So Festivus is a holiday with no religious affiliation, just a celebration of...well...nothing. Decorations are simple, usually an aluminum post, and then you and your loved ones sit around the post, and have an 'airing of grievances'. This is followed by a festivus feast, and then the 'Feats of Strength' are performed, involving wrestling the head of the household to the floor, the holiday only ending if the head of the household is actually pinned. My point is this.....I consider myself the head of the household and nobody has actually pinned me to the floor, so technically, its still FESTIVUS. That being said, I would like to start again with my 'airing of grievances'.
#1 Police: We are constantly being bombarded with their little speeches about how we need to just slow down, be an attentive driver, and generally just use good common sense. I get passed by more cops...without their lights on, than anybody else. Not just that, but I am constantly on the lookout for people who are driving and talking on their cell phones. You guessed it, I am always seeing cops driving while they are talking on the phone. And if thats not enough, what the hell is that laptop off to their right. I can see how it would be useful if they have somebody pulled over or whatever, but its like they're driving down the road, using their cell phone with one hand, playing solitaire with the other, driving with their knees, and generally trying to crawl backwards up their own butts.
#2 Cell phone usage: I have a cell phone, I like my cell phone, I like to use my cell phone. Where this starts to irritate me is when people become so concerned with 'being connected' to the world, that they suddenly become so disconnected with reality. We've all seen the zombies shambling through the stores, with eyes glued to their phones trying to text somebody. In the meantime, they have managed to knock over 13 mannequins, cut off the lady with 3 kids hanging off of her, and have otherwise gotten in every other patron's way at some time or another. Or what about the bluetooth headpiece that you can use? Does little Jr., who still wets the bed, really need to have a bluetooth. It seems like at least 3/4 of the people who have a bluetooth forget that they are on the phone with one other person, not everyone within a 12 mile radius. As much as I am interested in hearing about those cute shoes that were bought at Kohl's, or Aunt Mildred's constant battle with cheap whiskey, Uncle Leroy, and those damned hemroids, its just not necessary.
#3 Fabric Stores: I have had the opportunity, on several occasions to go to the fabric store. I can't think of a more painful death. It doesn't help that I am extremely claustrophobic, but to be surrounded by solids, florals, checkers, denim, polyester, corduroy, silk, fleece, flannel, and every other combination you can think of, its just so overwhelming. If you can possibly manage to squeeze your way out of the fabric part, you find yourself right in the middle of patterns. You have your bride-to-be on one side looking at the ugliest brides maid dresses she can find, the elderly woman on the other side looking at some antiquated quilt pattern that will without a doubt, be under construction in the middle of her family room for the next 4 months, and the mother-to-be looking at patterns for a shirt that fits her swollen belly. If any one of these ladies catch a glimpse of a man in the pattern department, there WILL be bloodshed. That is their spot, their haven, its their 'estrogen island' floating in a testosterone world.
I'm starting to realize that there are a lot more things that bug me. Is the world I live in really that irritating or am I just super anal and annoyed at anything? Maybe that is something I need to consider, but for now, I'm just gonna go enjoy another festivus feast and wait for someone to conquer me in the 'feats of strength'. Then, and only then will Festivus come to and end...at least for now.
God bless Mr. Costanza!!!
3 comments:
I go to fabric stores. There I have said it! It's out there... and just like peeing in the pool, there is nothing I can do to take it back. Let me preface by explaining that I learned how to sew for a very manly reason. I had a car I was restoring and I was re-upholstering the interior. If there is a machine, I want to use it. I am not ready to just let all of the women claim the sewing machine as their own. I think if someone painted flames on a sewing machine and sold them with torque and/or horsepower ratings, grandma would suddenly find herself in the company of beer guzzling, butt grabbing, belching men when she goes to the fabric store to pick up 5 yards of her precious moments print flannel to make pajamas for her grandkids upcoming birthdays.
Possibly the funnest part about visiting a fabric store (try this next time you get roped in) if you are fortunate enough to see another male in the store, take some time to observe him. It is loads of fun. As soon as they walk in the door they blink a few times as if their soul is being ripped from their body. Their eyes immediately glaze over and go half mast, mouth drops open slightly. Sometimes a dabble of drool collects on the bottom lip bouncing and threatening to cast off of it's comatose transport. usually a cart and a purse is thrust into their gut and they are commissioned to follow closely and collect any "great deals" and "adorable things" that their spouses are prowling for. other than captaining a shopping cart they are identical to zombies. stumbling around with stiff legs, head cocked to on side, occasionally groaning in muted agony. Faces limp, and emotionless. Brain wave patterns flat as central Kansas. Sometimes a spouse will turn to their living dead partners and ask "Do you like the plum or lime colored sateen?" At these times the tortured will salivate, take one hand off of the shopping cart and clutch a now grumbling stomach cock their head in the other direction while looking back with a half pained, half confused look as they remember how hungry they are and wonder why their spouse would remind them that they haven't eaten since early that morning when they were promised a trip to the Harley Davidson store if they came along to run a few "quick" errands 7 hours ago.
on grievance #2: There is nothing more annoying than trying to work as a retail cashier and check out a customer who simply MUST continue that life-or-death conversation while I am trying to complete THEIR transaction! If they must talk on the phone, then GET OUT OF MY LINE UNTIL YOU ARE DONE!! It is not fair to next person in line to be waiting because you can't count cash, swipe a credit card or write a check while on the phone. And what am I, the cashier, supposed to do? Be RUDE and interrupt your conversation or use the manners your mother forgot to teach you and wait until you're off the phone? I don't need to compete with your BFF for your attention. YOU came to ME, so show some common courtesy and TURN OFF THE PHONE!
Can I be a member of this club? Sometimes I feel like such a jerk cause I get irritated too easily. I came up with a saying to try to make myself feel better, you may use it if you like: I am not complaining, just explaining.
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