It is often annoying to see little kids throwing a massive tantrum on the floor of the supermarket. It is actually entertaining though to watch every attempt to make them stop. It is then very interesting watching a parent or grandparent explain why this behaviour is wrong and what the alternative way of dealing with these feelings are.
These are the main reasons I find adult tantrums so absolutely hilarious. Parents follow this pattern with their children; of witnessing, dealing with and solving a tantrum. And yet it is so often I see parents unable to vent their feeling properly and fly into a tantrum. However, with an adult you cannot blame this on the fact that "it's food time" or "they're very tired". That is no excuse for an adult to spit the dummy and stomp their feeties.
The most famous example of this recently is the late passenger in Hong Kong airport who kicks and wails and rolls on the floor and screams. All examples of behaviour we usually see in children. I have a sneaking suspicion that when the aforementioned lady flew off the handle the little switch in her brain that reminds her that she is an adult and EVERYBODY is watching flicked over and she resorted back to her 2 year old self. I have no idea how this could possibly happen. Especially over something like missing a flight. I can understand if a family member dies or something and you become distraught. But this is like crying over spilt milk.
I have experienced an adult tantie recently at work. A woman demanded a refund which I declined and then she proceeded to slam her items on the counter and refuse to leave till I refunded them. I was fighting back laughter. What an immature thing to do! Adults of all people should be able to understand situations from both sides.I don't decline a refund for no particular reason. I personally would ask why, present my rebuttal, try and see their side and then if still declined a refund, I'd leave. If I truly believed I was entitled to a refund I would call the manager. I would not stamp or moan or make random insults about the sales assistant or company.
I find this the most fascinating thing I have discovered about adults since I started this blog. It amazes me how easily some people lose their temper when they spend the entire time lecturing everyone else about it...
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Sheild your eyes!
I can truly appreciate the advantages of sunglasses. They have many wonderful skills that do not end at saving your eyes from all those nasty UVA, UVB and UVWXY and Z rays out their doing there very best to kills us early. They can in fact hide tears, cure a hangover, disguise you from an ex and make you feel a little bit famous. BUT, essentially they are there to wear outdoors to protect your little, delicate eyes from the sun. Not indoors and not when you are speaking to me.
Recently I have had many women come into my shop and leave their sunglasses on whilst having a good half and hour chat or shop. Or in some cases half an hour of them demanding and me running around and up and down a ladder.
Now, my shop is on the uppermost level of the shopping complex. So it's not as if these women have just walked out of the sun and are going to remove their glasses.I am not housing super bright lights insight my shop nor do i have paparazzi flashing these women as soon as they walk through the door.
To be honest I have no idea why these women leave their glasses on. Absolutely no clue! All I know is that it's rude. I feel like I'm explaining the pros and cons of the product to a brick wall!
So ladies, please take them off. Or a least say something if you have to where them. We will probably look at you and seem like we are searching, we are, we're searching for your eyes! If you catch us doing this just say;
"Sorry about the glasses, bit of a sensitive eye"
"Sorry about the glasses, they're transition lenses and they just won't change!"
"Sorry about the glasses, it's very bright in here"
"Sorry about the glasses, I'm posh and hoity-toity and can't bear to make eye contact!"
Recently I have had many women come into my shop and leave their sunglasses on whilst having a good half and hour chat or shop. Or in some cases half an hour of them demanding and me running around and up and down a ladder.
Now, my shop is on the uppermost level of the shopping complex. So it's not as if these women have just walked out of the sun and are going to remove their glasses.I am not housing super bright lights insight my shop nor do i have paparazzi flashing these women as soon as they walk through the door.
To be honest I have no idea why these women leave their glasses on. Absolutely no clue! All I know is that it's rude. I feel like I'm explaining the pros and cons of the product to a brick wall!
So ladies, please take them off. Or a least say something if you have to where them. We will probably look at you and seem like we are searching, we are, we're searching for your eyes! If you catch us doing this just say;
"Sorry about the glasses, bit of a sensitive eye"
"Sorry about the glasses, they're transition lenses and they just won't change!"
"Sorry about the glasses, it's very bright in here"
"Sorry about the glasses, I'm posh and hoity-toity and can't bear to make eye contact!"
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Kids+white pants=silly adults
Every single time you turn on the television there is an advertisement reminding you just how grubby children are. As if we didn't already know. However, despite these constant reminders from the television plus that nagging voice of your mother in the back of your mind about how grubby you yourself are every time you go to put on anything white, parents still insist on dressing little children in white clothes.
I work in retail, and thus get to observe the human condition on a daily basis. It is here in the eastern suburbs shopping complex that you see the most white panted children. All chased after by their immaculately dressed mothers and nannies. You see, it is a certain type of parent, mothers in particular, who insist on dressing their kids in white.
It is entirely beyond me why your child should look like a small model. They don't want to be dressed like that- they don't care! I love seeing kids in fairy outfits or dinosaur costumes at the shops because it means they got to pick their own clothes. I can understand dressing them for something important like weddings etc. or dressing them in something practical so they don’t trip over themselves or get a chill. But for a trip to the shops...I really think parents need to reassess who they are dressing their children for. They are not a fashion accessory nor are people judging you based on the look of your child, especially not someone who has children themselves- they know exactly the World War you went through just to negotiate Bob the Builder undies this morning.
My qualm with white is not that I don't like the colour; it's lovely if you can keep food off it. Kids are dirty and some times cannot even keep their mushed pumpkin inside their mouth. And as they get older, sure, they can eat fairly neatly but insist on playing on the ground or with dirt. And even the simplest things such as wiping their organic, 100% preservative, colour and taste free food down the front of their pants because they are yet to learn the social importance of a napkin. This is where white pants are impractical.
Mothers; save you and your maid the extra Nappysan and dress the kids in a colour that hides the joys of being a child. Being a child is the only time of your life that you are aloud to sit on the shop floor playing with matchbox cars, run around inside the clothing racks and wipe that dirt from tadpole catching on your pants, so don't stifle that fun. Kids are growing up too fast; don't push it that little bit quicker.
I work in retail, and thus get to observe the human condition on a daily basis. It is here in the eastern suburbs shopping complex that you see the most white panted children. All chased after by their immaculately dressed mothers and nannies. You see, it is a certain type of parent, mothers in particular, who insist on dressing their kids in white.
It is entirely beyond me why your child should look like a small model. They don't want to be dressed like that- they don't care! I love seeing kids in fairy outfits or dinosaur costumes at the shops because it means they got to pick their own clothes. I can understand dressing them for something important like weddings etc. or dressing them in something practical so they don’t trip over themselves or get a chill. But for a trip to the shops...I really think parents need to reassess who they are dressing their children for. They are not a fashion accessory nor are people judging you based on the look of your child, especially not someone who has children themselves- they know exactly the World War you went through just to negotiate Bob the Builder undies this morning.
My qualm with white is not that I don't like the colour; it's lovely if you can keep food off it. Kids are dirty and some times cannot even keep their mushed pumpkin inside their mouth. And as they get older, sure, they can eat fairly neatly but insist on playing on the ground or with dirt. And even the simplest things such as wiping their organic, 100% preservative, colour and taste free food down the front of their pants because they are yet to learn the social importance of a napkin. This is where white pants are impractical.
Mothers; save you and your maid the extra Nappysan and dress the kids in a colour that hides the joys of being a child. Being a child is the only time of your life that you are aloud to sit on the shop floor playing with matchbox cars, run around inside the clothing racks and wipe that dirt from tadpole catching on your pants, so don't stifle that fun. Kids are growing up too fast; don't push it that little bit quicker.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
What if someone knows your address...nothing will happen.
Some adults have a very high opinion of themselves. According to them people want to steal their children, rob their house, spy on them and worship the very ground they walk on.
I came across this strange sense of self worship that adults have at my work. I work in retail. Yes, go me and my Gen Y/ borderline dole bludging career. Anyway, whenever we do a refund or give a credit note we need to get personal detail from the customer. Not their credit card details, not their sex history or their mother maiden name. Just a very simple, very non-federal police questions of name, address and phone number. Now these are the details you give to a friend, a mailing list or your Internet provider. HEAPS of people have this info! But, will you give it to poor innocent me just trying my ass off not to get fired.
Oh hell no.
Let me explain why we need this info. It is just to legally cover our rear-ends as retail assistants. It's to make sure that we are not giving each other refunds and credit notes just for the hell of it.
So what happened today was I asked a 'Eastern suburbs mother' for her details, ensuring to advise her this information was confidential and not going to be pasted onto any 3rd party.
You'd have thought I'd asked for her kidneys, both, and perhaps...i don't know...half her cerebral cortex...
"I'll give you my last name and signature" she said.
I kindly explained (whilst the Lauren in my head was growling, speaking through gritted teeth and yelling FUCK every 10 seconds) that this was for a legal purpose and that I needed her to be as detailed as possible.
Then we embarked on World War Three.
"Why are you entitled to this information! This is confidential and to be given at my own discretion!" Please note: this was not delivered in a cold and cruel tone but rather that the flying monkeys from 'The Wizard of Oz' were giving me a piece of their mind.
So I gave up.
What I really wanted to know was; why won't you give out this information? What do I want it for? I have no interest in you, especially since you have just yelled at me (cue bruised ego). I am not planning to use this information to hunt down your prissy children or turn up at your house on a Saturday night looking to crack a cold one.
I don't care about you. And yet you believe I do.
It make me think that everyone is so afraid of their precious privacy that no one is taking advantage of it. Think of it this way- if there are four people in the room, one in each corner being all private-like, who is robbing them blind??
No one. Makes me think I should start a new career, eh?
So everyone, just chill out. Think of it this way- We already know eveything about you, so there's nothing to hide.
Your neighbour knows your address.
Your mother knows your phone number.
Every shop attendant has seen your signature,
And every single person you invited to your wedding knows both your maiden name and your new one.
I came across this strange sense of self worship that adults have at my work. I work in retail. Yes, go me and my Gen Y/ borderline dole bludging career. Anyway, whenever we do a refund or give a credit note we need to get personal detail from the customer. Not their credit card details, not their sex history or their mother maiden name. Just a very simple, very non-federal police questions of name, address and phone number. Now these are the details you give to a friend, a mailing list or your Internet provider. HEAPS of people have this info! But, will you give it to poor innocent me just trying my ass off not to get fired.
Oh hell no.
Let me explain why we need this info. It is just to legally cover our rear-ends as retail assistants. It's to make sure that we are not giving each other refunds and credit notes just for the hell of it.
So what happened today was I asked a 'Eastern suburbs mother' for her details, ensuring to advise her this information was confidential and not going to be pasted onto any 3rd party.
You'd have thought I'd asked for her kidneys, both, and perhaps...i don't know...half her cerebral cortex...
"I'll give you my last name and signature" she said.
I kindly explained (whilst the Lauren in my head was growling, speaking through gritted teeth and yelling FUCK every 10 seconds) that this was for a legal purpose and that I needed her to be as detailed as possible.
Then we embarked on World War Three.
"Why are you entitled to this information! This is confidential and to be given at my own discretion!" Please note: this was not delivered in a cold and cruel tone but rather that the flying monkeys from 'The Wizard of Oz' were giving me a piece of their mind.
So I gave up.
What I really wanted to know was; why won't you give out this information? What do I want it for? I have no interest in you, especially since you have just yelled at me (cue bruised ego). I am not planning to use this information to hunt down your prissy children or turn up at your house on a Saturday night looking to crack a cold one.
I don't care about you. And yet you believe I do.
It make me think that everyone is so afraid of their precious privacy that no one is taking advantage of it. Think of it this way- if there are four people in the room, one in each corner being all private-like, who is robbing them blind??
No one. Makes me think I should start a new career, eh?
So everyone, just chill out. Think of it this way- We already know eveything about you, so there's nothing to hide.
Your neighbour knows your address.
Your mother knows your phone number.
Every shop attendant has seen your signature,
And every single person you invited to your wedding knows both your maiden name and your new one.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Adult Friends
Why are adult friends so hard to find?
I left school and moved to the big smoke to study acting assuming that upon arriving here I would meet cultured people left, right and centre and we would have a great group of 'pals' who would all partying and laugh and hang out together.
This fantasy has not actualised itself. Thus I am at home on a Saturday night, writing a blog, with "Around the World in 80 Days" on in the background (this is possibly the worst film IN THE WORLD).
Here is my problem. I am not an anti-social person. In fact I would refer to myself as an over social person. I adore people to the point of striking up involved conversations with everyone from my waxer to the check out girl. So I in turn believed I would have no troubles making a great group of friends. Just like the ones I left at home.
Please note: I am not looking to replace said wondrous friends at home just find someone to occupy my time here without spending my weekend longingly watching peoples facebook pages and wishing I was back at home attending otherwise boring events.
I have met people here. I just don't 'hang out' with anyone. sob.
At acting school I have met some great people. However no real friendship has emerged. See, we only see each other once a week. This appears to not really be enough to make buds out of people. Also people are always busy, god damn it! When I'm working they are not. When I'm free they are at work. Or so they tell me.
I also have a huge problem with forcing friendships. I don't want to have to chase people down and stalk them to hang around with them. Maybe I should be doing that. I just don't really know how to ask to be friends with someone without taking myself back to my primary school days of requesting friendship so simply with other equally illiterate members of society.
Also, they all have boyfriends. People with boyfriends are useless to me! Utterly useless. In fact, attached people should all be exiled so the rest of us can get on with it without the constant reminders of our singledom.
So after a bunch of group 'dates' with acting people I am still not on terms of going out with some or even one of them outside of school!
Then there is work, oh work, again utterly useless. As a casual employee all my other casual colleagues are uni students. Complete with their own group of uni friends. This would be fine, if someone wanted to invite me to hang out with them...
But here we arise at the problem with adults. They don't do that! They just go about their little secular lives. Here is my question for readers.
How do you break into a friend circle without being desperate?
I am actually at the point of joining a club. However, upon the perusal of the local paper I can only find knitting, mahjong and an under 18's amateur theatre company as my places for friends. Two too old, the other too young.
Now I should just have a Bridget Jones moment- wear penguin pajamas, badly drum along to "All by myself" and start chain smoking...
..and eventually die alone at 300 pounds with a chocolate bar stuck to my face.
I left school and moved to the big smoke to study acting assuming that upon arriving here I would meet cultured people left, right and centre and we would have a great group of 'pals' who would all partying and laugh and hang out together.
This fantasy has not actualised itself. Thus I am at home on a Saturday night, writing a blog, with "Around the World in 80 Days" on in the background (this is possibly the worst film IN THE WORLD).
Here is my problem. I am not an anti-social person. In fact I would refer to myself as an over social person. I adore people to the point of striking up involved conversations with everyone from my waxer to the check out girl. So I in turn believed I would have no troubles making a great group of friends. Just like the ones I left at home.
Please note: I am not looking to replace said wondrous friends at home just find someone to occupy my time here without spending my weekend longingly watching peoples facebook pages and wishing I was back at home attending otherwise boring events.
I have met people here. I just don't 'hang out' with anyone. sob.
At acting school I have met some great people. However no real friendship has emerged. See, we only see each other once a week. This appears to not really be enough to make buds out of people. Also people are always busy, god damn it! When I'm working they are not. When I'm free they are at work. Or so they tell me.
I also have a huge problem with forcing friendships. I don't want to have to chase people down and stalk them to hang around with them. Maybe I should be doing that. I just don't really know how to ask to be friends with someone without taking myself back to my primary school days of requesting friendship so simply with other equally illiterate members of society.
Also, they all have boyfriends. People with boyfriends are useless to me! Utterly useless. In fact, attached people should all be exiled so the rest of us can get on with it without the constant reminders of our singledom.
So after a bunch of group 'dates' with acting people I am still not on terms of going out with some or even one of them outside of school!
Then there is work, oh work, again utterly useless. As a casual employee all my other casual colleagues are uni students. Complete with their own group of uni friends. This would be fine, if someone wanted to invite me to hang out with them...
But here we arise at the problem with adults. They don't do that! They just go about their little secular lives. Here is my question for readers.
How do you break into a friend circle without being desperate?
I am actually at the point of joining a club. However, upon the perusal of the local paper I can only find knitting, mahjong and an under 18's amateur theatre company as my places for friends. Two too old, the other too young.
Now I should just have a Bridget Jones moment- wear penguin pajamas, badly drum along to "All by myself" and start chain smoking...
..and eventually die alone at 300 pounds with a chocolate bar stuck to my face.
I'm lonely...thus i should start a blog
I'm 18. In the "big city". Lonely.
So what should I do?
The usual responses would be:
a) find friends
b) go out with said friends
c) become a hermit and wait to be eaten by alsatians
However, I have decided to do none of these sensible things. Instead I have decided to create a webpage based entirely on my whingeing. Good plan!
So, I guarantee, mythical reader, that you are wondering why I am writing about being a grown up when I am the grand old age of 18. Well, mainly because I know nothing about being a grown up and every single day I am baffled by the so little I know. So I plan to communicate these constant "uhuh" moments with hopefully a wee bit of humour and an awful lot of venting.
So what should I do?
The usual responses would be:
a) find friends
b) go out with said friends
c) become a hermit and wait to be eaten by alsatians
However, I have decided to do none of these sensible things. Instead I have decided to create a webpage based entirely on my whingeing. Good plan!
So, I guarantee, mythical reader, that you are wondering why I am writing about being a grown up when I am the grand old age of 18. Well, mainly because I know nothing about being a grown up and every single day I am baffled by the so little I know. So I plan to communicate these constant "uhuh" moments with hopefully a wee bit of humour and an awful lot of venting.
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