People are Fucking Idiots... Except for me... I'm cool.

This week has been one of the better weeks I have had in recent times. As is common knowledge, I fucking LOVE birthdays, and as mine happened to be Friday, I pretty much spent the entire week bringing it up at every possible moment. Come Friday, I got a delicious giant cupcake, a sensational McDonald’s related breakfast, AND probably the fanciest dinner I have had in my life. I'm not even kidding; there were numerous words on the menu at Soul Bar that I had never seen in my life. That’s when you know shits about to get fancy. If I can't pronounce an ingredient, you can assume I can't afford to cook the meal at home.

Unfortunately, Soul was also where I realised some people are just fucked in the head. Not a new realisation I suppose, but somehow over the last few days it has become abundantly clear just how many people out there are actually socially retarded. In the case of Soul Bar, it was a table full of odd looking "women" (there was one Asian "girl" who may or may not have had a penis), who demonstrated just how ridiculously ignorant people can be.

This came up when I searched "Asian Ladyboy"... God I hope noone sees my search history

First off, this gaggle of scarecrow looking bitches of assorted nationalities rolls up to the table in the loudest fashion possible short of discharging a firearm and announcing your arrival via loud hailer. Hideous girl laughing and over the top, shrill discussion ensued, presumably so that the few people in the room who didn't see them enter would now be fully aware of their presence. The girls must have been some level of famous (though not as much so as they seemed to have built up in their heads) because gay guys and more odd looking women flocked to the over the course of the next hour or so for pictures and more idiotic discussion. One of the uglier ones mentioned her YouTube channel at one stage, so I can only assume she was one of those cool as people with 200 views on their channel who now assume themselves Demi-God status.

This wasn't what fired me up though, oh no. The incessant nattering and fame whoreing I can handle. But one of the girls gets up at one stage, saunters over to our table where three of us are sitting, picks up our candle and just starts slowly retreating to her table. Obviously she could feel our combined confusion and judgement because she only got a few steps before uttering, in a shrill disgusting voice "Sorry!" and continued a few more steps as if she hadn't established what she was doing was NOT normal human practise! Actually, it was more "SARRY" than "Sorry", but I don't feel like I can convey the true irritance it caused through a text based medium, so please just imagine her as the quintessential dumb model. But not like a hot Heidi or Giselle kind of model, like a hideous crack whore model who is only a model because she looks odd enough to garner interest from your average person.

ANYWAY, the hoe proceeds to take a few more steps, says "I'm being rude", notices that one of us has a lighter and says "Oh, You have a lighter" and finally just stands there waiting to have the lighter given to her. Are you kidding? All of this happened without a word from us, so I can only imagine what was going through her crack whore mind, but surely some alarm should have been going off in there saying "Hey mate, maybe don't storm this table like fucking Normandy and actually ASK for one of the items to which you seem to feel entitled." Apparently not.

Unfortunately, however, this was not the end to the weekend stupidity. Fast forward to Saturday night. I've got a few people over to celebrate my birth, I've gone to bed and Drunk Kyo has tagged in. Everyone is having a good time, we’ve had a sensational birthday dinner cooked and are now drinking everything in sight as if we have only that night to finish it, otherwise we turn into cats. About 10 (I think) we decide we should probably order a taxi so we can actually get to town (otherwise where will Drunk Kyo spend all my hard earned money?). So one of the lads calls a taxi company. Let’s not name names here, we'll just call the Cheap Cabs LTD. So he takes a sip of his beer after like 50 years on the line waiting for Cheap Cabs to pick up, and as he swallows some death hoe (potentially the same hoe from Soul Bar, now that I think about it) Shrieks "CHEAP CABS" down the phone. First off, calm the fuck down. You're the first point of contact your customers have with your company, so maybe don't scream your attitude problem down the phone at them. Next, in the time it takes the beer to get from his mouth to the bottom end of his throat, I’m guessing like 20cm, and with the help of gravity, the stupid twat has hung up the phone. It was like a 3-4 second window in which there was no response, so she has obviously thought "well I answer the phone like a live fog horn on P, doesn't everyone? Obviously there is no one on the other end of this phone, or they would have answered halfway through my speaking." No. Normal people take breaks between sentences; listen to what the other party has to say, and fucking LET THE OTHER PERSON SPEAK. That is how conversations work. You can't have one on your own, unless you are actually two or more people, which is more likely to be a mental health issue as that’s fucking IMPOSSIBLE.

"God I hate my job, perhaps being an obnoxious bitch will help pass the time..."

So Drunk Kyo calls back, only to be hung up on. Drunk Kyo calls back again, and is informed that the taxi has been and gone because we didn't come out of the house. Our fault, right? No. Turns out the taxi never came down the drive, and despite having provided a contact number, no one attempted to inform us a taxi was waiting at the end of our long ass driveway which you cannot see from the house. Aparently, it's our responsibility to sense the taxi's arrival and stand in the rain waiting because it's too much effort for the driver to come down the 100m straight driveway, or give us a wuick call to tell us he's arrived. Ok, ok, I can understand that... sort of... so how far away is the taxi now? I wouldn't know, because the dick head on the other end of the phone hung up again. Your job is to answer a phone, right? Learn to use it properly you amateur! I've never worked in a call centre, and I get the feeling that if we went head to head in a phone using competition, I would Michael Phelps your ass. Long story short (or, at least not as long), a new taxi finally did arrive, came down the driveway, was AWESOME, and we got to town where Inappropriately drunk Kyo made yet another appearance. But that is a story for another time.

FINALLY, we get to the crux of this rant. Our neighbours are idiots. We live at the end of a rather long right of way. there are 6 houses, 3 down each side of the drive. We are the end house on the right. we have two parking spaces and a garage which will fit two cars. Our neighbours opposite us also have this exact arrangement. There are five of us, so I park on the road so as not to be a fucking inconvenience to others around me. It's called being a fucking human being. The neighbours, whose numbers could be anywhere from a family of four to a fucking battalion, don't seem to understand this.

"What? All the other parks were taken."

Since moving in, week in and week out we have had them/their family/the drug addicts to whom we are pretty sure they sell their wares park in the middle of the damn drive way, blocking us in either our garage or our parks because they are too fucking lazy to walk down the driveway. Its 100 god damn metres for fuck sakes. Occasionally, when leaving notes on their windshields asking them not to park their has failed, we have sent pictures to our landlord to ask them to stop (passive aggression FTW). Finally this morning, one of the lads emails the landlord with probably the worst example of parking I have seen in my life. She replies and says she is finally going to issue them an official letter telling them they have 14 days to stop their fuck-wittery. Great! Finally, some firm action.

Wait, what’s this? An email from the landlord? Oh, and the neighbours have issued a counter complaint about our parking? ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! I realise it's our word against theirs, but when one of them has physically run into one of our cars, you can generally assume they are the ones at fault. Also, where are your photos? Being of sound mental health, when we got fed up enough to complain, we took photos (you know, with a camera) so that the landlord could see what the go was, and so we wouldn't just look like whinging idiots. Didn't think of that? What a shame, I guess all the landlord will have to go on is our word and photographic evidence. Damn. So now, we get a 14 day notice as well, despite never having caused anywhere near the problems these retards have. Awesome.

So, in conclusion, I'm awesome, and people around me are idiots. Admittedly, this entire post sounds like I’m going through my monthly, and realistically contains next to nothing of value to anyone outside of my flat/circle of friends, but neither has anything else I've blogged about so far. Hurrah!

Once again, Stay Classy.

Kyo

Why I Hate Retail Customers

Why hey, I didn't see you there. Welcome to Lomez world, can I get you a cold beverage, perhaps a cigar? Please, make yourself at home.

In the past week I have had more things worth blogging about take place than any other so far, which is a fucking bonus because this shit is intense, man! All of my post so far have kind of just been directionless rants... so it was nice to do some things that I can actually talk about and people may take at least some kind of passing entertainment in reading them.

I saw The Avengers twice, which was FUCKING INSANE. Admittedly, the whole movie is basically The Hulk, Ironman and Friends, but those are the best characters anyway, so who gives a shit? If you're going to make a movie about a group of badass super heroes, I think it is the right decision to focus said movie around the giant green psychopath who likes to smash things and the quick witted billionaire in the flying metal death suit, over the Russian woman, whose only discernable power is having extremely questionable morals, or the guy with 20/20 vision for a super power. It’s all about excitement value, and these two characters bring it the fuck home.

Best. Gang. Ever.

Drunk Kyo also made an appearance this week, making the sensational decision to take the piss out of a friend because her new boyfriend was... wait for it... Tall. Tall? That’s the best you've got? As far as insults go, that’s a bit of a stretch. In almost every situation, in fact, being tall is seen as a fucking advantage for god sake. Turns out drunk Kyo may be lacking creativity just a little bit. I think the worst part is that the friend I'm referring to is someone I've only hung out with twice in a non-work environment, and both times Drunk Kyo has turned up and crazied shit up good and proper. The first time he took off his god damn pants in the middle of a game of beer pong, so i suppose this is progress at least? You can't just lay into casual acquaintances, is my main issue here. Close friends? Sure, tear them to shreds with your wit and vast arsenal of insulting terms and obscure references to pathetic 80's TV characters. People you hardly know? Leave them the fuck alone. You don't have the relationship base to ensure the friendship will continue following your tirade. Get it together, Drunk Kyo.

So the most exciting parts of my week were a movie about super heroes and my inappropriate drunk alter ego making an appearance... What of it? Those weren't really what I wanted to blog about today anyway, so settle the fuck down.
In addition to the aforementioned amazingness of this week, I had perhaps the most frustrating customer experiences I have ever had. Actually, that's a blatant lie. But they were enough to piss me off, and send me into the Herculean keyboard rage you are currently viewing.

I had thought about making this blog from the get go, because in all honesty, almost all customers piss me off, and being the retail drone that I am, I have plenty of sweet experiences to regale you with (and by "you", I am obviously referring to the 3 people who actually read this... and one of them is my mum... and she only reads it because I make her...). I had been resisting it though, because I sort of feel like stories about how bad work is, or how shit customers are, has been totally overdone, and I didn’t want it to seem like I was ranting about things people have already ranted about, just for a laugh.
That was, until this week. This week was just loaded with the kind of mentally retarded customers that typify the living hell that is retail. So much happened to piss me off, I had trouble focusing the rage into a coherent blog, so I've decided to list the 5 things that piss me off the most, because everyone cares what pisses me off, right? Right?

1. "Do you know where I could get **insert item we don't sell here**?" That has to be the stupidest question anyone can possibly ask another human being. You have come into my store, let’s call it "Nipple Rings Are Us". We sell nipple rings. It's in the fucking name, so you should have a fairly good idea of what you are getting yourself into prior to entering the store. However, every single god damned day some jackass comes in and say's "Where Are Your Earrings?". Being the polite king of customer service that I am, I kindly inform them in turn that we do not sell earrings (despite their obvious stupidity), only to have that fucking question asked yet again. "Oh, really? Where would I get those then?" You're in a store called NIPPLE RINGS ARE US. We sell fucking nipple rings, that is our product. You were the dumbass who came into the nipple ring store looking for earrings, and now you're asking the guy who only sells nipple rings where you can get earrings? You are the one with the interest in fucking earrings, OK? I don't give two fucks about them, I have no prior interest. What in god’s name gave you the idea that I know every body piercing retailer in the area, and have an understanding of their product range? ALSO, do not act like I'm being an asshole when I tell you I don't know where you would get the earrings. It isn't my job to know that. I sell NIPPLE RINGS, ask me about that shit and maybe I can be more help.

2. Troll customers just fucking shit up. This isn't your parent’s house, OK? If you take out every nipple ring I have in stock, and just throw that shit all over the show I have to clean it the fuck up. You were a normal human being, aware of how your actions impact others prior to entering the store (I assume), so what is it about being a customer that makes you completely forget how to coexist with others? The basic rule of thumb here is that if the shit you are messing up wouldn't clean itself if it were at your house, it won’t clean itself here, so exercise some fucking consideration and put the nipple rings back in their cabinet when you are done!

3. Being treated like I'm an asshole for offering customer service. So you have come into my nipple ring shop, right? You've made the conscious decision to enter my store, and look at my wares. I come over, because I know this shit. Nipple rings are my business, so I figure I can offer some help. "Can I help you?" I ask,
"Fucking No, OK? I don't want to buy your nipple rings, so go stand in the corner and play with leaking batteries."
Come on, man. I'm just trying to help, because 9 times out of 10 I have a better understanding of the product than the people who come into the store. It's my job to offer assistance. You could have just gone with "Just looking, thanks" or even "I'm fine.", but did you really have to look at me like I have AIDS and verbally fend me off so as not to catch my monkey STI?

4. You are not a lawyer. Having watched a couple of episodes of Fair Go or Target doesn't make you a qualified law professional. Also, it is generally easier for my working life to help you with your problem rather than trying to fob you off and deal with you ten thousand times. If you buy something from me, and it fucks up, let’s say the ring made your nipple disgusting and infected, I will do everything in my power to solve the problem for you, because that is your legal right. You're legal right is not, however, to make terrorist style demands hoping that I'll give you my fucking Kidney because it is my fault, personally, that you now have an infected nipple. I have  processes to follow. Quoting the name of an Act you heard on the television machine is not going to strike fear into my heart and force me to oblige your every request. Go to hell.

5. We close at 6. Not 6.15. Not 6.30. If you have something to do, and you've done it every god damned week for the past three months, and you know if takes 45 minutes to complete your tedious task, do not come in at 5.45 and expect me and my fully sick boys to wait around until you're done. we have lives outside of Nipple Rings Are Us. We don't want to be here all night. SORT YOUR SHIT OUT. Also, it is always older people who do this. You are the people with the most free time in your day. We both know you havn't been at work, so what were you doing that held you up this late and now has you impacting my day? Get it the fuck together.

Ugh, so that’s my retail rant. Sorry this one was a bit long, but hopefully reading this prevented you from going into a local retail store and pissing someone off for any amount of time. I like to think of it as a service to society.

Stay Classy,

Kyo