I pride myself on being a fairly tolerant individual. There are times behind the bar at Greene's Ale House when customers, both intentionally and unintentionally, test my patience. But being the level headed person who I am, I can usually defuse a situation before I become overly agitated. Never let them see you sweat, right? In fact, in times of turmoil I have often been called upon to act as the voice of reason.
However, there are certain situations that really chap my ass. I guess pet peeves would be a more accurate description. The following are just a few examples of actions or events that really get my goat.
Let's start with a fashion faux pas. I'm referring to those of you who chose to put on a tank top before heading to the golf course. I'm no golf snob, far from it in fact. But put a friggin' shirt on for crying out loud. Preferably, it would be a collared shirt. However, wearing a clean t-shirt on a public course, would be sufficient.
Nobody, and I mean nobody, wants to see your 'man boobs' hanging out when you're bent over on the green, lining up a putt. Now I can hit the ball from the tee box a hell of a long way when I get a hold of a driver. I just don't see any reason why I should have to show off my Adonis-like body with a tank top. When someone witnesses one of my 300+ yard drives they have a pretty good idea of what my "guns" look like beneath my sleeves.
For the ladies, these rules do not apply. Feel free to wear a tasteful tank top while you're chasing the little white ball around the course. By tasteful I mean something really tight that accentuates your voluptuous cleavage. Such attire serves a dual purpose as well. While its nice for the guys to admire your "form", a tight shirt will keep the "puppies" from interfering with your back swing and follow through. You're just gonna have to trust me on this one. I personally guarantee it will shave strokes off of your scorecard.
Another thing that drives me nuts occurs when someone places a telephone call, and when I answer they say:
"Who's this?"
Well asshole, aren't you the one who just called me? Use some manners and politely address the person who has answered your call. Simply request, by name, the party you were intending to reach in the first place. I can't tell you how many times this has happened to me at work. I understand that I work in a public place with many other co-workers. But that's no excuse for being too lazy or too stoned to remember who you just dialed. The only circumstance that I will concede to is in the event that you are drunk dialing for a late night booty call. It's quite possible that you either can't remember who it is you are trying to reach, or you have forgotten that you've already called them.
On to #3. Simply put, I am not a big fan of yard sales. I'm not against people having a flea market spread across their lawn in the middle of the Summer. It can be a lucrative opportunity to peddle a bunch of shit that you no longer want or need. You'll just never catch me hosting such an event.
Don't get me wrong, they are good for some things. You can score a great deal of desirable items within the realm of furniture, electronics, or baby items, such as used car seats. Some of these items still have value.
I do however, have a bit of an issue with adult clothing for sale. If your shit is too outdated for you, then it is probably no longer stylish for anyone else either. So please just toss your pit stained leisure suit and bell bottom pants in the trash for god's sake. If you've had a dramatic change in your size, due to weight gain or loss, there are a whole bunch of other options for your tangled wears. Drop them off at Good Will or The Salvation Army. At least that way you can write off the donation on your taxes and maintain some sort of dignity.
I could not handle having a yard sale. My psyche is way too fragile to deal with the rejection. I've never gotten a grasp on how people can stand idly by while perfect strangers pick through your shit, that is priced ridiculously low, and they still don't purchase anything. If your crap was worth a damn don't you think you friends or relatives would gladly take that junk off your hands for a reasonable fee?
When your "garbage" doesn't sell, the public is basically saying that they can't afford new stuff, and your half priced shit isn't good enough for them either. That's enough to drive a person to drink. (Which by the way, if this does happen to you in the future, Greene's is located at 104 W. Bridge St in Oswego, NY. I know that's a shameless plug, but if I might say, the Happy Hour is very reasonably priced ).
Lastly, I have a huge problem with regards to the behavior of large crowds at concerts and sporting events. One behavior, in particular, takes the cake. People that scream WOOOOOO at concerts, as well as games, are incredibly annoying to me. What the hell does WOOOOO actually translate to in the English language? I think it means you're an ass-napkin that cannot come up with anything more intelligent or relevant to yell at any given time during your drunken stupor. Celebrate your favorite ball player or singer's achievement by whistling or clapping really loud. You can even sing along if the song kicks ass that much. Go nuts! Just enough of the god damn WOOOOOING!
I hate to single out the shorties, but you know damn well its always the female gender, especially at concerts, belting out the WOO. And isn't it always the borderline attractive or "beer pretty" broad too? You all know the type. She'll be undoubtedly adorned in a torn denim jacket with big hair from the 1980's. That's the person giving you ladies a bad name. It may have been acceptable 25 years ago, but try to adapt to the times. Ditch the leg-warmers and lose the feathered bangs. While you're at it take that ridiculously looking roach clip out of you hair with the orange feathers hanging off of it from a string. You might be at a STYX concert, but it's 2010 for Christ sakes. LIVE IN THE NOW!
There. I feel better already. If you'll excuse me, I just caught a glimpse of an interesting ad in the local paper. It seems there's a garage sale in town featuring items that include golf clubs. With any luck there will be some sleeved shirts to choose from as well. If I could just recall the person's name so I don't have to respond "Who's this?" when they pick up the phone.
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