I have a blog and I’m not afraid to use it

I turned a corner somewhere. Crossed a line. Went through a doorway. And I’m not sure it’s a good corner/line/doorway.

  • I hate 20-somethings.
  • I no longer keep quiet when something pisses me off.
  • I’m scaring the 20-somethings when they do something to piss me off which I’m no longer quiet about.

This creates a problem for me.

Now, when I say I ‘hate’ 20-sometings, hate might be a little strong. I just find them extremely irritating in a “Just shut up about who you got drunk with at the club on the weekend, because I could not care less,” kind of a way. And if that sounds to you like I might be jealous of the “excitement” of hanging out with named somebodies at a club, you could not be more wrong, because you would have to pay me, dress me, drive me, and pay for my drinks all night, to get me to go out to a club. Oh, and include ear plugs and some soft squooshy slippers and maybe a cone of silence.

(Note: unless it was some variation on a Victorian Gentlemen’s Club where I could just sit quietly in an easy chair and read. I would even smoke an occasional cigar if that’s what it would take.)

You see what I mean? I’ve become a curmudgeon. A misanthrope of the 20-somethings.

I prefer to think of it as a preference. As in I have an introvert preference. I prefer to connect with people in a more quiet, meaningful way where I don’t have to yelp and cry “SQUEEE!!! OHMIGOD, I LOVE YOUR NEW EARRINGS!!!” or variations thereof, at regular 5-minute intervals.

So, God help the poor 20-something working in retail who, through no fault of their own, finds me at their counter. Because I often always have an irrational query like “Why does nothing in this store have a price on it?” and “Why are you selling this crappy pantyhose?” or “The sign that says that you have this in petite sizes is lying then?” and “So, despite the fact that you list yourself as being a custom shop, you are really saying to me that My Particular Customization is so bizarre as to be Beyond Your Scope?” and my personal favourite to really get them into Angry Customer Mode and start them Quoting the Staff Manual and Mysterious Corporate Policy is not so much a question as any variation on the thematic statement “This is an outrageous price for that.”

Try it sometime. They are rendered quite mute for a moment or two, (Ahhh, sweet silence, how refreshing), and then they stumble around looking in the filing cabinet of their minds for the last staff inservice where they were taught how to deal with irrationally angry middle-aged women. However, they haven’t quite committed said passages to memory because they then start mumbling corporate-speak like an automaton with a crossed wire and an upward inflection at the end of their sentence “We’re sorry, your request cannot be completed as dialled? For your convenience, please go to another store and try your request again? Perhaps there you will find someone who’s making more than minimum wage and gives a crap?”

Oh, wait, that’s what I hear. Because being an actor, I excel at picking up on the sub-text. I can spot an eye-roll from 30 paces even if no eye was actually rolled.

Really, now that I look at it, written down, I think it makes me more angry that the corporate overlords have put these innocent (although still irritating) 20-somethings on the front line to take the bullet for their bad decisions. Or aren’t doing what they need to do to ensure that people working the front lines do give a crap about what’s going on in their store-front.

But you can’t get through to them. Oh no. They aren’t giving out that direct dial number I can tell you that.  They’re trying to discern why business is down using balance sheets and income statements. No one is asking me. Why is no one asking me? I could tell you if you would just ask.

So, my impotent rage at the 20-something store clerk festers, until I can release the poison with a bjournal post.

This what I should do…before I ask my next irrational question of the irritating 20-something, I should hand the clerk a card, like a business card, except all that will be on it will be the statement:

Be very careful how you answer my next question; I have a blog and I’m not afraid to use it.

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About Tentative Equinox North

Theatremaker, Homemaker, Thoughtmaker. Great hair, Probably looking forward to my next nap.
This entry was posted in Aliens and uncharted planets, Meteor Shower, Observatory and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to I have a blog and I’m not afraid to use it

  1. Well now I dying to know what the heck just happened to you.

    And I’d like to add to your tirade.

    “Hey, all you 20 somethings. Learn how to make change.”

  2. Sarah says:

    :(

    I like to think I’m the exception, but even then, that would be another thing wrong with my generation:
    blaming everybody else.

    *le sad*

  3. Persephone says:

    I just had a twenty-something (actually, he was probably a something-teen) accuse me of staring at him on the bus. As I denied this quizzically and departed with younger daughter, he yelled at me to **** off. (Not sure if it was the testosterone or cannabis.) Whaddaya think? Should I *blog* him?

  4. I will willing pay PAY for one of those cards -hmmm- to use it honestly would I have o start a blog or can I just lean on yours & let you rant for me?

  5. Mr. Glen says:

    Theres a maturation point to start every good thing in your life. I just turned 40. I dislike 20 somethings. Im smiling because today i dont ever need a wife to complete me. Got jesus..i build race engines. Go run your kia into a lake girlie. Im free as the wind. And now i think i’ll start a blog too. What the hay..catchy like a fire aint it. we middle agers are sooo wonderful

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