It happens more often than it ever should. A perfectly delightful evening out is ruined because someone has decided they have a right to subject anyone and everyone to their offspring's antics. Perhaps they have become desensitized to the seemingly never ending cacophony, but I find it hard to believe that they could be unaware of the fact that they have effectively sentenced everyone else to join them in their very special, pint-sized hell. As an example, I submit an all too familier story of a family outing:
The Boy, the step-daughter and I went out for what should have been a delightful hibachi dinner. After a short wait, we were seated at a table and began looking over the menu. The hostess attempted to seat a group of trendy, 20-something hipsters with us, but they declined saying "we don't want to be crowded", so we got to keep the table all to ourselves. Thus far it had been a casual, entertaining outing, and I was very much looking forward to some fresh fried rice and yummy steak. This should have been my first clue that something was about to go horribly, horribly wrong.
At the table behind us was a young couple with their plump, bow-adorned baby...who had taken it upon herself to keen at the top of her little lungs. I'm fairly certain that she must have actually been battery operated because I don't recall her ever stopping to take a breath, and the noise that was emanating from her distorted maw was not a sound a human should make. That, in and of itself, was irritating. The fact that mommy and daddy were content to simply let her tire herself out while they continued calmly chowing down, was infuriating. Add in the fact that management didn't have the balls to do anything about the offending party, and that vein on my right temple that tends to pulsate when I'm agitated was about to pop.
Everyone in the place was obviously being disturbed by both their squalling piglet and lack of concern. After about 15 minutes one of the waiters trepidatiously edged over and sheepishly mumbled a half-hearted suggestion that they perhaps try walking her around or something to calm her down. Daddy just kept bouncing her on his knee (which, by the way, was only making it worse as this jerky motion just made her howling reverberate through the dining room a la 'Crimson and Clover') and he insisted she was just tired and cranky. We took about another ten minutes of this private hell before getting so fed up with the lack of initiative and consideration of both the parents and management that we got up and left (ok, so the Boy might have drug me out before I doused the kid in teriyaki and threw her on the grill...same thing).
Now, I'm certain that there are people out there that would believe that the fault lay exclusively with the parents. Please let me assure you; this is not the case. It is the management's responsibility to do everything in their power to ensure the majority of their patrons enjoy their meal. While we would expect management to step in with a drunk and belligerent patron, so should we expect them to step in with disturbing children. Some parents may not be understanding, even be offended when asked to take their annoying, screaming, unruly child outside; but I can pretty much guarantee that every other person paying the same amount of money to enjoy a quiet meal will thank them.
To all you parents out there: I don't go to places like Chuck E Cheese's expecting a quiet dining experience with fine wine and well prepared food. Walking in with those types of unreasonable expectations mean it's my own damn fault when my evening is ruined. This is the kind of logic you must also use when choosing a place to eat. If you insist on bringing your child to eat with you, either choose a restaurant geared toward keeping small children occupied, or be prepared to cut your dinner short when your child has thrown some sort of tantrum and you're disturbing the rest of the patrons (because you had to have adult food, but were too cheap to spring for a babysitter.) Here's a helpful tip: Chances are that if your dining establishment of choice does not have animated rodents, skee ball, or a mini pool filled with colorful, plastic balls, it is not acceptable to allow your child to cry itself to sleep at the table or run laps around the floor plan.
It all goes back to the age old saying: The needs of the many out-weigh the needs of the few.
***Now, if you are one of those breeders who feel everyone else should curb their needs in lieu of your precious baby's, please feel free to out yourself as both a moron and a bad parent by posting a comment. Do not, however, expect anything more than to be laughed at mercilessly.***
Monday, October 3, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Yes, I have an interesting job. Now kindly fuck off.
Do you have a job that everyone and their mother (literally) thinks they know everything about? Has your chosen profession inspired a wildly popular string of prime time TV shows? If so, I need you to take every ounce of annoyance and frustration you feel and magnify it by one angry badger. I'm a crime scene technician. In New Orleans. (You know, that city whose homicide rate is 10x that of the fucking Nation. The FBI's Uniform Crime Report for 2010 says so.) Everyday, without fail, no less than three random people feel the need to come up and comment on my job. I don't mean the scores of people who ask me legitimate questions. Those people I can (sort of) handle. I mean the ones who were obviously born without the ability to think before speaking. The ones who think they're pithy and cleaver and cute, and constantly reaffirm my general hatred for humanity as a whole. Granted, I'm not a 'people person' to begin with, but even Mother Theresa would have lost it after a few years of this shit.
So here are the most popular things I hear in one combination or another on a daily basis, and the instinctual replies I must constantly suppress (thus definitively proving that I have the will of a God). If you have any decency at all, you will remember these and never, EVER, spew them at unsuspecting people who are just trying to buy goddamn cup of coffee:
1. "I didn't do it!" (or any other witty one-liner you can think of)
What I want to say: I know you didn't, sugar, you're not smart enough to pull off this kind of crime. That's why I've decided to help you out by broadcasting your Prius as 'reported stolen' and hiding all kinds of fun and exciting forensic nuggets throughout it. Have fun on your 'Let's Stay Out of Prison' scavenger hunt! (Here's a hint: There are 11 pieces of evidence for you to find. Three are biological.)
2."CSI: New Orleans! Haha!"
What I want to say: "Please, for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, go play in traffic." (I refuse to come up with a more original retort if that is really the best they can do.)
3."Hey, how come you guys aren't wearing designer suits and makeup?"
What I want to say: "For the same reason all ER doctors aren't hearbreakingly beautiful and perfectly coiffed at all times. For the same reason that all of life's problems aren't solved within 30-60 minutes, ending with a lesson learned, a hug and a fucking cookie. Because this is the really, real world. Honestly, how do you function as an adult without the ability to discern the difference between fact and fiction? Please, tell me you haven't procreated."
4."Wow! Your job is so cool! I watch all the CSI shows, and NCIS, and Forensic Files, and blah blah blah..."
This one doesn't sound so bad, right? After all, they're just excited and curious about what I do, right? Wrong. Nine times out of ten this comes from some young girl with way too much energy who fancies herself an expert on the field of forensics because she watches every half-assed show possible. These are the ones who aspire to be the next 'Abby', yet cannot be bothered to actually do any research about any real forensics careers (nevermind actually cracking open a Chemistry textbook for more than just make-shift rolling papers). Everyone who has blurted this out to me expects that it will prompt a lengthy conversation in which I assure her that she is absolutely correct about everything she's "learned" about forensics. Trust me, after hearing it over and over and over again, eventually all you want to do is shove an LSD laden Croissan'Wich in their maw and watch them to go chase the bunnies.
What I want to say: "Please, don't speak; it's not your best attribute. Just continue to lower your standards and ignore even the tiniest glimmer of dignity, and I'm sure eventually someone will decide you're worth keeping around to do their laundry and occasionally screw."
5."Do they let you have all those tattoos at the police department?"
What I want to say: "I'm sitting here drinking my coffee, in uniform, with my radio positioned so I can hear it best, not 20 feet from a Crime Lab SUV, and have exchanged small talk with three NOPD Officers and a Sergeant who've passed by in the ten minutes since you sat down (none of whom so much as blinked at my excessive skin art)... Nope. They're completely against regulations, and thank you so very much for pointing out that I somehow forgot to wrap my arms in gauze to cover them before clocking in. Whew! It's a good thing you noticed before my boss did; it's just awkward when he tries to scrub them off with a Brillo Pad."
6."Crime Lab." (said in such a way as to imply a scandal)
What I want to say: ".............yeah, and? ... Oh, that was it. Were you just so proud of yourself for being able to recognize my profession by sight that you simply couldn't contain yourself? I wonder, am I the only one who gets this star treatment, or is this something you do constantly? Home Depot Cashier. Hooters Waitress. Bus Driver. Network Administrator. Astro-physicist. Panty Wrangler. Perhaps if you were looking for a reply you should have phrased your answer in the form of a question or, better yet, just go back to bagging my groceries in blessed silence."
Really, I get this more than you might think. I have no idea what it's supposed to mean, or how I am expected to respond to it. Invariably, however, my blank stare is never the proper reply. They all seem to expect me to say something, and actually get offended when I don't. Well, I am personally offended by their lack of communication skills. If the best you can come up with to say is what I am loathe to even call a declarative statement, then I am certainly not going to encourage you to assail my ears with anything else by acknowledging you.
7. (my personal favorite) "Do you work in the Crime Lab?"
What I cannot stop myself from saying: "No. I just really like the uniform."
To which I am always met initially with confusion, and then personal offense. I honestly don't understand why they get offended. Perhaps if they knew what I wanted to say, they would be delighted that a little sarcasm was all they were met with.
What I want to say: "What, exactly, gave you that idea? Tell me, Sparky, was it that I just finished parking this:
I'm adding this last one in because I have been getting it more and more often:
8."Hey! I saw you on TV last night!"
I honestly don't have a witty response to this one. My friends and (particularly my boyfriend's) family have been playing the 'Spot The Badger' game with the evening news for several years; and, since a photo of me took up a quarter of a page in the newspaper, even my neighbors have joined in. These things I can understand; after all, they know me. When a complete stranger, however, stops me on the street or in a shop to say they saw me, I find it to be a sad bit of commentary on the state of society today. These people seem to think a ten second snippet of video used to illustrate the report of a gruesome murder (during which I am obviously unaware of being filmed because I am busy photographing a dead man while trying to avoid stepping in the brain matter splattered on the sidewalk) is something I would be proud of. I realize that the crime (and specifically murder) rate in this city is high, but are these people really so desensitized to death and obsessed with media that just being shown on TV, regardless of the context, grants me some semblance of fame? Seriously, you fuckers make me sick.
So here are the most popular things I hear in one combination or another on a daily basis, and the instinctual replies I must constantly suppress (thus definitively proving that I have the will of a God). If you have any decency at all, you will remember these and never, EVER, spew them at unsuspecting people who are just trying to buy goddamn cup of coffee:
1. "I didn't do it!" (or any other witty one-liner you can think of)
What I want to say: I know you didn't, sugar, you're not smart enough to pull off this kind of crime. That's why I've decided to help you out by broadcasting your Prius as 'reported stolen' and hiding all kinds of fun and exciting forensic nuggets throughout it. Have fun on your 'Let's Stay Out of Prison' scavenger hunt! (Here's a hint: There are 11 pieces of evidence for you to find. Three are biological.)
2."CSI: New Orleans! Haha!"
What I want to say: "Please, for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, go play in traffic." (I refuse to come up with a more original retort if that is really the best they can do.)
3."Hey, how come you guys aren't wearing designer suits and makeup?"
What I want to say: "For the same reason all ER doctors aren't hearbreakingly beautiful and perfectly coiffed at all times. For the same reason that all of life's problems aren't solved within 30-60 minutes, ending with a lesson learned, a hug and a fucking cookie. Because this is the really, real world. Honestly, how do you function as an adult without the ability to discern the difference between fact and fiction? Please, tell me you haven't procreated."
4."Wow! Your job is so cool! I watch all the CSI shows, and NCIS, and Forensic Files, and blah blah blah..."
This one doesn't sound so bad, right? After all, they're just excited and curious about what I do, right? Wrong. Nine times out of ten this comes from some young girl with way too much energy who fancies herself an expert on the field of forensics because she watches every half-assed show possible. These are the ones who aspire to be the next 'Abby', yet cannot be bothered to actually do any research about any real forensics careers (nevermind actually cracking open a Chemistry textbook for more than just make-shift rolling papers). Everyone who has blurted this out to me expects that it will prompt a lengthy conversation in which I assure her that she is absolutely correct about everything she's "learned" about forensics. Trust me, after hearing it over and over and over again, eventually all you want to do is shove an LSD laden Croissan'Wich in their maw and watch them to go chase the bunnies.
What I want to say: "Please, don't speak; it's not your best attribute. Just continue to lower your standards and ignore even the tiniest glimmer of dignity, and I'm sure eventually someone will decide you're worth keeping around to do their laundry and occasionally screw."
5."Do they let you have all those tattoos at the police department?"
What I want to say: "I'm sitting here drinking my coffee, in uniform, with my radio positioned so I can hear it best, not 20 feet from a Crime Lab SUV, and have exchanged small talk with three NOPD Officers and a Sergeant who've passed by in the ten minutes since you sat down (none of whom so much as blinked at my excessive skin art)... Nope. They're completely against regulations, and thank you so very much for pointing out that I somehow forgot to wrap my arms in gauze to cover them before clocking in. Whew! It's a good thing you noticed before my boss did; it's just awkward when he tries to scrub them off with a Brillo Pad."
6."Crime Lab." (said in such a way as to imply a scandal)
What I want to say: ".............yeah, and? ... Oh, that was it. Were you just so proud of yourself for being able to recognize my profession by sight that you simply couldn't contain yourself? I wonder, am I the only one who gets this star treatment, or is this something you do constantly? Home Depot Cashier. Hooters Waitress. Bus Driver. Network Administrator. Astro-physicist. Panty Wrangler. Perhaps if you were looking for a reply you should have phrased your answer in the form of a question or, better yet, just go back to bagging my groceries in blessed silence."
Really, I get this more than you might think. I have no idea what it's supposed to mean, or how I am expected to respond to it. Invariably, however, my blank stare is never the proper reply. They all seem to expect me to say something, and actually get offended when I don't. Well, I am personally offended by their lack of communication skills. If the best you can come up with to say is what I am loathe to even call a declarative statement, then I am certainly not going to encourage you to assail my ears with anything else by acknowledging you.
7. (my personal favorite) "Do you work in the Crime Lab?"
What I cannot stop myself from saying: "No. I just really like the uniform."
To which I am always met initially with confusion, and then personal offense. I honestly don't understand why they get offended. Perhaps if they knew what I wanted to say, they would be delighted that a little sarcasm was all they were met with.
What I want to say: "What, exactly, gave you that idea? Tell me, Sparky, was it that I just finished parking this:
 |
| (Except when I park it, it actually fits between the lines.) |
Perhaps it was the fact that you had to speak over the dispatcher on the radio attached to my hip? Maybe, and I know this is just crazy talk here, you happened to notice (with your keen observational skills) the subtle, even understated, logo on my uniform:
 |
| (Used for illustration only. This is not the Badger you're looking for.) |
No. No, obviously I'm in the presence of a fucking psychic. Hey, Miss Cleo, the next time you're conversing with the beyond could you ask my grandmother for the winning Power Ball numbers so I can quit my job and never deal with you people again?"
I'm adding this last one in because I have been getting it more and more often:
8."Hey! I saw you on TV last night!"
I honestly don't have a witty response to this one. My friends and (particularly my boyfriend's) family have been playing the 'Spot The Badger' game with the evening news for several years; and, since a photo of me took up a quarter of a page in the newspaper, even my neighbors have joined in. These things I can understand; after all, they know me. When a complete stranger, however, stops me on the street or in a shop to say they saw me, I find it to be a sad bit of commentary on the state of society today. These people seem to think a ten second snippet of video used to illustrate the report of a gruesome murder (during which I am obviously unaware of being filmed because I am busy photographing a dead man while trying to avoid stepping in the brain matter splattered on the sidewalk) is something I would be proud of. I realize that the crime (and specifically murder) rate in this city is high, but are these people really so desensitized to death and obsessed with media that just being shown on TV, regardless of the context, grants me some semblance of fame? Seriously, you fuckers make me sick.
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