Archive for the 'Stupid People' Category

My first accident

Last week I had my first automobile-bicycle incident. At the end of a weekend that was just shy of 50 miles, I was riding from College Park back to Silver Spring. While riding down University, I stopped at the light for New Hampshire and made eye contact with the woman driving a yellow Nissan Xterra behind me. She kept her distance. After about two blocks, nearly to Carroll, she was still behind me. Then, as I’m cruising down University I see this yellow flash come from my left and pass directly in front of me. Squeezing my brakes, I came to a slow plow-down-the-passenger-side of her vehicle, leaving a justice-scrape from the clips. As I continued my journey, I pushed forward the mirror and finished with a springy bounce backward toward the pavement.

Remembering in an instant how a certain friend fell and her shoes stayed clipped, I twisted my legs as the pavement approached to release my shoes. It almost seemed over before it had begun. Next thing I knew I jumped to my feet and pulled my bike onto the curb. My knees were scraped. That was all. I was pretty certain. I exchanged information with the driver and got back on my merry way to Silver Spring with blood dripping down my shin.

My wound, a couple of days later

My wound, a couple of days later. I shaved around it so that I didn't rip out my leg hair when I changed bandages.

I didn’t have time to stop and clean up before meeting Preston at Starbucks. Maybe I should have started cleaning my leg in the bathroom rather than the sitting area of Starbucks.

Looking back, I’m pretty certain that the driver thought I was moving much slower than I actually was. She likely thought she could blast past me and turn before I got there. Instead, she just turned directly into me.

Lesson for drivers: cyclists are likely moving much faster than you think, not pedestrian speed. Typically they are moving 18 to 25 miles per hour. Occasionally faster.

Lesson for cyclists: drivers don’t realize how fast you’re moving.

Things to yell from a stretched H2

Recently while bicycling, I was pulling up past a stretched Hummer H2 at a stop light, and heard what very well may be the only thing that can be appropriately hollered from the window of such a classy vehicle.

“Nice badunkadunk!”

I’m not quite certain how these teenaged girls could have ascertained this information having only seeing me from the anterior.

My retarded Subway

Subway Sandwich ShopThe Subway Sandwich shop across the street from my home was one of the nicest ones I’ve ever seen: plasma television, gas fireplace, arm chairs, bistro tables. Which is all rather ironic seeing as how it is located in the crummy Travelodge.

Months ago, the Subway got robbed. At 11 on a Sunday morning.  There are three churches directly across the street, so I’m sure there were plenty of people around. Then, a few weeks later, the Subway was robbed again.  A Sunday morning again if I remember correctly.Recently the Subway installed what I can only assume is bullet-proof glass. However, the glass only protects the area behind the food. It stops several feet from the cash register. If the bullet proof glass is meant to protect the employees, it is probably actually doing the opposite. If an armed robber comes in, and the employees run behind the glassed-in area to hide, it is likely going to piss off the robber. If he is prone to violence, a single pane of bullet-proof glass is not going to stop him.  Using the simple laws of physics, all he has to do is reach his gun around the side of the glass near the register.

Besides the stupid idea that it might stop a robbery, the glass also makes it nearly impossible for the employees to understand the customers’ orders. Customers have to yell, and the more customers there are, the more yelling there is.  It doesn’t help that most of the employees seem to have a difficult time with English to begin with.

“What can I get for you?”

“Just a minute, I’m thinking.”

“Did you say chicken teriyaki?”

“No, I said just a minute, I’m thinking

“Chicken teriyaki?”

“No, I haven’t made up my mind yet. I’m still trying to decide what I want.” A moment later, “OK, I’ll have a footlong chicken teriyaki on honey oat.”

“No, we have no more honey oat.”

“Ummm… OK, I’ll have it on whole wheat.

“She starts to put American cheese on, without asking.

“No, no American cheese. I want Provolone.”

“No cheese?”

“Yes, cheese. Provolone cheese. Take off the American cheese.”

“Do you want it toasted?”

“No.”

“Toasted?”

“Not toasted.”

“Toasted?”

“No, I do not want my sandwich toasted.”

“Okay, what do you want on it?”

“Lettuce.”

She puts lettuce on it.

“Tomato.” I point to the sliced tomatoes. She reaches for the second bin of lettuce.

“Lettuce?”

Tomato. Olives. Green peppers.”

“Pepperoni?”

“No, I said Green peppers. Red pepper relish.”

“Red pepper relish? I don’t know what that is.”

I point to the red pepper relish. “Oh, you mean red pepper sauce!”

Uuuuaaaaggghh!!!

Dopyo Campona

Yesterday at Starbucks I ordered a Doppio Con Panna, which is a double espresso with whipped cream. Most people probably don’t know that. Even fewer know how to spell that. However, you would think that people who worked at Starbucks could spell it somewhat properly. When I returned to work, I discovered that the cup I held in my hand showed written in a squiggly black marker: “Camp.”

Locked up

Tonight while at CVS I intended to pick up some shower gel. However, they had the shower gel LOCKED IN A CABINET! Right next to the $30 tins of pomade and the expensive hair color kits that were sitting on an open shelf. I wasn’t about to hunt down an overworked retail employee who likely was not even carrying the key on them.  I’ll pick it up when I go to Giant tomorrow.

Feel Fantastic, Feel Refreshed

Last week while returning home from Syracuse, I found a machine in a gas station restroom off of 81 near Harrisburg. You put a quarter in, turn the nozzle to the scent you want, and push the plunger in. The scents are “Polo”, “Drakkar”, “Obsession”, “Eternity”, and “Polo Sport”.

Cologne Spray

Maybe she was drinking Kettle One

Yesterday on my way home I stepped into the MoCo liquor store (<sarcasm>I LOVE county control of my fluids, by the way</sarcasm>). In the two minutes I was there (would have been one minute, but I didn’t know if I should stick with the 1L bottle of Kettle One or take the great deal on the 1.75L) there was an an accident on Colesville Rd directly in front of the County We-Know-What’s-Best-For-You store and the police had already arrived. Apparently I was too in-tune to my decision at hand to hear the noise. But when I got outside, a police officer was talking with a girl who was standing outside her car. She had obviously rear-ended the car in front of her. The car in front had a scuffed bumper. Her car, however, had a completely dented in hood, to the point where the engine had started to retreat below the passenger cage. The funny thing about the situation however, was that the girl who was obviously at fault showed no signs of distress. She was talking calmly to the officer as if this was something that happened every Thursday.
This happened in the exact same spot as the photo yesterday.

Clean Me

Recently I have been taking the bus to work, and from the high vantage point I can see just how messy people’s cars are. For some time now, I have been wanting to write a blog post about this, but I needed to get a really good picture to show you just what I am talking about. Fortunately, I hit the jackpot this morning. Seriously.

Trash Car

That is all trash, right up to the ceiling. Papers, shopping bags, McDonalds bags… And yes, it’s driving down Colesville Road. But hey, at least they support our troops.

I think the only person to beat this is Ann Biglan, who earlier this year had an accident after trash spilled from her passenger seat into the driver’s area, blocking the brake pedal. And if that’s not enough, take a look at what happened to her home.

Fashion Faux Pax

I never have made a claim to be the fashion police, but there are two things I have seen in the past 24 hours that I beg of each and every one of you to never, ever try.

  1. If you are classy enough to buy 7 For All Mankind jeans, please make sure you didn’t spend all your class, leaving you with a class deficit causing you to convert your 7s into cut-offs. Really, I did see this. And it was less glamorous than it sounds.
  2. The right kind of scar on the right kind of person has the potential to be sexy.  However, if you have a horrible disfiguring scar that has protrusions and obvious skin grafting, please have the decency to not wear a half-unbuttoned shirt.

Last Falwell post, I promise

Boing Boing has had a few posts about Falwell recently that are well worth mention:

Fun Family Game: Hitler or Falwell – Read a quote, guess who said it. Definitely read the first comment after the quiz.

Falwell’s Stupidest Quotes, Direct From Hell – No need to explain.

Jerry Falwell Talks About His First Time – In 1983 Hustler Magazine published an advertisement which was a parody interview.  Falwell sued Hustler for libel, but this case set a precedent in the Supreme Court for free speech rights and parody.