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1) Cheap people. Not poor people, I'm talking about people with momey who are cheap. Buy cheap stuff. Talk about splitting the check by percentage, not what they ordered. Tip badly. I do not know how cheap people do not know that their alligator arms (too short to find their wallets) are the talk of the table they sup at.
2) People who abuse customer service. I work in customer service. People have said things to me over the phone they would not say in person--personal things that were none of my business to hear, nor their business to say to me, and which made no impact on what I could or could not do for them. I've have been told I was a bureaucrat, a robot, "too nice" (?!)(No, really, because I said I was "sorry" I could not be of more assistance. My apology was an affront.) and a bitch (when the caller did not know I was still on the line) all because I couldn't carry out their idea of what my job actually entailed, and told them exactly what I could do for them, and that anything else exceeded my capabilities. If a customer service person can't: refund your money, give you an abatement of a penalty, transfer you to a manager immediately, or solve your problem in a minute, this does not mean they aren't doing their job. Chewing them out isn't getting you any better service, or helping them help you any better. Sometimes the best thing you can do with a customer service person is ask: what is the best thing we can do? Without expectations. Then you will actually be told the best thing that can be done. I also hate people who chew out cashiers and waitpersons. Much of the time, they are just dealing with policy, and have just dealt with enough customers for the day without one more in their face. (I have also been a cashier, and a store manager. Help me help you--it's all I ask!)
3) That one Reality show, I think it's called "To Tell the Truth"? You know the one I mean, it has these people come on and they get hooked up to a lie-detector, and then they get asked questions in front of their closest loved ones, a studio audience, and a potential tv audience of millions. I do not get this show. These people are often awful people with bad secrets who should not make the tv audience their confessional. I do not see going on a such a show without being a shut-in or a convent-school girl. But the people who seriously do go on turn out to be skanks and liars and stuff--ew! And of course, since I explained it so well, you now know I watched a couple episodes.
But I hated them!
4) Panty hose. I have said this before and I will say it until I convert every woman to my doctrine, and even drag queens--panty hose are awful. They fit nobody, no matter what the back of the package says. No one is really an A, a B, or a Q. Short or tall, you will find your crotch and panty hose do not align, ever. If tall, the crotch will ride below your actual crotch and force you to walk like John Wayne. Having descended from a very tall horse. If short, you will hitch the panty hose up to some near-boob level that will conflict with any waist-line you would like to have.
Panty hose are inexpensive, yet still a waste of money. They run, most unpredictably. The trick of halting a run with hairspray or nail polish is shite--the chemicals ultimately dissolve the nylon and you then have something sticky on your leg. And a good-sized run. Control top panty hose are a freaking abomination. They only smoosh one's avoirdupois up into a great roll just under one's bosom. To create a nice Michellin-Man effect. They also leave nasty pink pressure marks where the elastic rubs one's tender midsection. Evil, is what they are.
5) Under-wire brassieres. I am a 38-DD. There is scarcely any brassiere I can get which does not have underwires, but they are wrong and bad and I don't like them or see the necessity of them--to wit:
The root of my boobs themselves will not sag, and yet the wire is flush against my ribcage--very flush. Stabbingly so. No, it's my actual sticking-out bits that might sag, and only really super-stretchy fabrics will address that problem. Also, I do not need my boobs to be trained. The underwires perhaps purport to face the boobs in the correct direction--they already do so! Where else would they go--under my armpit? I don't spend *that* much time on my back! The underwire bra does little more than dig in to my uncomfortable places and make me adjust my breasticles whenever I think no one's looking. Not attractive.
6) Republicans who can't discuss why or how they are Republican. I know why and how I am a Democrat. I was politically aware from the earliest age. I identified with Eleanor Roosevelt, and JFK, and RFK, and also, with Mondale--here's a glimpse into Vixengrl mentality:
My parents got me a little black and white tv when I was about ten. I put it on a metal folding chair, dragged the folding shair close to my bed, and would watch tv into the wee hours with my covers tented over my head and the screen so as to let no light out, and with the sound turned way down low. I watched "The Day After" that way. I watched The Reagan/Mondale debates that way--and realized that what Mondale was saying made more sense to me. What did that mean?
I realized also, when I read the Philadelphia Daily News, that I enjoyed the Molly Ivins features more than the Cal Thomas ones--what was I finding out?
I was learning that I was a Democrat, and always would be one. My dad was kind of a Reagan Democrat, and my mom, I have discovered, a kind of classic liberal. But I was leftist, and populist, even with the conventional Alex P Keaton-types around me (Like, um, elementary school and junior high are surprising bastions of conformity. This is why bras get snapped and racist riots occur in lunchrooms. Ideology, paranoia, stereotypes, amplified by hormones, are the order of the day.) I realized that government was a machine that should serve the people, not just particular persons or industries. It was for the common good.
I have not heard any Republican ever explain their journey--if they did it's "Mum and Dad were Republicans, and since I'm...(Religion, class, duh) I vote Republican too." I have never expected that it took much thought.
7) Large Vehicles piloted by uninvolved technozombies. Imagine a Jeep Cherokee piloted by a small female with a cell phone to her head. She is involved in deep meaningful conversaton about the episode of "To Tell the Truth" she saw the night before, and her pantyhose are creeping up on her. In her rearview mirror, which she only just glanced at, she might have seen me, in my little sensible Honda Civic. She thinks she needs to merge. I speed up to pace her, and she's going at whatever speed....she should really get behind me...she's on the ramp and I'm on the highway--
"But OMG! Did you see that girl on 'To Tell the Truth', she was such a skank, in front of her boyfriend, let me just fiddle with my CD player...
"Brooks and Dunn...that's better. I'm totally late for work, because the guy in front of me in the Dunkin' Domuts, you now? He was taking his good time ordering because he was all like, I need two of everything for my work..and, now I totally need to speed my ass off!
"OMG! Where did that little car come from that was always there that I almost crushed? I so totally need to tailgate her car now--want a play-by-play? I am really going to kiss her bumper, or no I'm not, but I totally am! Here I go!"
And I'm now in the fast lane to avoid her, with another large vehicle up my rear, trying not to be smacked by dumbasses in big vehicles. No wonder I do 80mph all the time.
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