Older and Wiser
A few signs I’ve noticed that suggest I might be growing OLDer (or, as I prefer to think of it, more mature):
- I refuse to order a TALL cup of anything when what I really want is a SMALL.
- I recently asked for a gift CERTIFICATE rather than a gift CARD.
- I refuse to bag my own groceries at the supermarket.
- I recently walked out of a nationally-recognized sub shop without making a purchase when confronted with a place-your-own-order computer kiosk (and I noticed that the woman who entered the store behind me did the same thing).
- I refuse to use the self-checkout lines at the supermarket.
posted by John L. Trapp at
5/15/2007 05:57:00 PM
6 Comments:
...older and ornier methinkest;
(personally, I just intend to stay 39-1/2 forever)
sorry John, I think I mispelled that -- should've been "ornerier" (...my spelling might be confused with hornier by some folks ;-)
That comment takes me back to my Aleutian years. George Putney, the captain of the Aleutian Tern, the boat that we used to get around the islands, always referred to Horned Puffins as Horny Puffins (he thought it was a great joke), and I suppose they were at the particular season of the year that we plied the waters adjacent to their breeding colonies.
I get incredibly peeved at the lack of customer service and professionalism that assaults me every day. Some broad at the doc's office this a.m., with a scoop-necked shirt. Everytime she bent over, we all got an unwanted look at her goods (OK, maybe the guys wanted a look, but even they thought it was unprofessional). I quietly said something to her and she looked at me like I was nuts. Sorry, but I don't want to see your ta-tas, girls, tits, boobs, honkers, hooters, or any other part of your anatomy at the doc's office or any place of business. If I want to see that, I'll go to a strip club. I mentioned it to the doc and he didn't seem at all perturbed by it (guess he likes the freebie looks). What do you expect from an office that books 11 people for 8:30 a.m., the staff straggles in at 8:29, and not one of them smiles or greets the patients or acknowledges their presence ("Hi, we'll be with you in a moment") - would that be so bloody hard to do? Makes me want to stay in my house and never leave.
At while I am at it, how about the archetypically "I'm the only/most important person in the world" Washingtonienne in the grocery store the other day, who literally interrupted me between "blue" and "berry" (yes, mid word!) when I was asking a question of the bakery counter clerk (who had ignored me for 5 minutes while placing pastries on a tray. Whatever happened to "live customers are the priority" and "wait your turn?"
Grump, grump, grump.
Amen brother! Grumpy OLDer men unite!
Grumpy OLDer men unite!
I like that! But having known some pretty grumpy maturish women over the years, I think we need to amend that to Grumpy OLDer Folks Unite!
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