Monday, August 1, 2011

You Are A Squash.

Recently I have come to the realization that I hate people. Correction: I hate stupid, ignorant, rude, inconsiderate, self-righteous, selfish people. Squashes. Which apparently happen to be an astonishingly large amount of the human population.

My brother told me of an incident that happened to his choir, in which a young girl had the opportunity to sing a beautiful song by Regina Spektor, entitled Samson, referring to the man in the Bible. However, the song is not true to the story and is embellished, so it's not really a story from the Bible, but just a pretty song.
Anyway, this girl performed the song at a concert and did very well, but a certain parent was NOT happy. Apparently they went up to the choir teacher afterward and rudely expressed their extreme dissatisfaction with the musical number because "they did not believe in the Bible". And so, this aspiring singer was not allowed to perform this song in any further concerts.
I'm sorry, squash, but I don't believe in evolution according to Darwin and yet I have had this belief forced upon me for the past 12 years in public school. You are the definition of a squash, and I hope you someday learn to keep your nose out of everyone else's squashes.

The other day Zach and I wanted to play pool in our apartment's clubhouse, but the deadbolt on the door was locked and so our key cards did us no good. Zach politely called the office and they said they would be right over to unlock it.
Half an hour passes, and no one has shown up. So Zach walks over to the office and asks again and they reply with "oh, sorry! we'll send someone right over". Another half hour passes and still no one has come. Zach calls again and asks them to unlock it again in addition to questioning why it takes them an hour to walk 200 yards. Finally, half an hour later, a very annoyed looking employee takes an extra 20 seconds out of his day to walk into the clubhouse and unlock the room. Thank you, squash.

My grandmother passed away a little over a month ago, and of course my mother took it hard. She works so hard at her shizzy job, 8+ hours a day, 6+ days a week and NEVER gets any 'thank you' for it from her coworkers. A couple weeks ago, one of her coworker's dog died. Their dog. And everyone was organizing a sympathy card and a gift for them, while talking about what a tragedy it was. No one signed a card for my mom. Only a handful of people acknowledged her grief when far more knew of the event.
Then a week or so ago a different coworker's mother died, and my mom was witness to a conversation where management said they had to get a card and gift ready right away. When a coworker brought it to management's attention that nothing was done for my mom, they said "Two wrongs don't make a right." No apology. No acknowledgment that my mother was even standing right next to them. Dear people of my mother's work: You are squashes.

And here is a quick little thing to read through if you're wondering if you're a squash:
  • If you drive 5+ miles under the speed limit: You are a squash.
  • If you cut other drivers off due to your lack of attention/courtesy to others/general stupidity: You are a squash.
  • If you leave your shopping cart in the middle of a parking space when the cart return is a mere 10 steps away from you: You are lazy. And you are an squash.
  • If you look down on someone for pushing carts: You obviously have never done manual labor in your life, due to the fact that you're overweight and clearly a self-righteous snob. You are a squash.
  • If you barely drive the speed limit in the far left lane: You are a squash.
  • If you pee all over the toilet seat in a public bathroom and don't flush: You are a squash.
  • If you insist upon acting like everyone's mother: You are a squash.
  • If you can't be bothered to lift a finger for an important event in your family's life: You are a selfish squash.
  • If you act like a squash: You are a squash.
Many other actions/characteristics may define you as a squash, but I cannot list all the attributes of one, as they are enumerable. These are just a few incidents that really piss me off.


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