(no subject)
You know what I hate [today]?
Ambiguous lines.
There is nothing I hate more than walking into a fancy restaurant [read: fast-food place] and seeing that they have two or more registers open, in front of a weird conglomeration of people.
Is this one line?
Is this six lines?
There's no way to know.
So you get in back of furthest back person, assuming that this will hence place you as the current person in line. But then someone comes in behind you, and they move to your right or left.
That's not how this works! You are not here before me. You get behind me. This is not some weird game of Guess The Register You Want To Partake In. This is a line. A queue. You get your service in the order in which you arrive. Get behind me.
And no matter what you do, it's wrong.
You start off in line A, which is equidistant from the counter with lines B and C. But then line B starts moving more rapidly than A! So you sidestep over to the right to get into line B. But suddenly, line B has hot a wall because some 55 year old Spazmatic Adjustable Sped has decided they have 13 coupons and will pay the residual cost in confederate scorpion nickels. And now line A and C are both breezing past...with people that came in AFTER you did.
So you try to position yourself between the lines. You think it's only fair to be quasi-in front of the people that came after you, and by standing between lines, you are hedging your bets between two registers. But guess what? The people at lines A, B, and C don't see your order-of-queue line. To them, you are in null line. You are in the "I'm looking at the menu and not really here" line.
So you know this, and you try to circumvent in. You see the multiple lines, but you think "NO!, I'm going to hang back, funneling myself to a tip as 'Next Person' and the subsequent arrivers will stand behind me".
But it doesn't work!
No matter how hard you try to vaguely box them out with your shoulders or elbows, new people will just walk around you to line A, B, or C. They don't know that you are TRYING TO PERSERVE THE ORDER OF THINGS. They think you are lost. Or homeless. Or stalking the cute counter girl.
BUT YOU'RE NOT. You are trying to make the madness end. The person who entered Chick Fil A does NOT get to order before the person that entered 5 minutes before him. THAT IS NOT THE WAY THINGS WORK. But because they have 5 separate quasi-ambiguous lines, this is what happens!
More places need to get themselves "select a number" technology. I refuse to believe that deli counters have cornered the market on this technology. You walk up. You pull a tab. It tells you when it is your turn. Johnny-Come-Latelies get higher numbers, and they wait longer. Or, at least, a proportional amount. Or they create some kind of waiting herd, instead of the multiple whack-a-mole line scheme. Like a big sign: "When you get here, mill about in the middle of the floor. Our plebeians will call out 'I can help the next person', and then you come up in the order you arrived. Trying to sneak up early will result in our pouring hot grease on your sex organs".
I got my new shirts and ties. I went one black, and one crimson; the sexy aspect of the deep crimson beat out the slick aspect of the lavender. I want to take them out, and get out my suit and take some hawtness pictures, but more than that, I want to keep them folded and neat in their package box until I need them (long from now, I guess. I need to find someone to go out to snazzy parties with).
So I probably will not have any pictures coming in the new future unless I land a new job interview out of nowhere (which, even then, you kind of HAVE to go white undershirt for an interview. You don't want to go out there screaming charisma and personality--You don't want your outfit to say "I'm here to take this job, and sleep with all my new female co-workers". Not on the first interview. That's the second interview, especially if the interviewer is hot. I would ALWAYS PASS that interview.
"How long do you see yourself staying with us?"
"Oh, I can stay a long...looong time. I'm very attentive to...my job."
"TAKE ME. ...I mean, the job. Take the job. By the way, close the office door, please.")
What the hell is wrong with this entry? I was two steps away from the shower when I decided to put the kibosh on that and come write THIS nonsense.
ADDENDUM: I JUST GOT ATTACKED BY FUCKING DOGS.
I was out walking, getting my fresh air and fitness in for the day, and as I got to the end of this one block, I saw two golden retriever come running out the back of this yard, barking at me.
Naturally, I thought "They must be chained up there, but damn...they look mean".
But they weren't chained or secured to anything! So they just charged me, snarling and snapping. I managed to flail my arms like a girl well enough to protect myself, but I did get a very, very small snip taken out of my thumb. Seriously...it's tiny. But I was like "OMG RABIES!". Eventually I yelled at them enough and pushed them away enough and backed off enough, that they turned and ran back a different way that they came.
My FIRST reaction was to walk a new direction to avoid them. So I started doing that.
THEN my second reaction was to go the way they went and see if I could find them so I could beat the living shit out of them.
THEN THEN my third reaction (when I couldn't find the dogs) was to go home and put peroxide on this bite.
My current reaction is to go back out and find them again. If I'm not trying to protect my iPod and I'm ready for them, I could totes pwn two stupid golden retrievers. Absolutely. I really want to avenge myself, because my initial "WHOA DOGS" response was to freak out like a little girl. Hee.
My hands smell like dog slobber. Yuck. That was the worst walk ever.
Ambiguous lines.
There is nothing I hate more than walking into a fancy restaurant [read: fast-food place] and seeing that they have two or more registers open, in front of a weird conglomeration of people.
Is this one line?
Is this six lines?
There's no way to know.
So you get in back of furthest back person, assuming that this will hence place you as the current person in line. But then someone comes in behind you, and they move to your right or left.
That's not how this works! You are not here before me. You get behind me. This is not some weird game of Guess The Register You Want To Partake In. This is a line. A queue. You get your service in the order in which you arrive. Get behind me.
And no matter what you do, it's wrong.
You start off in line A, which is equidistant from the counter with lines B and C. But then line B starts moving more rapidly than A! So you sidestep over to the right to get into line B. But suddenly, line B has hot a wall because some 55 year old Spazmatic Adjustable Sped has decided they have 13 coupons and will pay the residual cost in confederate scorpion nickels. And now line A and C are both breezing past...with people that came in AFTER you did.
So you try to position yourself between the lines. You think it's only fair to be quasi-in front of the people that came after you, and by standing between lines, you are hedging your bets between two registers. But guess what? The people at lines A, B, and C don't see your order-of-queue line. To them, you are in null line. You are in the "I'm looking at the menu and not really here" line.
So you know this, and you try to circumvent in. You see the multiple lines, but you think "NO!, I'm going to hang back, funneling myself to a tip as 'Next Person' and the subsequent arrivers will stand behind me".
But it doesn't work!
No matter how hard you try to vaguely box them out with your shoulders or elbows, new people will just walk around you to line A, B, or C. They don't know that you are TRYING TO PERSERVE THE ORDER OF THINGS. They think you are lost. Or homeless. Or stalking the cute counter girl.
BUT YOU'RE NOT. You are trying to make the madness end. The person who entered Chick Fil A does NOT get to order before the person that entered 5 minutes before him. THAT IS NOT THE WAY THINGS WORK. But because they have 5 separate quasi-ambiguous lines, this is what happens!
More places need to get themselves "select a number" technology. I refuse to believe that deli counters have cornered the market on this technology. You walk up. You pull a tab. It tells you when it is your turn. Johnny-Come-Latelies get higher numbers, and they wait longer. Or, at least, a proportional amount. Or they create some kind of waiting herd, instead of the multiple whack-a-mole line scheme. Like a big sign: "When you get here, mill about in the middle of the floor. Our plebeians will call out 'I can help the next person', and then you come up in the order you arrived. Trying to sneak up early will result in our pouring hot grease on your sex organs".
I got my new shirts and ties. I went one black, and one crimson; the sexy aspect of the deep crimson beat out the slick aspect of the lavender. I want to take them out, and get out my suit and take some hawtness pictures, but more than that, I want to keep them folded and neat in their package box until I need them (long from now, I guess. I need to find someone to go out to snazzy parties with).
So I probably will not have any pictures coming in the new future unless I land a new job interview out of nowhere (which, even then, you kind of HAVE to go white undershirt for an interview. You don't want to go out there screaming charisma and personality--You don't want your outfit to say "I'm here to take this job, and sleep with all my new female co-workers". Not on the first interview. That's the second interview, especially if the interviewer is hot. I would ALWAYS PASS that interview.
"How long do you see yourself staying with us?"
"Oh, I can stay a long...looong time. I'm very attentive to...my job."
"TAKE ME. ...I mean, the job. Take the job. By the way, close the office door, please.")
What the hell is wrong with this entry? I was two steps away from the shower when I decided to put the kibosh on that and come write THIS nonsense.
ADDENDUM: I JUST GOT ATTACKED BY FUCKING DOGS.
I was out walking, getting my fresh air and fitness in for the day, and as I got to the end of this one block, I saw two golden retriever come running out the back of this yard, barking at me.
Naturally, I thought "They must be chained up there, but damn...they look mean".
But they weren't chained or secured to anything! So they just charged me, snarling and snapping. I managed to flail my arms like a girl well enough to protect myself, but I did get a very, very small snip taken out of my thumb. Seriously...it's tiny. But I was like "OMG RABIES!". Eventually I yelled at them enough and pushed them away enough and backed off enough, that they turned and ran back a different way that they came.
My FIRST reaction was to walk a new direction to avoid them. So I started doing that.
THEN my second reaction was to go the way they went and see if I could find them so I could beat the living shit out of them.
THEN THEN my third reaction (when I couldn't find the dogs) was to go home and put peroxide on this bite.
My current reaction is to go back out and find them again. If I'm not trying to protect my iPod and I'm ready for them, I could totes pwn two stupid golden retrievers. Absolutely. I really want to avenge myself, because my initial "WHOA DOGS" response was to freak out like a little girl. Hee.
My hands smell like dog slobber. Yuck. That was the worst walk ever.