I saw a flaming jackass throw his cigarette out his car window today, which started me musing on things that piss me off. I remember one time when we lived in Marin when this happened. Ayla must have been maybe 8 or 9 at the time. We were stopped at a red light in Corte Madera in the left lane, and beside us in the right lane was a blonde bimbo yakking on her cell phone and puffing away -- until she blithely tossed her fag out the car window. Red light. Stopped in traffic. I threw it into Park, jumped out, marched around the car, picked up her stinky butt, and tossed it right back into her lap. Ditz never missed a beat, just told her caller, "Oh my god, some crazy woman just got mad about my cigarette".
Hah.
Hell, it felt good.
OK, here's another one. Our first summer in Denver, mid-July, baking hot -- my car thermometer read 104 degrees. I'm driving down Arapahoe Road, and here's a guy on the corner, wearing a Quiznos cup costume. (Here's what it looked like, though the guy was just sagging there limply, being fully ensconced in vinyl in the hot sun. He wasn't moving much.
I pulled over and went to talk to him. Turns out the poor guy speak no Ingles, just some immigrant sucker out to make a buck, and the asshole Quiznos Subs store manager on Arapahoe Road in the Denver Tech Center tossed the guy out there in the broiling sun in the full-body vinyl costume, to dance around for the lunch crowd at the peak of the day's heat.
I asked him if he was okay -- he said in broken Spanglish that he didn't feel so good. So, I piled the guy and his costume (AND his empty size-medium Quiznos soda cup -- that was his hydration for three hours in the sun) and drove him back across the street and into the strip mall to the Quiznos. Got him indoors, and barked for the store manager, PRONTO. And I climbed right up into her grill.
The squat, tubby woman was all beligerant and in my face -- "it's not that hot, he's only out there for a couple of hours, he should have said he didn't want to do it." IDIOT BITCH.
I explained to her that her brain-dead decision to send a full-body costumed character out to get dizzy and faint in the sun did not reflect well on the Quiznos Corporation, and that I was going to write an article about it, and get right on the horn with the VP of Franchise Marketing for Quiznos, and get them riled up about it. I was ROYALLY pissed off. I HATE it when people do stupid-ass things at work, and this was just such a dumb decision, it was amazing.
When I got back to my office, sure enough, I called Quiznos corporate, and totally freaked out their VP of Marketing. It was glorious. And writing the article was fun.
And, ever since then, I have refused to patronize Quiznos -- because it wasn't the only Bad Quiznos Story I came across. (Note: Googling "Bad Quiznos Experience" brings up 204,000 hits.)
I guess I just have a short fuse when it comes to boneheaded behavior -- especially when I experience it first-hand. I have always known that I have a strong righteous streak, and defending the underdog has always been important to me.
Onward and upward.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Short Pants Got No Reason
So I ordered a bunch of new outfits from Ulla Popken, a catalogger/online retailer that I have really liked in the past. Because I'm a big broad, finding good clothes has never been easy, and I like Ulla's blend of lovely details with quality fabrics and construction.
But I'm a mite peeved this time. I'm tall, and I almost always opt to buy my pants with the "Tall" size rather than "Average". I picked out a couple of Ulla suits that I really had coveted from looking at the catalog photos -- one a navy pinstripe with white piping, the other a grey glen plaid with a long blazer. Both suits came with just ridiculously short pants. The catalog said a 30" inseam, but when I actually got out the tape measure (after trying them on and gasping) the navy pants had a scant 28" inseam, while the plaid ones were barely 29" -- and that's a LOT when it comes to pants, especially since "a great length" for me is usualoly 32" or even 33".
Grrrrrr.
So I called Ulla Popken, spoke to a very nice customer service rep, who gave me the most bizarre reason for the shorties: It seems that they make the inseam SHORTER as the sizes get BIGGER. And their "average length" (as in, "the length the catalog lists as the actual length")is really just the length for the size smaller than I had ordered.
Which made me think, since their sizes went up three more from what I ordered, did the biggest size come with a 22" inseam?
Jeez Louise.
After much thinking about it, I decided, what the hell. I kept both suits, and I just wear them both with aplomb, with ankle pants, as the style.
But man! A dream of mine is to someday find a way to get nice pant suits that really and truly FIT me.
Which makes me think about tailoring -- I have never had anything tailored. I've been chicken, thinking it'd be too expensive. (OK, not true -- I did have a dress "altered" when I bought it from Harper Greer in San Francisco, and it felt like SUCH a luxury! But that's it.)
In my dreams, I could even find someone who knows how to sew, who could copy two different very simply constructed suits I own -- but make the pants, sleeves, and jacket just a bit longer. I would love that.
Sigh... this is what happens when you exist beyond the bell curve of normal size. But I wouldn't want to trade it for anything! I am happy with myself, I am who I am and I don't ever want to be just like everyone else.
But I'm a mite peeved this time. I'm tall, and I almost always opt to buy my pants with the "Tall" size rather than "Average". I picked out a couple of Ulla suits that I really had coveted from looking at the catalog photos -- one a navy pinstripe with white piping, the other a grey glen plaid with a long blazer. Both suits came with just ridiculously short pants. The catalog said a 30" inseam, but when I actually got out the tape measure (after trying them on and gasping) the navy pants had a scant 28" inseam, while the plaid ones were barely 29" -- and that's a LOT when it comes to pants, especially since "a great length" for me is usualoly 32" or even 33".
Grrrrrr.
So I called Ulla Popken, spoke to a very nice customer service rep, who gave me the most bizarre reason for the shorties: It seems that they make the inseam SHORTER as the sizes get BIGGER. And their "average length" (as in, "the length the catalog lists as the actual length")is really just the length for the size smaller than I had ordered.
Which made me think, since their sizes went up three more from what I ordered, did the biggest size come with a 22" inseam?
Jeez Louise.
After much thinking about it, I decided, what the hell. I kept both suits, and I just wear them both with aplomb, with ankle pants, as the style.
But man! A dream of mine is to someday find a way to get nice pant suits that really and truly FIT me.
Which makes me think about tailoring -- I have never had anything tailored. I've been chicken, thinking it'd be too expensive. (OK, not true -- I did have a dress "altered" when I bought it from Harper Greer in San Francisco, and it felt like SUCH a luxury! But that's it.)
In my dreams, I could even find someone who knows how to sew, who could copy two different very simply constructed suits I own -- but make the pants, sleeves, and jacket just a bit longer. I would love that.
Sigh... this is what happens when you exist beyond the bell curve of normal size. But I wouldn't want to trade it for anything! I am happy with myself, I am who I am and I don't ever want to be just like everyone else.
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