Summer not-so-lovin'

Really, I can appreciate that teenagers and college kids need summer jobs. It was not so long ago, after all, that I myself spent a summer in "customer relations" at the Crystal Springs Aquatic Center, as well as in "sales" at Laura Ashley, where I literally could not bring myself to take advantage of the employee discount to buy anything other than a single black dress, and which I am surprised to learn is still a functioning corporation.

That said, it is so annoying to deal with teenagers behind an ice cream counter who really don't care whether I get the vanilla cone or the strawberry cup with marshmallows. Somehow, with their intense apathy, they manage to make me feel like I am the one asking them for a favor, like if I weren't there tasting different frozen yogurt flavors they'd be sunning on the Amalfi coast.  It is hardly my fault their boss pays minimum wage, is it? A little bit of courtesy would go a long way. Just saying.

Hung out to dry

For a variety of aggravating reasons (which may be fodder for another vent sometime), I can't really do laundry in my building, and because I despise laundromats (which will definitely be fodder for a vent sometime), that leaves me with little choice but to outsource all of my laundry. This may sound luxurious, but let me assure you, the expense is sufficiently obscene to limit total enjoyment of the convenience. The real problem, however, is that sometimes, the wash and fold people and dry cleaners lose things. Often, these are things I enjoyed wearing, which are never to be found when I call. Or, they are socks, which is understandable, and not something I can really call and complain about, but leaves me with too many pairs of mismatched socks! 

The most annoying of all is the story like this one: I call the dry cleaners and am told, no, they don't have the white belt that matches my white jacket. I turn my apartment upside-down to find said white belt, without which the jacket just doesn't work. Then, when I don't find the belt, I call again, just to check, and -- within about 2 seconds -- the belt is located, tagged, and delivered to me. So where was it the first time? On an employee? Used as a headband for someone ironing? I will never know.

I knew I wasn't the only one to think the MTA is a disaster, and today I am vindicated by the New York Times. Not only have I suffered many times at the hands of the seemingly endless delays the article mentioned -- 20 minutes last night for the B train! -- but I'm also mystified by their new "bonus" system for MetroCards. If you have never purchased or used a MetroCard, then on paper the concept seems simple enough: you get a bonus of 15% on every purchase of $7 or more, and the cards are refillable. Thus, one would think, you can simply add on to whatever is left over, and eventually your change will equal the cost of a train ride.

Right?

Well, not exactly. The problem is that fares are currently $2, and it is so impossible to figure out how a 15% bonus on $7+ will get you anywhere near another $2 that the math requires normal, non-math types like me to rely on websites like NYC MetroCard Bonus Calculator to figure out what amounts make any kind of sense to add. Back when fares were a measly $1.50, it all worked out so neatly. But now, there is some transaction I occasionally stumble into where I end up with a $1.05 bonus. What am I supposed to do with five cents?!

It feels like the MTA is attempting to solve its $900 million budget problem by, literally, nickel-and-diming the public. Which is not a very enjoyable feeling at all.

Driving...me crazy!

In my memory, drivers' ed goes something like this:

Lesson One: ignition, gas pedal, brake pedal.
Lesson Two: drive, neutral, reverse. (this may also require lesson 2.5 on a stick shift, I don't know, I can only drive an automatic.)
Lesson Three: THE LEFT LANE IS FOR PASSING!

Perhaps the lessons are different on Long Island. Perhaps my memory is fuzzy; after all, it has been quite a while since I was a student driver. But even if this rule is not quite as high-priority as I recall, it is still the rule, right? So why do people feel it is ok to casually cruise along at 60mph in the left lane of the LIE?! Move over, people! There may be plenty of other traffic, and it is certainly quite possible I won't get home any faster, but I will at least feel better if the rules of the road are being observed.

Office hijinks, continued

Some woman who uses the ladies' room on my floor, which is shared by several companies, has recently embarked on an interesting pattern of behavior: lining a toilet seat very neatly and very completely in paper towels, which she then leaves behind. Leaving me to have to idea whether she ever sat down on said paper towels. Clearly in either case I am not disposing of them, but she keeps doing this, in the same stall, every day. One of these days I just know I am going to have to use the bathroom, the other stalls will be taken, and then what do I do?! Ick.

Is this thing on?

me: omg
the_venter: ?
me: so my cube is across from two offices. two people who work together on stuff a lot. and right now. they have their doors open. And are on speakerphone WITH EACH OTHER. !?!??! and there's an ECHO.
the_venter: ha
me: i mean, who DOES THIS? the dude is always leaving his door open when on loud conf calls, too. SO ANNOYING.
the_venter: HA
me: they are steps from each other. or like PICK UP THE FREAKING HANDSET

...

me: omg she just awlked over there. AFTER THEY GOT OFF THE PHONE. OMG INSANE
the_venter: wait, just with each other?
me: YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
the_venter: not other people on the call?
me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.it's like, another universe. my brain just exploded.

I am not a "bot"

But sometimes, I can't for the life of me decipher the shaded, twisty, numbers and letters that I am supposed to enter to prove I am a human being when making certain online purchases! Give me a break, Ticketmaster. Your fees are already through the roof. Must I also feel like an old lday at check-out as I squint at my computer screen? Is that an "S"? An "L"? A "1"? Good grief.