I ordered a special ipod case that I couldn't get locally. They shipped by a company i'll call "useless parcel service".
My address correctly appeard on the shipping confirmation from the store as Blah Blah Powell Street. So both I and the retailer got it right. The shipping form is sent directly TO useless parcel service, and then chaos ensues.
I gave it a few days to clear the border, and when I checked the tracking online, they attempted delivery on the 14th, 16th, 17, and finally the 18th. I didn't receieve any notice. (they're usually smacked to the window of my building's lobby.) Odd.
So I call up. They confirm my phone number. Turns out they've been attempting delivery to a "blar blar HARPO street." What? I yelp. The clerk goes "oh, wait, no, we have Powell listed. Heh. sorry!" I reconfirm my correct information and contact info three times. The case will be shipped monday. Okay!
WRONG. They attempt to deliver to "HARO street." I call and I yell anew.
They say then they'll actually get it to me today. And they did, at 7 pm. I've been hanging around ALL day waiting. my dog is unhappy. I'm unhappy. The mistaken address is a 3 minute drive from the correct address.
What they claimed is that they couldn't access the building to leave a note, and was I really sure I lived at this building, this floor? I say yes, the powell st address is correct.
And then, my husband pops up on IM to point out that the incorrect address is, according to google maps, a parking lot.
So I spent all day convincing Useless package service I don't live in a parking lot. aieee.
The final kicker is that the darn thing is the one in a million that's defective and has to be exchanged.
Edit to update: the company's replacing the defective case, and refunding the shipping fee, which I didn't expect,but is so appreciated, and was ready to do battle on my own with the shipping co, as it wasn't the supplier's fault the shipping company can't read.
And I still don't live in a parking lot. :D
My co-worker: "Do you know what the url for ticketmaster dot com is?"
So yesterday at school, I was having the "How was your summer?" conversation with one of my students and she told me this amazing story:
Student: "Well, it was pretty good, but my dad's security company had to take a bunch of extra jobs because the place where they were working -- a metal salvage place -- basically fired them."
Me: "Fired them? Why, what happened?"
Student: "Well, some guys came and shot at my dad and my sister while trying to steal stuff, so the next day, the owner of the yard called my dad in and said, 'Since those guys are probably scared to come back, I guess we won't need you full-time any more.'"
Yeah, 'cause having a shooting at your business means you need LESS security.
I work in a bar. I was recently working an under-age gig (this means no alcohol is allowed in the bar because there are people there under the age of 18 which is the legal drinking age in New Zealand) and so we were just selling coke, lemonade, energy drinks and other similar things. Aside from the numerous people coming up to me and, after perusing the bar for a few minutes and NOT SEEING any alcohol, asking me for a beer, one particular kid stood out in my mind.
He came up to the bar and pointed at the fridge and said "can I have that one?"
Me: Which one?
DumbKid: *still pointing at an entire fridge of drinks* that one
Me: *grinds teeth* WHICH one?
DumbKid: That one. In the middle of the shelf.
Me: Which middle? *points to the top shelf, middle shelf and bottom shelf*
DumbKid: That one. The blue one. (as I'm pointing to the middle)
Me: You mean LEMONADE, which is clearly labelled as being lemonade, which you can see from there?
Dumbkid: yeah, I suppose so.
Also, my dear friend and flatmate who, after the two of us have had a long discussion about my judaism and that I don't eat ham or other porcine products, tells me that there's "ham in the fridge and rolls in the cupboard if [I'm] hungry".
I just kinda looked at her till she realised what she'd said.
Sitting at work at my university, and a woman just walk in, and asked me where the procurement office was. I have no idea, which I told her, and she responded with, "well, it's on the third floor." ...ok. Granted, even if it was on this floor, which apparently by reminding me what floor I was on would cause me to remember, there's a decent chance I wouldn't know. I've worked here 3 years but I'm just a workstudy, we don't do anything with any other department. But I'm in a basement office. You can't get here without going DOWN a flight of stairs from one of the entrances. If you look out any of the very high windows you see people's feet. I told her she had to go upstairs, and got "oh, it's one more floor up?" She had an American accent, but even if she was used to the European system and knew stories worked a bit differently here...wtf? Of course the third floor is at the bottom of the staircase, what was I thinking. And it's northern NJ, and school hasn't started yet, so it's not like she's never been in a building with more than one floor.
So, I was sitting on a tire swing at the park with my little brother and...
Kid: *throws pebbles and sand at me*
Me: Hey, knock it off.
Kid: *continues to throw stuff*
Me: I just told you to stop that!
Kid: I don't have to, it's a free country.
Me: There are five freedoms here and throwing sand ain't one of 'em.
Me: You don't have a right to throw stuff at me.
Kid: I do too! It's called being a free country.
Me: Okay. *kicks sand at him*
Kid: I'm telling my dad on you and he'll beat you up!
I really don't know where people get this idea that 'free country' means they can do anything they want but it's really stupid. I'm not free to, for example, take a crap on my neighbor's front porch. I'm not free to murder people. I'm not (sadly) free to shave my dad's eyebrows off while he sleeps. And kid, you are not free to throw stuff at me. Funny part is, these kids' parents (who should definitely know better) often back them up on this whole 'free country = free to do anything' idea.
Another dumb moment: The other day in one of my classes I heard two people discussing how celebrity #1 was suing celebrity #2 for slander (according to them, #2 had been caught on tape insulting celeb #1 and saying a lot of completely untrue things about her).
Girl: Yeah, he said mean stuff about her but God, this is a free country!
Boy: Exactly. What the fuck is this, Nazi Germany? We still have freedom of speech here, don't we?
Me: *butts in* Uh, freedom of speech doesn't mean you can walk around saying anything about anyone.
Boy: *confused* ...Yes, it does.
Me: No, it doesn't. It means-
Girl: You have the right to free speech, the right to an attorney, and the right to remain silent.
Me: ...No, you're thinking of Miranda.
So, there's this bit of wank going on with a fanfic writer. This is not out of the ordinary, of course. I was, however, astounded by this bit of stupidity she sent me:
... But masturbation is evil, over a thousand teenagers a
year die that way. Well mostly males but still...it's evil!
...Masturbation kills? There was no indication that she was talking about autoerotic asphyxiation.
EDIT: Apparently, as she later clarified elsewhere, she did mean autoerotic asphyxiation... but she seems to believe that everyone does that.
Yes. Did you know that at least over a thousand teenagers a year die that way? It's because they cut off the air supply to the brain just the second before they have an orgasym because it is medically true that if you can do that just at the moment you are about to have a sexual release the orgaysm is about 500 times better because it is incredibly intense.It's true, but it is mostly common in males. So that's why it is evil, also it's called "Autoerotic asphyxia." And no my parents aren't Super Christians, we're just regular Christians. My opinion on masturbation comes from my mind, not theirs. So I'm not like everybody else, I have an old soul.
This is hardly the least of her stupid. She claims to be a green-eyed pale gothy brunette who is a "dead ringer" for Pocahontas (and her descendant) and says all her classmates hate her because she's prettier and smarter (and can see the future, apparently).
Alright, I know that my love of opera is a little unusual, but I didn't think that other music majors could be this stupid. Before one of my music classes, I was talking to a new friend about opera. I'm for, she's not. I was listening to a recording of The Barber of Seville the night before, so I was using it as one of my references. She was blanking on what it was, so I hummed some of the most popular parts for her, at which point another (stupid) girl turned to listen...
Friend: Eh, it's alright.
Me: It sounds a lot better when you hear someone who actually knows the words singing it.
Friend: Who was the composer again?
Stupid Girl: Who ever that is, they lied!
Stupid Girl: That RoshorriblymangledItalianname didn't write that! He's a plagiarizer!
Friend: *amused* Then who did?
Stupid Girl: The people at Looney Tunes! Duh!
The best part? Our teacher walked in just in time to catch the crucial parts of the conversation. We got a nice little lecture on opera showing up in pop culture.
OMG!Update. This time it's personal...
The stupid girl from above tracked me down in the music building today, because apparently her blinding ignorance is my fault. At the time, I was simultaneously walking, rummaging through my bag, juggling my folder in the crook of my arm, and attempting to avoid sunstroke by twisting my mass of hair up. When she came up, I stopped and let her have her say. I should have kept walking...
Stupid Girl: *after long rant* and I hate you, you stupid bitch!
Me: *distracted by something sticky on the bottom of my bag and not really listening to her ravings* You know, when I get upset, I like Bizet...
Stupid Girl: I don't want pancakes! If I ate pancakes every time I was angry, I would end up as fat as you! *stormed off*
Now, in her defense, when I spoke I had a hair clip in my mouth, seeing as I had run out of limbs, and so I might have been a bit muffled. The only problem is that after singing for nearly sixteen years, I've acquired some decent enunciation skills, even when I do have something in my mouth, and the person I was walking with said that she understood me perfectly. At this point, I almost think she said it just to piss me off. But that might be giving her too much credit.
In my defense, I'm not fat. I'm not a half starved stick like she is, but I'm not fat.
A friend of a friend was in college a few years ago, and loved to party and get totally wasted. All the time. I think even when he was sober he was drunk, as he did and said a lot of very stupid things. This is one such thing I remembered today.
Apparently he threw a party in his dorm room one night, and was stumbling around drunk when he came upon one of those folding director's chairs with a strange liquid pooled in the seat. Being drunk and naturally curious, he wanted to figure out what it was.
What'd he do, you ask?
He *drank* it. Apparently this was the best way he knew of to discover what it was (and possibly its place of origin).
He says it turned out to be water. Lucky for him.
When I was five, my parents and I moved from England to Canada, because my dad was offered a new job over here. My dad, being a fairly sociable guy, soon made friends with most of the neighbours, and spent a lot of time with them talking about motorbikes and hockey and typical guy stuff that a 5 year old girl wouldn't really be interested in. (Well, assuming that the five year old girl was me. Which it was.)
Anyway, my dad told me this gem of a story about telling one of the neighbours that we came over here in a plane. Now, you'd think that most people know that there's a huge freaking ocean between North American and Europe, and that it can't exactly be traversed in conventional ways. And maybe this guy did know that; I'm not sure. Either way, he asked my dad why we all had to come by plane instead of driving over.
. . .
My dad, never able to resist poking fun at people, told him that the bridge was out.
This guy believed him.
people like this make me weep for the fate of the human race, they really do.