You know it’s been a crazy few weeks when I start writing this post on a Thursday and don’t finish it for two weeks because I’ve lost control of my life.
Put on your walkin’ shoes, my dudes. It’s time for Frustration Friday!
On our 10-minute drive to work, there are probably four different kinds of crosswalks. Now, the kind with a crossing guard doesn’t bother me because, obviously, little ones need to get safely to and from school.
There’s also the kind of crosswalk that has the yellow pedestrian sign with flashing lights. When somebody is going to cross, they push the button to make the lights flash so you don’t hit them with your car. The lights start flashing as soon as they push the button so the pedestrian can start walking right away and it’s up to the driver to stop.
The crosswalk that is a stoplight. This is the bane of my existence.
This kind of crosswalk works like a regular traffic light except there’s no cross street. If you are waiting to cross, you press the button and wait for the “walk” signal. Meanwhile, the traffic light turns red so cars know that they should stop.
At least, this is how it’s supposed to work.
There are two of these crosswalks on our daily drive to work, and nobody seems to know how they work.
Everybody just presses the button and then crosses the street immediately, which means that the light isn’t red yet and cars haven’t been told to stop. By the time the light does turn red, the pedestrian is long gone and I’m just sitting there in my car at a red light for no reason.
Y’know how you drive on the right side of the street and yield at intersections so you don’t get into a crash?
Shopping carts are like cars. Store aisles are like roads. There are major roads and minor roads. Walk and push your cart on the right side of the aisle. Yield when merging with a bigger aisle.
And, for the love of all that is holy, if you must stop to send a text message or check your shopping list, pull over. Find a space where you and your cart can safely fit out of the way to take care of whatever business is so important in your phone.
This next bit doesn’t fit with the driving metaphor, but oh well. If you’re shopping in a large group, be aware of the other customers around you. Don’t walk so slowly with your entire famn damily that nobody can pass you.
And walk in a straight line. Don’t weave. If you weave, I have no idea where you’re going and no idea how to pass you.
Dexter’s Frustrations: Buzzkills
While complaining about a complainer seems hypocritical, it is a very specific subset of Negative Nancies that frustrates me to no end.
This is the person on the team who, when we are afforded a pizza party free of charge, must make it known that “Pizza really isn’t my favorite.” The kind who takes every opportunity to cast an annoying grey pall over any positive situation.
Sometimes they’re the simple complain-about-everything type, but they can also be the abject contrarian. This person hurls their distaste into the most mundane of situations, trying to pass it off as a joke, and pushes the limits of acceptable workplace, public, or human behavior.
“We have a team meeting at 11,” says the manager of a team who enjoys the meetings. The contrarian responds, “What if I just don’t go?” and smiles the smile of one who doesn’t understand the brain-grating effect of hearing this kind of response to every suggestion.
Cynicism, negativity, and even contrariness have a place in acceptable and even good human interaction, but all have their limits. Those who complain and contrarify kill the fun in communication and make the world a more frustrating place to be.