It’s January. I’ve just returned to the real world having spent a delightful time away from my everyday. I got to hang out with my family, both nuclear and extended. I had a DELIGHTFUL conversation with one of my uncles, officiated at my cousin’s wedding, walked in the woods, ate my weight is food… what could I possibly have to rant about?!?
I’m so very glad you asked!
People who can’t park
I mean, really! Everyday I watch people (OK, guys in stupid-large pickup trucks called “Raptor” or “PowerWagon” or “BigOleHonkinMericanSteel” or some such) utterly mangle their parking job. Largely because they insist on backing into the space. This, despite three factors:
- There are dozens and dozen of available spaces, most of which would afford them the chance to pull through, winding up facing “out” without the inevitable forthing-and-backing (And backing. And forthing.), so that when the imminent zombie apocalypse (it’s always the dammed zombies, isn’t it?) arrives they’ll be the first to pull out of the Tractor Supply parking lot and head to high ground.
- It’s a fully packed lot/busy time of the day, and there are too many people for them to be farting around trying to wedge their overcompensating vee-hickle into The Only. Possible. Space. For. Their. Precious. Oh, just PARK, fear crying out loud!
- They don’t actually know how to park Their Precious, but think they do (kinda like Sally in “When Harry Met Sally” – “You don’t think you’re high maintenance, but you are. ‘Waiter, I’d like the dressing on the side.’ On the side is very big with you.”). To quote one of my favorite principals on Instagram, “OH GOOD LOOOOOOOOOORD!!!”!
Just. Park.
Forgetting the one thing I really went to the store to get
Yes, it’s my rant and I’ll rant about my idiocy if I want to! But oh, Lord preserve us! EVERY time I think to myself, “Oh! Good! There are things on the list in the list app on my phone that I take everywhere and is practically surgically attached to my person, so I can go get the one thing I really want to go get, how convenient to have this excuse!” I completely forget to put that ONE THING onto the @%#@^#^@%^#ing list on the app on my phone that’s with me everywhere night and day.
Every
Time
Grrr.
Spam Phone Calls
Enough said.
Technology
More specifically, technology in cars. Even more specifically, my car. Look, I know this will upset someone out there, but I blame West Virginia. See, there was this one soccer tournament trip where, as soon as I drove across the border between Virginia and West (by God!) Virginia, the electricians in my car completely flaked out. Now, look, it’s not because it’s a British sports car (well, sedan. But a sports sedan!) (And yeah, ok, it’s also a Jaguar, but that NOT it, I swear, it’s ^&%$%&^%#$@#$%@%ing West Virginia’s fault!). But since that trip, the infotainment system has never been the same (and I have witnesses! Both my wife and a son experienced this! I am NOT making this up!). Yesterday it decided it was going to recognize neither the USB nor the Bluetooth connections to/from my phone.
Yeah, yeah. I hear you telling me to go back and read that ‘graph over again and check your over-privileged white a$$ before you come and wreck same. One, you’re not wrong. And two, it’s my rant…
In World War II the pilots and crew of fighter planes and bomber would refer to the Foo Fighters (from whence the band gets it’s name) as the root cause of the problems encountered during a flight, even after having inspected and verified the part that is now completely useless was, in fact, certified as fully operational and tested mere moments ago. Foo Fighters. Gremlins. Whatever. My car is infested with them (Both, in all likelihood), and it drives me bonkers when stuff like this happens. I blame West Virginia.
Whew! I feel better. But what about you? Rant in the comments! Shared pain is diminished, and sometime someone else’s rant is funny and makes us laugh. And you can’t be angry when you laugh. So rant, and make us laugh!