Why do people think their time is more valuable than mine, body shaming in reverse, and why does my SUV have baby tires???

Okay seriously. Come on people. Wait your GD turns. What is with this rampant self entitlement plaguing our society??? Honest to God people, get your shit together. Wait your damn turn.

Today I was working with a UPS associate, mailing some fan photos for the husband, sending tax documents (gross) to our team in Toronto, mailing some paperwork to our daughter, in Toronto, and a little gift to my dad, also in Toronto. So I had a lot going on, and there were many addresses involved and it was taking a fair amount of time. But, I was there first, when there was nobody else in the store, and that’s sort of the way it works, no? In my world it does. I mean I’ve often been the person who was two minutes too late, ended up behind somebody with a lot to handle, making it impossible for me to be able to “get in, get out” of a store, and that was my tough luck. It’s just the way the cookie crumbles some times. Nowadays people don’t want to wait. Not even two minutes. They want to be serviced the minute they walk in the door, and that my friends is so fucking rude that I CAN’T EVEN.

Today, my entire transaction at said UPS store took probably ten minutes longer because my sales associate was continually being interrupted by impatient P.O Box clients. Keep in mind there were two other staff members on the floor, also working with other customers, but did they interrupt those folks? Nope. No they did not, for some reason they only wanted to get help from my woman. And I’m not even sure why. But, I will tell you this, by the time the fifth person attempted to take her attention from my tasks at hand, I spoke up. I respectfully told her that she was not the first person who had done this, and by now my entire time in the store had been extended by ten minutes, and if she could kindly wait a couple of minutes to allow her to finish my transactions so that I too could carry on with my day, that would be fab.

Surprisingly, she got it, and she all of a sudden was happy to be helped by the other staff member, who by now was free and clear. Well wonders never cease, if she had just done that in the first place. Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.

Manicurist. Why is it so hard to find a good one? Where are all the good ones hiding? Is there one salon somewhere that is hoarding them all??? Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.

This same thing applies to colorists who can do a great blonde without pulling copper? Where are they? I mean I even went to a guy last year in Toronto, who is the self appointed, blonde God…believe me when I say, for other people he might have been, but for me? Nope. No deal. Still pulled copper. Is it the colorist, or is it me and my fucking crazy, wild hormones??? Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.

Why do I have a giant SUV, with delicate baby tires? Yan calls them “low profile/sport tires.” I call them pussies.

I mean why would they do that? It’s like a trick; “hey we’ll give you this super capable truck that can climb rock walls (well at least it does in their commercials, I’ve never attempted to do that)but don’t attempt to drive it over a steel plate. That’s a bit much for that tire. You’ll for sure get a flat if you do that, but hey let us know how the rock climbing goes!” Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.

Oh yeah, and the final thing today that truly made me go “hmmm” was a heavy woman at Soul Cycle this morning, who obnoxiously said while our class was emptying out before her’s; “oh look, here come all the skinny girls” with a judging tone, and a sour look on her face. This might surprise you, but it didn’t surprise me, I mean I found it to be super rude, and disrespectful, but what a lot of people might not know, is that there is a healthy amount of body shaming that works in reverse. It’s not just “skinny” people shaming “overweight” people, but for me it really makes me wonder; isn’t that what one would expect to find at a workout class?? Is that not why you’re there, to get fit, be healthy, and probably lose some weight??? Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.

Love, SB