Sharkboy

I don’t think they answer is yes, but man, am I seeing my share of it these last few days…

Of course, my job doesn’t really help, not that I don’t like what I’m doing, I love it, I revel in it… but still, there are a lot of people on the “not so normal” side that show up and will use their time at the counter as their own personal platform to shoot the crazy at you… and if you dare not agree, they’ll remind you that they pay your salary through taxes… which I’m always quick to respond that I too pay taxes and therefore am my own boss too in their own logic… that’s when I don’t decide to be a real dick and ask them for a raise… People have their opinion and if they choose my counter to vent, I enjoy listening and will nod in agreement as long as they remain somewhat polite and don’t start yelling… See, crazy can be entertaining… Now, I’m not talking about the majority of people, most come in, do what they have to do and leave, most wish us a good day too. I’m talking about the ones who are running away from aliens, the ones who want to know if you can travel to the states by train with a cat and can you smoke in the train and if not, how long before you stop and smoke. I’m talking about the ones who felt so persecuted by the officer who gave them their ticket that they will go to law school to get the fucker back and totally win in court, those same who try to use big legal words to try and impress you but fail miserably at pronouncing them correctly… These people are always fun… but still… crazy.

Yesterday, was a bit of a day like this… but the afternoon brought the angry crazies… the passive-aggressives… the one who ask for something, you do it, they change their minds and want something else, then when you explain that you have to do this and this before making the change, they go all: “fine… don’t do it… I don’t care” usually followed by a few swear words at their departure… These are the same people that are given a choice between 3 options, you can only choose one, but still, they want #3, then #1, then #2, then #2 & #3 and you stand there waiting until the crazy stops, looking at them without blinking because you can’t figure them out… Are they joking or are they really not all there? Or even better when they give you attitude because you won’t tell them what they should do, I always answer that I cannot tell them what to do but only recite their options… It’s not like they have that many to choose from, it’s not like I made them come to court, so I dig and ask why they decided to come to our office that day and they go on about injustice and the such, then it’s decided, they want to plead Not Guilty, option #3 it is… I didn’t tell them what to do, I just prodded deeper and found out what they wanted… not a science, I’m aware of that, but it works most times.

Thing is, that’s usually the good crazy that I see… I like going to work, I like being around it.

The other crazy is mostly found on the streets of Toronto… The ones who were thrown a curved ball and decide it’s your problem to deal with it. The ones who stand at a street corner and call you a faggot then ask if you have money to spare. The ones who yell on the sidewalks for a major part of the evening and night. The ones who are so angry or stoned or drunk they’ll decide to cross a street on a red light just because they feel they can, causing near accidents in the busy corners of the downtown core. The ones that bring an amplifier to sing about jesus in front of Eaton Centre, and when I say sing I mean wailing at the top of their fucking lungs. I always hope we run out of oxygen in those specific times. I’m talking about the religious assholes who think their agenda is more important than yours and force their bible in your face. I’m talking about the walking trash who would rather be your immediate problem than trying to do something about it, I keep telling them they better use the service they still have access too before they’re gone forever…

And then there’s the sort of crazy I can’t get a grip on… Like a particular individual and his brother who decide to go on a diet and it makes the media because he’s “someone important”. They call him brave for stepping on a scale in front of cameras. They applaud his effort of wanting to eat healthier… 2 things, 1. this is a media stunt to try and soften the blows of the next 3 following days of voting the new budget when they will cut down services and jobs and prepare the final step in their very well rehearsed plan in locking out it’s employee, and 2. Three quarters of the city of Toronto went on a diet after the holidays, that didn’t make news… It’s just something people do for themselves, to feel better…

So, does Toronto = crazy? No, not really, but man, the crazies sure get a lot of airplay in my eyes.

I’m in line at SOUP IT UP for lunch today. They sell soups. That’s what they sell. If you want soup for lunch, you go to SOUP IT UP.

So get this. I’m in line and the woman in front of me was so busy gossiping about Jackie on the phone with her bitchy friend that when it was her time to order she just said:

Bitch: “I’ll have the soup”
Me: (in my head) “What the fuck!!!”
Server: (in her head) “What the fuck!!!”
Server: “Huh… which one would you prefer?”
Bitch: “The one on special”
Server: “If I can have you read the board, we have 7 different kind of soup today, and we also have a nice chili”
Bitch: “Which one is the most popular?”
Server: “They’re all popular”
Bitch: “Do you have any creamy soups?”
Server: “Yes we do” then looking at me with a desire to kill she added “Maybe if you want to review our daily choices, I can help the next customer?”
Bitch: “I’ll have that one” (pointing to the vegetable and noodle soup)
Server: “Which bread would you prefer?”
Bitch: “I don’t take the bread is it cheaper?”
Server: “It comes with the soup, it’s not cheaper if you don’t get it”
Bitch: “I’ll take the small one then”

And blah blah blah it went until it was finally my turn… So what did I do? Yeah, you guessed it, I said: “I’ll have the soup”

If you want something, don’t play charades, just use your words.

This happened the other day while I was waiting to order my Personal Grande Bold at Starbucks. There were 5 people in front of me, I was running a bit late that morning and the place was packed, the employees were doing their best to run the place but it was one of those mornings when a Venti Bold or Tall Mild was not cutting it, it seemed everyone was into skinny mocha blah blah blah soy blah blah blah I’m fucking Important blah blah blah double shot blah blah blah extra hot drink… So they were running around like crazy. All this time, there was this guy at the counter where they keep the milk and lids who was waving an empty container of cream in the air. Yep, it was empty. Drama. He continued to do that the entire time I was waiting to order. Now, 99% of people wouldn’t be bothered by this, but me, that’s a different story. I like order and when my eyes keep being pulled in one direction for a clown who thinks he’s that important that people should serve him, I get uncontrollably annoyed. So when it was finally my turn, I gave my clean empty traveling mug to the barista and said: “Personal Grande Bold. AND some milk for that guy over there before he lays on your floor from the stroke he’s about to get”. The barista looked at the direction my eyes were pointed and started to laugh. She immediately went to the fridge, picked up a fresh container and brought it to the guy. In the meantime, the lady that had just ordered in front of me turned to say and gave me a disapproving look because maybe I hadn’t mind my own business so I said to her: “Well, use your words when you want something, that’s how it all works”. She said: “Maybe he’s deaf?”. To which I shut up her by saying: “No, Deaf people are a lot more resourceful than this clown. A deaf person would have gotten milk without using words without me even noticing anything was wrong at the milk counter”.

Fuck off bitch with your would-be explanations for everything. That guy was an ass then, he’s still an ass now and the only reason he finally got cream in his fucking coffee is because someone finally used their words. Me.. out of annoyance.

I was serving a young lady the other day at work. Way too much makeup on her pretty face and an attitude that sucks more than a hoover. Let’s just say she wasn’t pleasant and got the service to go with her attitude. Which is basic minimum help.

When I reviewed her application with her so she could answer the questions she hadn’t, she, and her other slutty friend, started making fun of my accent. Now, I don’t hear an accent when I speak but enough people tell me I do to know I have one. It’s fine, I’d find it charming if I was on the other side of the window. But these two bitches just started rolling their R’s pronouncing their TH sounds like a Z the way a Parisian would sound in a movie. And they both thought it was pretty funny.

There isn’t much I can do about it, I can’t slap them silly and bring them back to reality the way it would be in my perfect world but I like to be included in the joke and not be a part of it…

Me: “That’s very cute what you’re doing, making fun of someone more educated than you. Just how many languages do you speak”
Her: “Huh…”
Me: “That’s what I thought.”

That same day, a lady was at the office with her two teenage sons. When I say teenage, I mean almost adult, one was probably 17 or 18, as tall as I am, the other just a tad yonger. While she was being served, they were sitting in the front row punching each other one after the other, harder every turn and making that “ouch” sound as they were rubbing the part of the arm that would most likely bruise up. When that game was over, they started slapping each others legs, a big slap here and a bigger slap there accompanied by more sounds of hurtfulness… Then they interlocked their fingers and started this game of twisting the wrists until one was on his knees begging the other one to stop. The mother was absolutely not hearing or seeing any of it. So I had to say very loudly: “CHILDREN. SIT DOWN” and I accompanied that with my famous raised-highbrow face, to which they both stopped and sat down with their backs up straight like you would if you were scolded in a classroom by your teacher. I was hoping the mother would thank me for doing her job but she never did say anything…

We all have to commute to get to work, some drive, some take public transportation and some lucky bastards like me get to just walk to work. A good 25 minutes walk in the morning is delightful in my books, regardless of the weather or temperature, I can dress for the occasion. And to be honest, I’d get so agitated and filled with even more hate if I had to share my time to work in a stuffy crowded streetcar or subway…

So as I walk each morning and evenings, I’m a witness to many things, some funny, some not.

I grew up with a cousin who had Downs Syndrome. Maybe I became very sensitive to it because of my closeness to it. I adore them. In my experience, they are so filled with joy and and often don’t realize that there are bad people out there. So it breaks my heart in pieces when I witness what I’d consider involuntary acts involving people living with Downs Syndrome. Like this time, last week, on my way to work when I saw this welfare recipient looking bottle blond bitch smoking outside a hospital with what I’m sure was a close relative with Downs. I watched her lit two cigarettes at a time and give one to the young adult. I fucking lost my shit and just unloaded all over her:

Me: I know the first thing you’re going to say is that it’s none of my business, but is there a reason your brother or son is smoking? With all the challenges he already faces, I can’t believe you’d want to add cancer to that.
Her: Mind your fucking business. (cough, cough)
Me: I win. I knew you’d say just that. Clever argument indeed.

I didn’t stick around. Not that I’m a coward when it comes to situations like these because I wouldn’t have said anything in the first place, but you know when someone doesn’t care enough to want to make a change… My cousin grew up in a house of smokers but they all had enough sense to not light one up for him and get him addicted. I’m so thankful for that.

Christmas is coming, which means stores are going to get even crazier than on regular days. Here are two things I’m asking Santa for this year:

1. May all the brain-damaged people understand the etiquette of escalator or elevator rules… They’re so simple really, don’t be a statistic of my hate list.

It’s easy, and I think it’s the same all around the world. Escalators were not created so you can get fatter in between floors, really, they were created to help people get up or down floors in a faster way by just walking as you climb or descend. So, if you can’t play by rules, then step the fuck to the right and station yourself beautifully out of the way of the people who want to exercise their right to walking and passing the slowmoes on the left side of the moving stairs. It’s easy, it’s simple, it makes people like me not throw shade or hate.

As for elevators, also very simple, get in, press your floor button (clue, it will light up when you do) and, wait for it, MOVE FROM THE CLOSING DOORS… Yes, there are other people who are waiting to get in. I don’t care if you’re first to get out, that you’re only going one floor up or down, just let me get the fuck inside so I can push my button and step aside. On that same vein, DON’T FUCKING WAIT RIGHT AT THE SLIT OF THE DOORS when waiting to get in, chances are there will be people getting out when the doors open and kissing your ugly pimply face is not what they want when they get to their floors.

2. Knowledgeable Store Employees.

Big store employees or medium store employees or small store employees or ugly store employees or even Walmart employees. Know your shit. Or if you don’t, shut the fuck up, don’t answer any questions, use your fingers to point to a store map or another employee you think might know the answer. But I’m gonna fucking run back to the 5th floor and drop kick you in the mouth if you send me from the the 5th floor of The Hudson Bay Co. to the basement for something that it turns out your company has decided not to carry anymore. Drop kick you in the mouth. “Huh… toys? Huh… All the christmas stuff is on the lower level… Toys are for christmas, so it has to be there”. No fucker, your shitty store doesn’t sell toys anymore like they used to.. I’m looking for Lego’s, the most recognizable toy in the entire world. The sell them in all the countries. Amusement parks around the world were built with Lego’s as their theme… And you have no clue if your company, one that’s large and nation-wide in Canada, sells them or not… “Huh… toys? Huh… All the christmas stuff is on the lower level… Toys are for christmas, so it has to be there”. I just want to put my heaviest boots on and go back… I’m ready for you fucker…

If you want to REALLY piss me off with a passion, here’s what can be done:

If I’m walking and get to a corner where the light is red, don’t come from behind me and station yourself RIGHT in front of me waiting for the green light to come and then not move when it finally turns or worst, walk slowly so that I HAVE TO walk around your fat slow lazy ass to continue the walk at the speed I was going to before you came into my life.

Oh, you want to make it worst? Sure. Here’s how:

Do all this and then add 4 or 5 shopping bags that you hold on your forearms by bending your elbows, that way you’ll block me even more and there’s a huge chance you’ll hit me with your shit as you wiggle your important self right in front of me.. Huge chance.

No I won’t be smiling as I pass you, but I may want to force a fart out… If only I could commend that function in my body.

Here’s another thing that bugs me. Lulu Lemon. The store, the clothes, the image…

Seriously, these clothes may be comfortable but they should only be sold in size small, which is for the only people who can wear tight, body-hugging clothes. As a fatty, it might make you feel sexy to wear something that’s frottageing your entire body, but as a spectator of your fashion faux-pas, I fucking hate it… The human body in all its shapes and forms can be beautiful, and as humans with working brains, we have the power to prove it by accessorizing it to its full potential. Tight clothes on overweight people is not the answer. The same way oversized pants hanging below your underwear line on guys isn’t attractive or special either.

We have one body, we have thousands of fashion outlets to choose from to go out in public. Chose wisely or stay the hell indoors if you can’t.

I’ve kept away from blogging lately. There are many reasons, some more valid than others. It’s not because I don’t have anything to say really.
One of the main reasons is I’m finding that my interest in Instagram (IG) is filling my need for online connections these days… I haven’t deleted my accounts on Flickr or Twitter, in fact I’m using these two applications to further my love of IG by forwarding my posts there.

My blog is still important to me, I’m not closing it and I’m sure soon enough I’ll be back more often… but in the last few months I have felt that my photographs were enough to express how I felt… BUT… and that is a big but in capital letters, it’s hard to take a picture to express things that get on your nerves or hate, and since I started this blog to just release the pressure and share the things I really dislike in people, follow me for a week of rants and swear… I’ve missed swearing in public, I swear I have.

I’ve been asked why I haven’t been posting lately by quite a few people and seriously, IG is the main reason but there are a couple of other things. One thing that bugs the shit out of me is when people make fun of things I am passionate about or, I don’t know, let’s say I just spent 2.5 hours on PhotoShop manipulating 20 pictures I took of artists’ renditions of my childhood hero to make them all look like I was dead on right smack in front of the art piece and removed the reflections as best I could, I don’t want the first comment to be something like: “my favourite is the racist one” referring to the first book published by the author in the 40′s their knowledge of that particular world was not based on being on the internet 25 hours a day. As a kid, you don’t see racism, you see action and adventure and when you re-read those same comic books as adult you take into account that they were written more than 50 years ago when the world was a different place then.

In the same vain, this goes for Disney as well, we know Song Of The South was filmed in 1946, we know it’s based on the writing of a man that was himself born in 1846, so we’re all adult enough and can be sensitive the racial issues of the material the movie is based on… Release the fucking movie on DVD already, the mix of animation and real-live action is splendid.