Pet Peeves

Every now and again, I just have to vent about the little things in life that seemingly go unnoticed until the moment you realize that you really hate them. Lately a few things have been brought to my attention that would be absolutely criminal for me not to mention. So, here it is, my latest batch of pet peeves.

Stinky Workplace Bathrooms – People are only human, and the need to take care of business after lunch, particularly when lunch was hitting that new curry bar by the mall, is a fact of life. I have no problem with anyone doing what they have to do, but lately at my workplace, it seems that whoever got to the bathroom before I did never had a clue about the term ‘courtesy flush’. Holy cow that room was lethal! If you know you have to drop a serious bomb, please have the decency to bring some matches, perhaps your own little can of Lysol (if you do this on a regular basis), and at the very least, keep in mind that a courtesy flush only takes a second, but it will save someone’s eyes from watering and nostril hairs from singeing right out of their nose.

Truck Balls – I can deal with a crude redneck joke, after all I grew up in Idaho, a state that is basically one, big redneck joke, but whoever decided that it would be cool to market plastic scrotum to hang off the trailer hitch of your pickup truck was just flat wrong. I couldn’t believe it the first time I stopped at a parking lot in Federal Way, Washington (what a shock) and saw this neon pink sack dangling from a gas-guzzling Chevy. I did a double then a triple take and still couldn’t believe it. Now I see them everywhere, so it’s time to lash out with some good ol’ fashioned verbal abuse for the asshole with the truck balls, because you may think it’s a joke, but you don’t have to field questions from my toddler as to what’s hanging off your pickup.

First things first, if you do not live on a farm, regularly haul large equipment, own a boat or other recreational vehicles that need to be taken from Point A to Point B, or volunteer to help your friends or relatives move all the time why the fuck do you need a truck? Seriously, your cowboy fantasy is emitting way too much in the way of greenhouse gases just because you need to feel like a man, and I’m not down with that. If you don’t fit any of the above criteria for owning a truck, and on top of that, have a set of truck balls hanging off the back, then you are big fucking loser.

The best way I see to solve the truck ball issue is to automatically assume that every guy who has a set of truck balls is secretly driving a big truck and buying plastic scrotum, because he has a very small penis and feels like he needs to be macho to make up for his tiny dick. There you go, everyone, from now on every time you see a set of truck balls, point and laugh at the guy driving the truck. When he asks what you are laughing about (i.e. looking to you to affirm that his truck balls are funny), you can just ask him if he had to buy those plastic balls to replace the real ones he wishes he had.

Cougar Bashing – I’m not talking about football or sports teams here. I’m talking about the term used in popular culture to describe an older woman who dates a younger man. Demi Moore is a “cougar” as is Tina Turner, and now Katie Couric, but what really pisses me off is the how the media uses the term “cougar” like it’s a bad thing. The New York Post describes Katie as “devouring” her new 33-year-old beau. I realize the woman has gargantuan teeth, but she is the most unaggressive person (except when she’s interviewing Democratic presidential hopefuls whose wives have cancer). Years ago the media nearly nailed Cher to a cross for getting with a younger guy, yet the most shriveled, scary looking, old farts can bang a girl barely out of high school, and that’s okay? WTF! Cougars are lovely and should be celebrated not bashed.

Job Interviewing – I’ve flown to California twice at my own expense to interview for jobs that don’t exist. The first time I interviewed for a job where they said they wanted an Event Director, but in actuality, the Executive Director of the non-profit really wanted to be the Event Director and was just looking to hire a little gopher girl who would ask “how high?” whenever he said “jump”. The second job that didn’t exist was advertised in early February. The first time I spoke with the organization they said they needed someone who would be available sooner than I would be, so I thanked them and went on with my life. They called me three weeks later and asked me to come in for an interview, so I booked the plane ticket and did a great interview. I was told I would get a follow up call within a couple of days, after nearly two weeks, I called them (which is uncharacteristic of me), and found out that the job no longer existed. A week later I got the “thanks, but no thanks” email. For the job to no longer exist, the woman interviewing me (who happened to be the director of the department) had to have known at the time of the interview that maybe, just maybe the fucking position might be eliminated, so what gives?

I don’t mind interviewing for jobs. I like finding out about different organizations, and giving them a chance to hear my ideas, but all I ask is that the job actually exist. It will be interesting to see what interviews I’ll do over the next few months in an attempt to find a new job. Maybe, in the end, I’ll just say, “fuck it” and start my own revolutionary political party.