I've wanted to blog about this a lot in the past, but I've resisted the urge and spared you the rant. I've decided that you get to suffer on this Thursday night, because what happened to me today was so stunning that I was left angry bordering on tears. I kid you not. When I get really angry I tend to cry these hot, stinging tears that make people think I'm sad, but really, if you see me red-faced with tiny tears in the corner of my eyes - run.
I work in a pseudo-retail environment. Meaning, it's not a place where the average person shops at every day, but most people have to go there quite a few times a year to pick things up, or buy little square things to put on letters and make them go. Get my drift?
So yes, at my place of work I deal with the public. Given that I am friendly and generally enjoy the company of people, I'm usually shoved at the front desk, ready to greet you and meet your postal needs. Lucky me, eh? No. Lucky you. I am damn good at my job.
As a rule, I love this part of my job. Old ladies call me "dear" and comment on my "wonderful height". Old men call me "honey" and comment on my "wonderful height and pretty hair". Kids come in to get birthday presents from grandparents or throw mail down the mail slot. It's pretty cool overall.
Except, and this has happened a few times, for the cell phone offenders.
Now, if you know me, you know I've become hotly obsessed with my Blackberry and to me, it's okay. Cause dude, time and place. I like to think I've got a handle on that. Not to mention that I never, ever talk on that thing when I'm, you know, interacting with actual people.
Today, a girl, mid twenties came in. She stood in line. Her phone rang. She picked it up and proceeded to talk. As she was not yet at the front of the line, that was fine, even if she was talking at a decibel best reserved for a crowded nightclub. When she got to me she had a letter in her hand that she threw on the counter and the proceeded to mouth the word "Stamp".
I put it on the scale and it was a bit heavy. I waited a few seconds for her to get the hint that this was where I got to interact with her and she might want to hang the phone up. But no ... she continued on. So, I interrupted.
"It's a bit heavy, it needs extra postage."
She stared at me blankly.
I had to resist the urge to wave in her face to see if she was processing.
I said again. "That's $1.03 please."
And, I shit you not, this girl in the awesome Lululemon coat with nails that I could never button my jeans with put one of those perfectly manicured nails in my face and told me to "hang on one sec because (she was) on the phone."
My head pounded instantly and I actually muttered "Are you freaking kidding me here?"
Eventually paid and she moved on, but this immediately got stored in my "What is wrong with people?" bank.
Even now, I'm still stunned.
You must have something like this. It doesn't even have to relate to cell phone usage. Please, regale me with your tales of basic human stupidity. Let's not have this girl be alone!