So, with the sun up and it being such a beautiful day outside, I’ve decided to spend some time here with my dog in the quiet backyard and compose my thoughts into complaints, as seems natural and fitting.

First: Why, in today's modern and technologically savvy society, is it still deemed necessary to give callers instructions on how to leave a message on a cell phone? “When you are done, you may hang up.” No shit. Really? I did not know that, for you see, I am a cave person and have never used a, what-do-you-call-it, a talking stick.

Second: What is wrong with green tea in this country? Why cannot we, as a nation, fathom drinking green tea without adding some other, most notoriously “berry”, flavor? I asked for a green tea today at Starbucks, and received something minty. Figuring somebody had simply got my order wrong, I elbowed my way through the stock-market-floor-like throng in front of the counter and begged, if I could please, sir, have an other. Perhaps one such as I had ordered. A happy barrista gave me something back that tasted almost, but not quite, completely unlike green tea (sorry Mr. Adams). In fact it was the same tea which I had ordered at first.

Thirdly, on opening the door for strangers: I would much appreciate it if, after I have gone through the trouble of opening the door for your pear-shaped personage and for that of your mewling, flabby-faced young, if you could find it in your heart, weak and overtaxed though it surely must already be, to offer me the courtesy of acknowledging my existence. I recognize that the cell phone conversation you are having about little Jimmy’s bowels is very important, as the volume of your emotional outpourings makes clear, but please, madam, just a nod would suffice.

Well. My job here is done it seems, as the clouds look like they are finally finished parting, and may join back together in frumpy gray harmony. A dash of vituperation cures all.

Labels: rant