UnleashYourAnger.com

To Mr. I-Drive-Like-An-Old-Man Taurus Driver:

That red sign with eight sides and STOP on it means you have to stop.  Yes, even if you are waiting in line behind another guy.

It does not mean "STOP: then go whenever you feel like it". 

It does not mean "STOP: unless your mom told you you're special". 

It means "STOP WHEN YOU REACH THIS SIGN".

What does that mean?  well, when the guy in front of you's turn comes to go, he gets to go.  Then guess what?  You have to stop again when you pull up to the intersection.  yes, at the STOP sign, that's where you have to stop.  Then, it's my turn, because I got there before you.  There is a pecking order.  See how that works?

Furthermore, you not only blatantly ran a stop sign, you also failed to follow protocol when I flipped you off and leaned on the horn.  Any boston driver worth his salt would at LEAST return the favor.  Preferably with a slamming of the brakes and some choice profanities yelled out the window.  That Bambi in headlights look you gave me did not suffice.  So, naturally I had to take drastic measures and give you another Honk 'n' Flip when you turned off the road later.  I'm sure you understand.

Why, please someone tell me, do businesses, retail establishments and the like insist on only unlocking one door of a double door entry/exit?!?  This is the fabulous US of A.  We walk and drive on the right.  Few things annoy me like walking along with friends or colleagues toward an exit, putting my hand out to push open the right door of a double door and being stopped in my tracks!  Is it that hard to unlock both?  Technically it's a fire violation to keep one side locked.  What gives?!  Not only are buildings legally responsible for opening both doors, it make sense for their patrons.  If a group of people is coming in while I'm exiting, I want to be able to proceed past them through my own side, not wait awkwardly for them to get through the door ("you go", "no, you go", "no, I insist") so I can leave. 

And I won't even start on the people who wait for the opposite door before going even though there is a second, UNLOCKED door available (just push, people). 

We all know that the fashion is constantly changing and “created” by few people in the world.  Influential designers, models, or celebrities can all create “fashion” by simply introducing them to the world and claiming (“defining”) that is the new fashion. 

This is commonsense…I know…but there are certain things out there that just look like they are made into fashion as a “dare”, “just to prove a point”, or even a “mistake.”  Think these examples:

Dolce to Gabbana: “Dude, look at what I found in my parents’ garage.  My pants from when I was 7 years old.  I dare you if we put this in our next show, women all over the world will wear them even though they are too short and small.  Let’s call them ‘Capri’, so it sounds hip.”

What about Brad Pitt getting to a hotel before a black-tie dinner and saying: “Dang it.  I forgot to pack my socks.  I guess I will wear my suit without socks.  I am sure no one will notice.”

This is a fun exercise.  I am sure you can come up with something for those gigantic sunglasses, bell bottoms, shaving the head thing, low-cut jeans, those women’s dresses that look like maternity clothes (flare out under the breasts), pilot goggles, indoor sunglasses, “grills”, etc.

I am actually surprised that someone hasn’t ranted about this topic already.  Is it too obvious?

Suffolk County Jail is the one on Nashua Street near TD Bank North Garden.  It’s a beautiful brick building facing the Charles River, a new park, Zakim Bridge, and the Boston Harbor.  It is a stunning building on a prime real estate with an amazing view.

Guess what!  It’s a prison!   Who came up with the brilliant idea of giving such luxury to the prisoners?!  I hear they have single rooms in there, and…did I mention the views?  Geez…free meal, time to read books, with an amazing view of the river and park…can I join you guys?  (I am bitter, because my apartment is in the basement and the pipes burst two days ago.)  Our prisoners already are costing enough of taxpayers money, but we are willing to spend gazzilions more on this stunning condo.  How did the city justify this expense (or the loss of property tax of the waterfront property)?

I digress a little, but whenever I walk by there, there are sketchy people outside hanging out.  I assume they are visitors of the prisoners, but they certainly make me uncomfortable.  I have seen those people waving at prisoners and communicating through hand signals and paper.  Those prisoners on the basketball courts on the side?  They cackle and hoot at the passerby. Yuck!

Lastly, did you guys know that this jail is a public humiliation of Boston?  My parents, when they visited Boston and did the Duck Tour, were taken to this prison and heard about the luxury of this establishment.  I am embarrassed to see that this has been made into one of the tourist destinations.  Is this what we want visitors to think of Boston? That we treat our prisoners better than we treat our residents?!  :)

Big Dig is embarrassing enough, right?

I have always wondered.  Why is it a big deal for the waiter to recite the specials from memory?  It is “the thing”, right?   It is a custom?  Is it expected of them to?

Are waiters in general expected to do that?  (I don't expect them to.) Are the restaurants requiring them to do that?  (I'm thinking yes.)  Am I supposed to be impressed with that?  (If so, I want to be impressed by good service and good meal.)  I just don’t get “why” they do that, because…well, I just don’t see why it’s a big deal.

I think I’d rather skip the uncomfortable silences when the wait staff messes up or forgets the specials.  I’d rather have the special read to me in the correct manner.  I am allergic to some stuff, and I’d rather know with accuracy what the specials are.

Don’t let me get started on memorizing the order they take…

PS. One time, this waitress read this very long specials list from memory, in perfect manner, and in one breath, and we all cheered and clapped.  That was impressive and fun, but I am still not sure if this is expected of the waiters.  Anyone know?

I don’t get it.  Why don’t people waiting for the baggage just step back from the conveyor belt?  If we did, we can all see our luggage, and there won’t be pushing and shoving when people are grabbing their bags.

Can’t we all just stand back and approach the belt when the bag comes?  It’d be so much easier. 

Why must people insist on having the front row seat?  This ain’t a concert or a sporting event.  You won’t see the glistening sweat off the singer.  You won’t see “the play develop”. You won’t catch the drum stick or the guitar pick.  The bags won’t approach you to give you a five, lock eyes and smile at you, and certainly won’t take you backstage.

Please.  You just have to be able to identify your own darn bag.  We are all tired from the long plane ride.  I know we are anxious but let’s all step back and relax.  The bags come in a certain order no matter how close you are to the belt.

I loved it when those disposable toilet seat covers started appearing in public restrooms.  What a great invention!  They make me feel like I am doing it at home.  Finally, a way to keep strangers’ butt oil from reaching mine.  Yes, I know the paper is super thin, and pee or whatever is on the seat probably find their way to my rear, but they make me feel good regardless.   What are super cool are the flaps within the circle.  They protect my you-know-what from touching the porcelain and it magically disposes the seat when you flush!  What kind of genius created this impeccable design?!

Then came the automatic flush.  When I walk into the stall, carefully wipe the seat, place the seat cover on, and is about to sit down, more time than not, the toilet flushes – gobbling up my beautifully positioned cover, which was about to give me such comfort.

This is really annoying, really disappointing, and makes me feel completely empty inside (even though I haven’t “emptied” yet).  We all know this feeling of helplessness.  You just stand there, speechless...not knowing what really happened.  “Wait, did I just finish, or was I about to begin?”  The confusion sets in.  You just pause, in a half crouching position, staring at the back of the stall door, speechless, and in complete disbelief. 

Once you snap out of your denial and accept the reality, you collect enough courage to try again.  This time you are more cautious.  (However void of honor, because you already have your pants down by your ankles.) You try to maneuver around the censor on the way down. I don’t know about you guys, but my butt clips the censor, and there goes the cover.  The third try, you try to sit down really fast to fool the censor in thinking that a butt magically appeared.  Once I have it cramped down, it doesn’t even matter if it flushes…right?  Well, we all know that this method is suicide, because even if you are successful at holding down the cover with your butt, if the toilet flushes, you will have a wet posterior – in some cases with the wet flap…well, flapping at your butt.

I guess I just don't get it.  I get the whole idea of going out after a day of skiing and getting plastered, dancing, or whatever else you want to do.  But why on earth do we have to use the french language to express this?  Is English not descriptive enough?  "After Skiing" or "Post Ski" doesn't do the job?

Or were the French the first to think of going out after a hard day of skiing?  Were English-speaking peoples sitting around post-ski playing solitaire when some guy named Jaques came in one day and showed them how to party?  ("Gee, why didn't we think of this?")

I know it's a stupid thing to be ranting about, but it irks me because it sounds so damned pretentious when people say it.  Get real, people!

I have always wondered this and I am sure you have too.  You know all those shopping carts in your condo building.  Those carts that are conveniently there, so you use them to bring your goodies back to your units.   Have you guys wondered how they end up there?

I have lived in Boston a long time (Brighton, Allston, Cambridge, Somerville, Brookline), but every condo I lived in had shopping carts.  Lots and lots of shopping carts.  Carts of all sizes, colors, and stores.  Where in the world do they come from, and why are there so many?  I asked my current property manager, and he told me that he needs to bring them back to the appropriate stores EVERY YEAR, but they all magically appear.   

I recently counted 8 shopping carts in my complex.  8!!  And they are all from different stores (except one).  My condo is not even close to any of these stores.  Shaws is miles away.  Home Depot is on the other side of 93.  I don’t even know where there is Marshalls in Cambridge.  K-Mart?  Didn’t they shrivel away with Martha Stewart?  What the heck is Ames?? (continued - click on "Read More..." below)