Post- Christocalypse

Prior to the holiday season, I like to take a second job, usually in retail. Most people think this is insane due to the high volume of over caffeinated, stressed-out-from-keeping-up-with-the-Jones, can't-put-their-iPhones-down shoppers. They are usually so pre-occupied with the additional 5 lbs they have packed on, their maxed out credit cards and asking themselves why they are spending money on a spoiled nephew who they never see and who won't appreciate it, that they can't see anything past their own noses. There are a lot of those people but honestly, they shop all year round and are not a seasonal novelty. The majority of the sea of humanity that I see, are actually improved during the holiday season. They say "please" and "thank you" more, they offer to let someone with just a few things go ahead of them in line, and they understand that sales people are particularly overwhelmed and have just a little more patience with us. Then Christmas comes, with all the warm fuzzy feelings that the lights and glitter of the holiday can possibly give us and the mayhem seems worth it because the time with our families is priceless. However; when the lights come down and the glitter is swept into a neat 75% off corner, something happens. Suddenly, everyone's patience has been pushed beyond it's limit and they simultaneous snap like a giant rubber band. It's like a post-Christmas sale apocalypse. Usually mild mannered housewives, become soldiers of fortune armed with over-sized handbags and sharp tongues. They walk in the door, cell phone firmly attached to their face, sometimes with exhausted toddlers or husbands as POW's. Their warpaint is lipstick and mascara and their scowl can clear a room full of hardened criminals. They scream and rant over parking spaces, return policies (which are clearly printed on the back of most receipts), misplaced (usually by customers) and mismarked (usually by exhausted employees who don't get paid enough to care that much) sale items. True, it is the last sale of 2009 but there will be all new sales in 2010. All the same cheap crap they didn't really need this year, will go on sale next year. Trust me, there are little factories in China that are already mass producing the 'one-of-kind' (fill in the blank) that they missed the sale on this year.
So, before you stamp your feet and demand to speak to a manager, think about this "Is your life really going to be better if you have (again, fill it in), or are you just making yourself look like a giant ass?" Before you berade another sales person/waitress/customer support professional ask yourself "Will this ultimatley help me accomplish my goal or will this just give the waiter an excellent reason to spit in my food?"

First

I am the only female in the office where I work. In some ways this is a blessing, for instance, I don't have to share the bathroom with anyone. Sometimes however; it is not a blessing. Boys are, by nature messy creatures. It doesn't bother them in the least if the entire microwave is coated with a cooked on mixture of various soups, chili, hamburger helper and Chef Boyardie's finest culinary masterpieces. I found that I was the only one who cared about the condition of the microwave enough to clean it. I've had a similar problem at home, for which I found an excellent solution: one of those covers. I purchased one a brought it into the office only to find that the microwave was still getting splattered with what I sincerely hope was alfredo sauce. How can this be? They were putting the food ON TOP of the cover. I work with programmers, engineers and electronics techs. EPIC FAIL!

It's not exactly a book...

I find that I have an inordinate amount of time on my hands at work which means lots of time to think about the people, places and things that annoy the hell out of me. One day I posted "I'm going to write a book called "Dealing with Dillholes" on my Facebook wall and people I haven't heard from in years replied. Don't the wrong idea. I don't sit around and think about all the annoying things that happen to me all day long, I'm generally a pretty cheerful individual. But my Facebook post got me thinking, we as a society are so self-involved that we often forget ourselves and our manners. I've decided, as sort of a PSA, to blog about our absentmindedness (and other stuff), in hopes that through self examination we can all become just a little more conciencious (there may also be a chuckle or two, but only incidentally). I'd like to follow that up with a disclaimer: I, in no way think of myself as an expert on manners. I've caught myself on many occassions being very discourteous. All I'm saying is, on those occassions when I catch myself being a real B!%*$, or even when someone is bold enough to call me out on it, I'd like to think that the next time I find myself in a similiar circumstance, I handle it with a little more grace than the previous episode. So it isn't a book, and it'll never be a New York Times Best Seller, but here it is, Dealing with Dillholes.