February 23, 2006
Don’t tell me what to do
-Pam Tillis
Hi, I’m Amy. Have we met? If not, let me let you in on a little secret – I don’t like to be told what to do. Yeah, I have a problem with that. Of course I am speaking (as always) on a personal and not professional level. The following will explain.
I’m not in a good mood at all today. No particular reason why and at the same time, 18 very specific reasons why. (Hi, I’m Amy; I’m also a contradiction in the flesh). I was a couple of minutes later getting to work than I intended and in the process quite nearly ran over poor Patrick in the parking lot. No, no, he was in his car, I just happened to be taking up the entire 2 lanes, that’s all. It pretty much went downhill from there – when I was pulling into a parking place the person behind me got irritated and immediately swerved around me and made a point of speeding off. Yeah, keep going, friend – good thing I didn’t see who you are.
So I went to the ATM at lunch. My account balance pissed me off and of course I didn’t pull up close enough to the machine so I had to do the open the door hang out the window bit. Ugh. Left there and went to McDonald’s to get some lunch.
So the McDonald’s drive thru is a bit complicated, just trust me, it is. However, the parking lot is all brightly painted with tons of arrows showing you which way to go, where to yield, where to stop. Last time I checked, you had to know what all of these symbols meant before you could get a license, right? I pull to the dual ordering thing and ask for a McChicken sandwich and fries. The lady barks my total at me and I properly yield and then pull forward into the merging line. So the deal is, you have to stop and allow space for other cars to drive through the drive thru line. (I know, told you it was complicated). But it’s really not that big of deal because if you know how to drive a car, you know the stop sign means stop, so you stop. And you go when there is room so you can pull up next to the building and pay. Anyone licensed to drive a motor vehicle can and should comprehend the procedure. These McDonald’s folks have hired a freaking security guard to stand there and monitor the situation and direct traffic. Seriously?
So now I was really pissed. Don’t throw up that hand and tell me to stop and don’t point at me and tell me when to go. This isn’t a school crossing zone; hell, people don’t walk back here, period. We can read the stop sign and the big sign that hangs over the side that tells us to wait. The last thing in the free world I want to see is some woman, smoking a cigarette and talking on her cell phone in an “official” jacket stick her hand up for me to stop. So what did I do (besides silently seethe in my car)? I didn’t look at her AT ALL. That’s right. “No, no, you don’t own me. I’m young and free, young and free, you don’t own me.” I looked in the opposite direction and out of the corner of my eye when I knew it was clear I went. What was she going to do? Give me a ticket?
So I get to the first window and pay. While waiting for my change I look ahead and notice at the next window, my lunch is hanging out the window, flapping in the wind, secured by nothing more than a scrawny hand with fake nails. My head is about to explode. I take my change and pull forward – resisting the urge to gun it and see if the worker was paying enough attention to fear for the loss of her arm. I get to the window and before I stop, the bag is sort of tossed to me. I looked at her, boiling, and said, “I need some extra ketch—.” “IT’S IN THE BAG!” “No, I said EXTRA ketch—.”
And guess what my friends? SHE CLOSED THE WINDOW IN MY FACE. I uttered a dirty word and drove off. And believe me, I would have loved to park the car and gone in and ripped someone a new one. The only, and I do mean ONLY reason I didn’t is because I don’t have good luck and I knew that at least 10 people that work at the same organization would be in there having lunch.
Of course I got here and there were 2 packs of ketchup in the bag. Again, hello, I’m Amy, I’m a ketchup FREAK. I’m still mad. Oh well. At least I didn’t get out of control ridiculous on someone’s ass and act a fool. That’s one small step for dabbs today…
(Seriously – what is wrong with me? I have got to stop with the third person…)
Hi, I’m Amy. Have we met? If not, let me let you in on a little secret – I don’t like to be told what to do. Yeah, I have a problem with that. Of course I am speaking (as always) on a personal and not professional level. The following will explain.
I’m not in a good mood at all today. No particular reason why and at the same time, 18 very specific reasons why. (Hi, I’m Amy; I’m also a contradiction in the flesh). I was a couple of minutes later getting to work than I intended and in the process quite nearly ran over poor Patrick in the parking lot. No, no, he was in his car, I just happened to be taking up the entire 2 lanes, that’s all. It pretty much went downhill from there – when I was pulling into a parking place the person behind me got irritated and immediately swerved around me and made a point of speeding off. Yeah, keep going, friend – good thing I didn’t see who you are.
So I went to the ATM at lunch. My account balance pissed me off and of course I didn’t pull up close enough to the machine so I had to do the open the door hang out the window bit. Ugh. Left there and went to McDonald’s to get some lunch.
So the McDonald’s drive thru is a bit complicated, just trust me, it is. However, the parking lot is all brightly painted with tons of arrows showing you which way to go, where to yield, where to stop. Last time I checked, you had to know what all of these symbols meant before you could get a license, right? I pull to the dual ordering thing and ask for a McChicken sandwich and fries. The lady barks my total at me and I properly yield and then pull forward into the merging line. So the deal is, you have to stop and allow space for other cars to drive through the drive thru line. (I know, told you it was complicated). But it’s really not that big of deal because if you know how to drive a car, you know the stop sign means stop, so you stop. And you go when there is room so you can pull up next to the building and pay. Anyone licensed to drive a motor vehicle can and should comprehend the procedure. These McDonald’s folks have hired a freaking security guard to stand there and monitor the situation and direct traffic. Seriously?
So now I was really pissed. Don’t throw up that hand and tell me to stop and don’t point at me and tell me when to go. This isn’t a school crossing zone; hell, people don’t walk back here, period. We can read the stop sign and the big sign that hangs over the side that tells us to wait. The last thing in the free world I want to see is some woman, smoking a cigarette and talking on her cell phone in an “official” jacket stick her hand up for me to stop. So what did I do (besides silently seethe in my car)? I didn’t look at her AT ALL. That’s right. “No, no, you don’t own me. I’m young and free, young and free, you don’t own me.” I looked in the opposite direction and out of the corner of my eye when I knew it was clear I went. What was she going to do? Give me a ticket?
So I get to the first window and pay. While waiting for my change I look ahead and notice at the next window, my lunch is hanging out the window, flapping in the wind, secured by nothing more than a scrawny hand with fake nails. My head is about to explode. I take my change and pull forward – resisting the urge to gun it and see if the worker was paying enough attention to fear for the loss of her arm. I get to the window and before I stop, the bag is sort of tossed to me. I looked at her, boiling, and said, “I need some extra ketch—.” “IT’S IN THE BAG!” “No, I said EXTRA ketch—.”
And guess what my friends? SHE CLOSED THE WINDOW IN MY FACE. I uttered a dirty word and drove off. And believe me, I would have loved to park the car and gone in and ripped someone a new one. The only, and I do mean ONLY reason I didn’t is because I don’t have good luck and I knew that at least 10 people that work at the same organization would be in there having lunch.
Of course I got here and there were 2 packs of ketchup in the bag. Again, hello, I’m Amy, I’m a ketchup FREAK. I’m still mad. Oh well. At least I didn’t get out of control ridiculous on someone’s ass and act a fool. That’s one small step for dabbs today…
(Seriously – what is wrong with me? I have got to stop with the third person…)
Posted by Amy at 13:50:42 |
scott wrote:
sorry that you got no extra ketchup... I would have just sat there and waited until they ceme back.