epiphany.

BR (rolling his eyes):  That’s interesting.

ALG:  My epiphany was that I’m atheist.  I’m an atheist.

BR (walking away as quickly as he could):  Well, that’s quite the flip-flop isn’t it?

I’m not sure that’s something you tell a complete stranger.  Did he assume that his bartenders cared enough to want to hear that?  Or maybe he thought that because he'd been there for a while (a couple of hours?) he was now best friends with P and R?

I know that the rest of us in the bar weren’t all that interested in his epiphany story.  Until he left.  Then we discussed it (and him) in great detail.

A major vacation crisis!

Also known as “get the hell over it.”

We were just in Mexico for a week at our favorite resort in Puerto Vallarta.

As our usual routine demanded required worked out, we had breakfast one morning and headed to the pool to relax and enjoy the day.  We got to the pool around 9 am.  Unfortunately, the Pool Bar doesn’t open until 11 am.  Why yes, I was ready for a drink at 9 am.  Don't judge.  Thank God Luckily, they have another bar a few hundred feet away (called the Pub Bar).  We like to start our days with a drink called Dirty Monkey.  It’s basically a shake made with brandy, Kahlua, cream, and bananas.  Quite a lovely way to work up to tequila.

Anyway, on to the crisis.

That particular morning I told Angry that I’d go to the bar to get our drinks when we overheard a couple discussing what they were going to get from the bar.  The woman wanted a Bloody Mary and the guy asked her to get him a mimosa.

She walked to the bar just in front of me.  I arrived and heard this conversation:

Bloody Mary Drinking Woman:  I need a Bloody Mary and a mimosa with lots of champagne and very little orange juice.

Sad Looking Bartender:  I’m sorry, we ran out of champagne and the next shipment should arrive in two or three hours.  I’m so sorry.

BMDW (in a flabbergasted voice):  Well, he certainly won’t drink a Bloody Mary.  What am I going to do? What am I going to do?

SLB:  Looked at her with questioning eyes.  Probably thinking, “Does she want me to answer that?”

BMDW:  Oh boy, I don’t know what he’ll want to drink now.  He wanted a mimosa (her voice steadily increasing to a high pitched whine).  If there’s no champagne, I don’t know what do to.

I wanted to say, “Hey lady, the bar is FILLED will different types of booze.  Brandy, rum, tequila, Kahlua, flavored schnapps, vodka, Galliano, gin, scotch, wine, and beer.  That’s a lot to choose from.  If there’s no champagne, why can’t you find one other thing he’d drink?  Plus, there is a huge list of frou-frou drinks you can order.”  However, I kept my trap shut.

She was so upset that she didn’t know what to say or do.  She stood there looking around in a panic as I ordered my drinks.  Her husband eventually made it to the bar and ordered something as I left.  I didn’t hear what it was though and now I’m curious.

I must say that if Angry asked me for a drink and they didn’t have what he wanted, I know him well enough to pick something else that he’d enjoy.  Obviously this was beyond her grasp.

I went back for another Dirty Money a short while later.  A different woman was at the bar asking for mimosas.

The conversation went like this:

Lady In Need Of Mimosas:  I need three mimosas. - NOTE: I'm not sure why she needed three as she was there alone.  I won't judge.

Hard Working Bartender:  We are out of champagne but should get some in about two hours.

LINOM:  Oh OK, I’ll come back in a couple of minutes then.

HWB:  No, I’ll have some in a couple of hours.  Two hours.

LINOM (quite loudly):  TWO HOURS!!??

HWB:  Si, two hours.  I’m sorry but we ran out and the truck won’t deliver until later.

LINOM:  Oh my GOD, what am I going to drink?

The bartender had the same look as before as if he was thinking, “Do you really want me to answer that?”

As she stood there looking panicked, I ordered my drinks, watched them being made, thanked the bartender, and began walking back to our pool chairs.  Meanwhile, she was still mumbling and grumbling about not knowing what to order.

Gosh, a major champagne crisis!  How terribly awful. 

Get the hell over it people and drink something else.

Must this really be a crisis?

More ranting. Can't anyone behave?

Angry and I go to a tanning salon.   We use it year round because it helps the psoriasis on my hands and arms.  We use it more often when we are getting ready for vacation (which we are doing right now).

Our salon is currently doing construction to enlarge.  Thus, you have to wait for a booth to open just about every time you go.  We use the vertical (stand up) booths which are located in rooms right next to the lobby.  You can tell when the booths turn on and off and can hear the radios that are attached to those booths.

When we went last night, we requested the stand ups and sat down to wait.  Meanwhile, there was a woman waiting to use one of the booths we wanted.  It emptied, was cleaned, and she was told she could go ahead and use it.

She heads into the room and takes a phone call.  We can hear her talking (with the other caller on speaker!).  She kept talking, and talking, and talking.  Gee, how about you get your ass into the tanning booth so those of us that are waiting can take our turns?  She would have heard us ask for the stand up booths so she was well aware that people were waiting.  She finally hangs up the phone but spends several minutes tuning the radio to several different stations.  Hey lady, you are going to be in there for 10 lousy minutes; pick a station and get in there!

When the booth turned off, she spent extra time tuning the radio some more while she got dressed.  GET OUT!  People are waiting their turn!

I think I may be turning into that angry old person who tells the kids to “get off my lawn.”  Maybe I wouldn’t be so pissed off if people actually behaved themselves!

Why did they bother?

Angry and I went to see Bryan Adams on Friday for his Bare Bones tour.  He does his set with his guitar and harmonica.  He also has a piano player with him.  We both love his songwriting and his music.  His voice is awesome and his attitude with the fans is great!!  He is very talkative and tells some great stories during the show.

This, however, is not a review of his show.

This is a rant.  Ready?  Go!!

There were four young ladies in front of us at the show.  I’d say they were in their late 20s or very early 30s.  They talked, and talked, and talked all through the entire show.  Not whispering, talking.  Talking during the music, talking during Bryan Adams’ storytelling, talking during times of quiet guitar playing, talking during piano solos.  Yap yap yappity yap.  They even talked after I whispered “Shut the fuck up.”

We were in the 5^th row.  That means they were in the 4^th row.  That means that Bryan Adams had to have heard them during quiet moments of the show.  I would think this had to have been distracting for him.  It was for me.

Why would they bother to pay good money to see a show and talk through the entire thing?  If they wanted to listen to music and gab, they should have stayed home and turned on the radio.

I paid to hear one of my favorite singers and songwriters.

I didn’t pay to hear them talk!

Really? You had to do that?

Do NOT cross the street if you have a don't walk sign (that's the big orange hand in case you were wondering!).  Especially in a busy Downtown intersection with traffic coming at you (and me waiting to make a right turn).

This means you stay on your side of the street!

And, if you decide to be the dumbass who does that; don't walk so slowly that everyone has to wait forever to get through the intersection.

That is all.

You are rude.

I was at my doctor’s office the other day.  They wanted to draw some blood so I traveled a few floors down to the lab.  I waited my in line and checked in.  I took a seat to wait my turn. 

A man, maybe in his mid-40s, was in line to check into the lab.  His cell phone rang and he answered.  The person at the check in desk called out, “I’ll take the next in line” and he stepped to her window.

And there he stood, talking on his cell phone.  Talking, and talking, and talking.  She looked perplexed but she waited for him.

Meanwhile, there were at least 5 people waiting behind him in line.  Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. 

The hospital asks that you turn you cell phones off while in their buildings.  You should not be wasting the time of the person attempting to check you in.  And, you should not be holding up a long line.

If I had been the woman at the desk, I would have waved him away from me and called the next person in line.  If I had been that next person in line, I would have walked right up to the window and shoved him “gently” moved him aside.

What an asshole.

That was some shitty driving!

Yesterday, I was driving behind what may have been the most idiotic person ever.

We were on the freeway where the speed limit is 50 MPH.  We were also in a construction zone which meant I couldn’t pass the asshat.

First of all, he was driving 35 MPH.  Since we were moving so slowly, I had plenty of time to take in the scenery.  I decided to watch him instead.  I noticed that he was holding a cell phone up to his right ear.  One less hand on the steering wheel. 

Suddenly, his left hand was hangin' out the window!  TWO less hand on the steering wheel.  How WAS he steering? 

Then, he slammed on his brakes.  SLAMMED.  He came to a complete stop.  On. The. Freeway.  Since there was no one in front of him, he apparently did this for no good reason.  Maybe he was having some trouble steering? 

Next, he took off like a meteor racing through the sky.  I’d guess he was going at least 65 (sill in the 50 MPH zone right smack in the middle of construction).  Hmmm . . . Maybe the foot he was possibly using to steer slipped off the wheel and onto the gas pedal?

When we finally hit a point where I could pass him, he started swerving in and out of his lane.  I didn’t see the hand hanging out the window anymore but he was still chatting it up on the cell phone.  Distracted, one-handed driving is always a great idea.  No?

Let’s see. . . driving WAY under the speed limit; driving way OVER the speed limit; driving with one hand; driving with NO hands; chitchatting on a cell phone; veering all over the road.  I think he covered the most reckless maneuvers available to drivers.

I’m glad I got away without getting into an accident.  Or maybe not; I would have loved to give this guy a piece of my mind and my foot up his ass.