Recently in Pisses Me Off Category

I got the afternoon off of work today, my thanks for putting in some extra time this past Tuesday for the Art History Department. The only thing I had to do to finish off my week was drop something off at DHL, but figured there was some place in West Hollywood I could that. I was shipping an old iBook I had to somebody, so I figured the place I usually use would have DHL pickup. Turns out that was not the case, as they are now a UPS Store, and I guess DHL can go fuck themselves.

I had to get a haircut, so I decided to use my trusty iPhone to see where the next nearest DHL location was while Chelsea was doing her thing. Luckily, there was a location in the neighborhood that looked like it would work perfectly. See, it's a postal center, and more! And as a bonus, it is owned and operated by Mary R. Gonsalves. How can I lose? Well, it turns out that Mary is exceedingly cheap. The box already had the shipping paid for, but to seal the return, I needed some tape. I asked Mary if she would tape it up for me, and she said I could buy tape. I don't mind paying for somebody to box the thing up, but I only needed to seal one end of a box that was less than six inches long. Should I really be forced into buying 15 yards of tape just for that box?

I pleaded with Mary, and deep down, I thought that anybody who would plaster pictures of Rip Taylor around their place of business couldn't be that bad, but Mary proved me wrong. I said I already had the box, but just needed some tape. She said "I am here to provide a SERVICE! You don't pay me. DHL doesn't pay me. How do I run a business like that!?" OK Mary, calm down. At this point, I didn't mind paying for tape, but what was I going to do with 15 yards of tape? So, I asked Mary if I could buy one foot of tape off of her roll. Mary boxes things for other people, but she wouldn't sell me tape. I said "OK, I am sorry." She pointed the tape out to me, and I said "Thank you." and walked out the door. What the fuck. I wonder if Rip Taylor knows that his image is being used to help this woman sell lazy bastards rolls of unnecessary tape. Her investment in some free tape, which might end up costing her $.01 might have turned into more business for her, but what do I know? She has been in West Hollywood for 19 years.

Thankfully, the iPhone found another place for DHL, and it was on my way to Rock and Roll Ralph's. Mister Mail was awesome. I walked in, said I needed to drop a package off for DHL. They said "Sure!" and when I handed it to them, they said "Would you like us to tape it up for you?". I said "Please!" and "How much do I owe you?". They said "Oh, nothing." like I was some retard for even asking. Their service was so refreshingly great compared to Mary that Mister Mail is going to become my official pack and ship location from now on.

Thanks Mr. Mail! Go to hell Mary!

So, I'm going through the blog, attempting to finish up some old entries that I was too lazy to publish. One of them was called "Reply-to-all". I try to keep in touch with people as much as possible, and I do it through e-mail. The problem is that I don't always get right to my e-mail, so it may be weeks or months before I get around to replying to something. But that has absolutely nothing to do with what I am talking about.

The title "Reply-to-all" had to do with a particularly annoying part of e-mail correspondence. I generally can't stand forwards, but I understand why people send them, and I read all of the ones sent to me. I guess the thing that really pisses me off about mass e-mails is the way people will reply to everybody instead of just replying to sender.

As rants go, this is a pretty week one, I'll admit, but it pissed me off enough one day that I had to write something about it. I figure if I establish enough of my neuroses, I will eventually have a built-in insanity defense in less than a decade.

I love my little section of Los Angeles. West Hollywood may not be perfect, but I have a great apartment, a clean neighborhood, and although the Sunset Strip is within earshot, I rarely have to deal with noisy/drunk people so much that it affects me. Sure, every now and then you hear a fight outside, or some people who had a little too much to drink celebrating the end of their night, but it's usually only a few minutes on the weekend and I fall back asleep.

That doesn't mean I have noise problems, of course. In my case, most of the noise is coming from my building. I really don't want to sound like an old man, because I used to throw a rowdy party every now and then, but the parties were on the weekend.

The major noise in my building comes from one person, who I think is a bartender, who comes home and needs to unwind. His methods of unwinding vary from drinking a lot can screaming on the balcony, to drinking a lot, playing loud muse, screaming on the balcony, slamming lawn furniture against his balcony, and all sorts of other things.

I wouldn't really care but, you know, he does get back from work at like 3 or 4 AM, and he doesn't limit his rantings to the weekend. There is nothing worse than waking up at 4AM, listening to somebody making noise, and wondering if you are going to be able to fall asleep before your alarm wakes you up again.

One of these days, I will stop complaining and just call the cops, but sometimes my bed is just too comfortable to get up and deal with the 5-0. Besides, I figure the odds that the po-po will drive by when this guy is going all nuts and shit and take care of the problem themselves.

This morning, as I am returning from my morning run (about 7:30 AM), I pass by my building where the cops are talking to somebody about a noise complaint! Reason to be excited, right?

WRONG!

The cops were talking to the two dudes that come by and do landscaping on our property. Somebody was upset at a hearing a leaf blower or something at 6AM or whatever (PS, great response time Sheriffs!). Gas leaf blowers have been banned, which is fine, but it means that electric leaf blowers are legal. Besides, these guys are paid to be here by our building management. If they get there too early, blame the management! And I've heard the leaf blowers; they are not as loud as this guy playing his awful death metal at 4:30 AM!

If any of you are still reading, you are probably wondering if I have a point. And yes, there is a point. If you are going to nark on somebody, at least do it effectively. And even if it is not going to be effective, at least make it passive aggressive in some way. If you can't accomplish either one of these tasks, please just stay in bed.

On my commute this morning, I nearly hit some guy on San Vincente as he was crossing the street. Of course, he wasn't using the crosswalk. What was worse was that this jab decided to jaywalk about twenty feet away from the crosswalk, so it was completely unnecessary. What's worse than that is that this guy was a doctor, so he should have been smart enough to use the crosswalk twenty feet away or at least rich enough to have his assistant go get his Starbuck's for him. Who knows, perhaps he believed that being so close to the Emergency Room, he was playing with pretty good odds.

No, my new (for me) car doesn't piss me off, but it has had a rough first couple of weeks of ownership. The first week was great, but then St. Patty's day happened. I woke up the next day to find that somebody had keyed my car - hard core - on both sides AND the trunk. Be warned, if I see anybody keying any car in my neighborhood, I will skip the cops and just put a brick through their car window.

Oh, and by the way, I also received a pticket the night before. I then received a ticket for parking on the wrong side of the street and today was the worst. I got a ticket AND towed because I forgot to place the stupid fucking parking permit on my rearview, meaning they couldn't tell the difference between me and my Acura and all of those kids from the Valley who were driving their parents BMW/Mercedes and decided to come to Hollywood. Normally if I wake up to see that I spent $200 at 1AM, I can at least be happy that the words "rub" or "tug" were involved.

Now please excuse me while I cry myself to sleep.