Rules of Engagement, Part 1 – Customers

There you are, shopping for groceries with your toddler. Things are going splendidly until said toddler spies something that he wants and you tell him “no”. Cue the mother of all temper tantrums, right there in front of all of the checkout lanes. Kicking, screaming, big crocodile tears, the whole nine yards. Just when this can’t get any more embarrassing (and, coincidentally, just when the wily and cagey child you’re raising realizes that you’re at the very end of your tether, patience-wise), this child puts on the most pathetic face in the world and wails, “Please, Mommy, don’t beat me again!”

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Rudeness now has the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval!

Nobody likes to get fleeced, or even pay more than they should for an item or service. There are plenty of websites and publications where bargain-hunters are able to find new ideas for saving money. Message boards and coupon code sites abound. Recently, though, a trend has popped up among magazines. They’re publishing the usual articles on how to save a few bucks, but the methods they’re advocating basically translate to, “Be a big pain in the ass to save 10%!” The writers of these articles are telling you to haggle, be condescending, make a scene, and do everything else you can to make a customer service person’s life miserable.

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Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?

Y’know what I can’t stand?


Putting stuff off for whatever reason, making people wait around until they get their shit together.

People like me.

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“This is the most fun I’ve had without lubricant.”

Dear Leigh Whannell,

Hi there! I’m a huge fan of the movie Saw, which you wrote and co-starred in. I love the premise, I love the twistedness of it, and while I felt that Saw II paled in comparison without your guidance, I hope that Saw III will be back on track.

I also think, of course, that you’re a really good-looking guy, and consider you to be one of my future ex-husbands. If you happen to be in L.A. still, perhaps we could get together for a coffee some time.

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Oh, bite me.

Attention, makers of vampire movies:

Stop this idiocy. Listen, it’s always the same with you people. Fashion mistakes and cliched “dramatic” shots. If I were a vampire, do you really think that I’d draw my head back at that alarming angle and open my mouth that wide just to show off my Lee Press-On Fangs? And with that weird hissing sound they all seem to make? No. Because it gives the victim time to stop and think for a second, and that potential victim could take advantage of those extra two seconds to shove a stake through my heart. I mean, DUH! Aside from that, it just looks stupid, and there are so many other ways you can make sure that we know that the person is a vampire withOUT using it. Come on. Are you really going to just slack like this? Use your BRAIN, people!

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All I wanted was a Pepsi!

Those wacky folks at the TSA have done it again! I gotta tell ya, they’re real jokers over there (you don’t even want to KNOW what their holiday party is like every year – it takes them all a week to recover, but they have stories for months afterward).

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Sonic heartbreak.

Sonic, why do you hate me so much? I’ve never ever done anything hurtful to you, and this is how you treat me?

I’ve got years of Sonic experience. My first time, it was in North Carolina, just outside of Lake Norman. I was introduced to Sonic, and as soon as I heard that you had tater tots on your menu, I was hooked. The burger was damn good as well. Then, the next year, in Texas. Waxahachie, to be exact. Heat wave. We found a drink combination that you probably hadn’t thought of. (If you combine Bombay Sapphire Gin and your delicious Cherry Limeade, you get the Cherry Bombade, and a big vat of that is the PERFECT beverage to help one through a brutally hot day.) The one and only time I ever got even a teensy bit stoned (it was quite by accident), the only thing for it was to head to Sonic (this one in Apache Junction, AZ) and devour half of the menu before I headed off for a nap. I have been to Sonic Drive-Ins all over the country. And I love them all.

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If Suzuki told you to jump off a cliff, would you?

You may, if you are so inclined, call me anal-retentive. You could call me picky, exacting, or any other number of different words that mean, essentially, that I’m paying some attention to the world around me. And you would totally be right. But listen, that damn Suzuki commercial for their SUV really chafes my butt.

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Keeping abreast of the issues.

What on earth is wrong with people? Heaven knows that’s a question I ask myself at least five or ten times a day. My friend Colleen thinks that with the way I get so riled up over things, I should just have a blood-pressure cuff installed so that we can monitor the fluctuations as I go about my day. (Hmm…maybe I could have it electronically linked to this site. That would be pretty amusing, now that I think about it.)

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The best a man can get?


Yeah, you, with the blades and the cartridges and the “shaving systems”. We need to talk.

I have been an ardent fan of razors. If it removes hair, I’m ready to try it. Waxing will always be my favourite method of depilation, but I can’t afford to go get waxed every six weeks as is recommended, and I don’t hate myself enough to attempt in-home waxing ever again.

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