Archive for category Manners

Flippin’ the bird

I flipped a senior citizen the bird on my way home today. not a casual, lazy, flick of the wrist sort of obscenity, no no… It was a full on, arm strait out, display of the middle finger that would make any self-respecting British football hooligan proud. What might provoke such behavior one might wonder? Why would a someone who is normally so courteous to the older folk commit such a heinous act against one of our blue-haired citizens? Am I ashamed? Will I feel the need to perform some sort of penitence to balance the violation of my Karma? Nope. The act was completely justified!

I was peddling along, listening to a podcast on the French Revolution, the sun was shining, and traffic was light – a recipe for a fine commute. As I pulled into the home stretch, about a mile and a half from La Maison Du Talley, a red car comes soaring down the hill by Luna Park Cafe and doesn’t look like it is going to heed the stop sign. I looked at the driver as I pulled the break levers hard and she was talking on her cell phone; holding it to her left ear with her right hand. Her left hand was on the top of the wheel completely blocking her ability to turn her head to look in my direction.  She made NO attempt to even glance to her left to see if there was a car or a cyclist or a pedestrian or even a lady with a baby carriage coming from that direction. I skidded to a stop as she rolled a full 10 feet past the stop sign, almost clipping me with her bumper.  I looked at her as disapprovingly as I could, pointed to the stop sign and yelled (only so she could hear me in her cocoon of Detroit steel and over her cell phone conversation)  for her to hang up the phone and drive. I then peddled on, shaking my head in annoyance.

About 30 yards up the road she caught up with me, rolled her window down and screamed at me to watch where I was going and that I was an “asshole.” Other obscenities came spilling out as she sped up, I was shocked and reacted as any cyclist worth his shifters would – finger up and complimented with a vocalization of the same.

I know I have said this a couple of times recently, but I have been hit 5 TIMES while riding and was recently rubbed by a rear-view mirror. Three of those incidences involved someone talking on a cell phone while driving. Look, we all make mistakes from time to time, but for the love of God, put the phone down, buy a headset, and watch for cyclists. This is Seattle, we’re everywhere… I stand by my use of THE Finger this time. In fact, I kinda want to wait at the corner the same time tomorrow so that I can do it again.  I know, I know that would solve nothing and only make her REALLY dislike cyclists. I am sure her side of the story is just as compelling as mine: “I was driving home and some lunatic, drug crazed man on a bike went nuts and screamed at me. I didn’t DO anything, I was just driving and he came out of nowhere and started screaming at me…”

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You wish you had my neighbors!

Some mornings I get up and it feels like I live in the nicest mobile home in a south Alabama trailer park. It is the neighbors – both sides.

On the North side of Casa da Talley, resides a couple of 20-something constructions workers who also happen to be in a metal band. They are nice enough guys during the day and when sober, but add beer and darkness and the guitars are plugged in, the drum sticks uncased, and the amp volume is turned to 11. Sometimes the music is OK, but there practice space is 10 feet from our bedroom window and guitar licks at 2am when we have work the next day is super-uncool. Add to the music their general inability to take care of their yard, the heaps of trash in the front and back, the non-working trucks and motorcycles parked in the weeds and one has a recipe for hillbilly soup. On of the most enduring things they have done since we have been there was to carve their Halloween pumpkin with the words “Balls Deep” and put it out on their front porch. While I seriously doubt that they had even one trick-or-treater I am willing to be that their artistic flair led to a bunch of uneasy questions from the little ones on the street.

I need to point out that I live on a block of 500K+ homes. These guys live in one of the very few rentals on the whole street and have made life generally miserable for the entire neighborhood for the last 2.5 years. The owner of the property is a septuagenarian lawyer who could care less about the those of us who have to live near his tenets.

To the south I have on old chain-smoking semi-recluse whose yard, if left solely in his care, can have grass growing 3 feet high. There are vines growing into his roof and attic, the back yard is completely covered in weed-trees and there are heaps of trash in the back and alley. Though usually benign, he has recently moved a homeless couple into a tent/tarp in the backyard and says it is in exchange for them doing his yard work. Both of my new “neighbors” seem to have serious alcohol problems, but the woman also has a chemical dependency and possible severe mental health issues – her companion has apologized for her outbursts at least once. When a half naked homeless man apologizes for your behavior while he is smoking a hand-roll and taking swigs from an Olde English 800 tallboy, you might need to look into some in-patient care…

While having a BBQ with friends and family 2 weekends ago, there was cussing and screaming from the tent compound about how stupid her partner was and shortly there after screams of drunken ecstasy and and very vivid and specific directions as to what she wanted done as the couple engaged in freaky dirty hobo sex 2 feet from my fence. REALLY!? My buddy, David – The Sleepy Weasel, was there and we went over to ask the homeowner to make them stop. He seemed genuinely surprised that he his very own drunken, crazy, high, street people were doing the dirty. He apologized and marched into the back to turn the hose on them or something. The stopped and we spent the afternoon around the grill loudly discussing the ballistic wound capability of various pistol rounds and hand loads – David just got back from his third tour in Iraq and his wife grew up in her father’s sniper rifle producing machine shop: he is currently manufacturing optic mounts for the Navy Seals .50cal rifles. After she uttered the phrase “6 inch permanent wound cavity” there was a rustling under the tarp and all was quiet for the rest of the afternoon :-)

In all fairness, part of the reason that we got such a smoking deal on our home was the neighbors and the condition that their houses were in. I spoke to a Realtor 3-4 months ago who had shown our house a few times while it was on the market and lamented that is not for trash and the truck parked in the yard next door (north house – truck was gone when we put our offer in) she could have sold the place in a month and got the full asking price.

Well, as of today (July 9, 2010) my hellbilly neighbors are quiet and respectful, and have cleaned up some. They had a huge party a couple of weeks ago and pissed off the wrong neighbor who called a couple of cops he knew. The cops told them to turn it down and they did – for exactly 15 minutes. the cops came back found the party in full gallop. They used some obscure statute about willfully disobeying the Seattle noise ordnance, and the police seized all the guitars in the house. They busted a few people for underage drinking and both of the guys living there got hauled off to jail for a day or so. I guess after 2.5 years one guy had taken all he could stand.

Concerning the new “tenants” to the south – well, that one is stickier: There is no law in Seattle that makes it illegal to live in a tent in someone else’s backyard. The fact that there were invited by the property owner also adds a wrinkle and there is very little that can be legally done about the situation. One of the guys across the ally came out the other morning and saw the dude peeing in the back with just a shirt on – no pants. That neighbor was enraged – he has a couple of kids. He called the cops, the health department, Planning and development, the sheriff, and the city attorney. I would really HATE to piss this guy off – he seems to be tenacious, bright, and angry. There is talk about him procuring bees. For my part, I have been cranking up the circle saw bright and early every morning and shooting the pellet gun with my son, talking loudly about marksmanship. As my boy has a competition air rifle that shoots a .177cal pellet out at 1200 feet per second, it is not a quiet activity. So far it has endeared me to the Machiavellian homeowner and made our new neighbors grumble a little bit.

I will give it a couple of weeks and watch from the bench to see how this all plays out. Hopefully,  no new tents appear and the one there now gets packed up and moved.

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World’s Greatest Employee!

Someday, when I am “Tha Man” I want a shop full of employees EXACTLY like this woman:

work harder

She poured me some great coffee the other day, was smart, happy, flirted the right amount, pronounced words correctly when discussing 1950 Parisian fashion/lingerie (odd topic I know, another customer was some sort of antique clothes dealer), dealt with a shithead customer – not once losing her smile.  The tattoo should have told me all I needed to know.  If this woman applies for work in your office/shop/business/pub/store/whatever, hire her and give her more than she asks for.

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Commuting with Bear Spray…

Man, Some days my bike commute (1200+ miles so far this year) is the SHIT!… Warm sunshine, crisp air, blue sky, mountains in the background, little traffic, all the lights are green, etc… Then there are days like today that I get home ragged, twitching, in a foul mood, and in need of quite time. I got off a little late so the sun was setting as I started the 40-minute ride home. Traffic was tight, exhaust fumes hung thick in the air, some asshole swerved at me to be funny – I hope, two douche-bags laid into their horns as they sped past me while I was climbing a hill, a lady in a Honda almost hit me in the cross walk, and finally this dick screamed at me with his head hanging out the passenger window of a truck as I was coming to yet another red-light. I got up out of the saddle and mashed the peddles for all I was worth, getting mentally ready for the beat-down I was going to give the ass-hat. Just as I got within reach of the bumper, the guy driving ran the light. I hate assholes!

I was hit 5 times in 3 years of living in California and I learned that you have to watch drivers like a hawk. After a while you become intuitive of their no-signal right turns and you can feel when that lady on her cell phone is going to look right through you and pull out, so you hit the brakes and avoid a crash that she was never aware of. The Burbs and industrial district south of Seattle is a whole other hot mess indeed. Unlike in the city proper, there aren’t too many of us bike commuters, lots of busy mid-level managers talking into the mobile phones, and it is a battle every time I get on my bike. There is a guy in a dark blue Chevy Malibu van that has the same schedule as me who will squeeze his van against the curb if he sees me coming so that I can’t pass him at red lights – no cutting in line! I get honked at daily, had a Burger King bag tossed at me back in June, and once had a semi-homeless (living in his car) dude (there are a bunch in S. King County, WA) try to chase me down and steal my bike – really!

Now, if I had caught the guy at the light I would have hit him at least three times before he got his door open. Then it would have been two good-sized fellers on a skinny guy in spandex and funny shoes. I would have given pretty good, but I would have bleed some and I don’t know if that would have taught them the proper lesson. Ruminating on that and the possibility of assault by one of our local street people, I have decided to not fuck around with my safety. I have a wife and kids and it is my job to come home safe every night (and contribute heavily to two college funds), so I sat down at my bride’s sewing machine and made (with her patient help) a snazzy black nylon pouch to hold my bike-commute insurance policy: bear spray. Yep, a big ol’ canister of Ursine-Off. If it can stop a charging grizzly, then some asshole that takes a swipe at me because I am on a bike and look like an easy target is going to have a very spice-filled evening. I see it this way: If you’re a prick and you try to touch me or run me over, you get a nice even coating of Oleoresin Capsicum, I call the cops, you learn a valuable lesson, I go home safely, have a yummy dinner, you may get to post bail, I have a beer, you spend the rest of your evening itchy and red. Everyone wins!

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The Un-Friendly Skies…

I have been in the aviation industry for a while now and I have done more than my fair share of flying. In the time that I have spent flying for a living I have had my share of delays, missed flights, crappy third-world airports, rescheduled and cancelled flights, mechanical problems, chatty drunks, turbulence, irate passengers, screaming babies, “customers of size,” and one very scary emergency landing. I am a bit of an old hand in dealing with air travel and very little phases me. Recently, I had an experience that left me shaking my head in wonder at the heartlessness and compliancy of a major US airline: Continental

I was flying into Arkansas for a summer visit with the kids. I arrived without issue in Newark and after an eight hour layover; I expected to make a connecting flight to Little Rock that night at 8:00. About 7:30 I and the other assembled passengers were told by a gate agent that our flight was postponed due to inclement weather until 9:00. Around 8:40pm the gate agent left and we did not see another one for the rest of the evening. Our flight was postponed an additional 3 times with the departures screen and at 12:30am a cancellation notice was broadcast over the intercom system. We were instructed to go to a Continental Airlines Customer Service Desk for flight rescheduling or to call the 800 reservations number. I stood in line from 12:30 to 3:30am. I phoned the Continental Reservations office while waiting in line and it took over an hour to get through – I am sure because of the volume of calls from my fellow passengers stranded in line with me. I was told that I had been automatically rescheduled to the 8:00pm Sunday flight. I was also told that there were no available open Continental flights out of Newark for Saturday. When I asked to be moved to another airline, I was told that it could not be done over the phone and would have to be taken care of at the service desk. So… I stayed in the line, which at 3:00am stretched down an entire wing of the terminal and was 400+ people strong.

At 3:30am the staff at the service area shut down their computers and left the desk with roughly 170 people still in our line – the bulk of the other customers waiting had been sent to another gate in another hall. A cynic would say it was because the airline wanted to split the herd so that we wouldn’t stampede when the shutdown came. People in the front of the line were begging for assistance we were told very loudly by one representative that she had been dealing with “us” for over eight hours, was tired, and was going home. Some of the passengers in that line including myself had already been in-transit for over 22 hours and knew all about being tired… When the Continental employees left, the lights in the area were shut off and we were all left to fend for ourselves with all the food establishments closed. There was no attempt to make any kind of arrangements for passengers, even those of us travelling internationally: no alternate accommodations, no blankets, no pillows, no snacks, and seemingly no thought given to those of us left in line. In addition, we were told that if we left the airport that we might not be able to enter again as our tickets were for cancelled flights and that it would be best if we stayed put until new tickets could be sorted out the next morning. The lights were then turned off and all Continental personnel left the area. There were a couple people who took some really damning pictures of the state of things that night: passengers huddled together still in line at 5:00 am, A couple asleep on the floor beside the wife’s wheelchair, a mother sobbing (who was a Continental flight attendant on maternity leave…) because she had run out of diapers and baby food for her infant.

The Continental Service Desk did not open at 4:30 like we were told it would as the service representatives made their hasty exit. We had to wait until almost 6:00am before staff reappeared. I was rescheduled for a 7:00am flight to Houston and then an additional connection flight to Little Rock. When I spoke to the reservation representative to schedule the flight out of Newark, I was told that my return flight had been upgraded because of my SkyTeam Elite status (all those miles flown have to count for something) and because of the continued delays. I appreciated this gesture. When I arrived at the gate we were told that no flight crew was available for the 7:00 flight and it was rescheduled four times before we finally got a flight crew just before mid day. Although numerous passengers requested assistance we were not provided with blankets or water or any flight information until 10ish when an airport representative arrived and assured us that we would leave Newark before noon. He also arranged for soft drinks and peanuts for us after a near mutiny by the gate agents and a bunch of screaming by passengers demanded some help.

My connecting flight from Houston to Little Rock was also rescheduled due to a mechanical problem with the First-Class entertainment system. I arrived in Little Rock almost twenty-four hours after my originally scheduled arrival and after nearly forty total hours of travel time. Once in Little Rock, I learned that my luggage was still in Newark and I did not receive it until later. Great…

A couple of weeks later, after a great visit with my son, I started my journey home to Germany. After arriving at the Little Rock Airport I found that my flight had been cancelled and I again was rerouted through Houston. Continental Airlines was at that point not on the top of my list of my favorite US carriers… The gate agent in Little Rock had no record of any promised upgrade. I was told to discuss it with Customer Service in Houston or Newark. My flight from Houston to Newark was completely full and I was told that I needed to discuss any promise of upgrade with the Newark staff. After arriving in Newark I went back to the Customer Service area and was told that I would have had to have been given a certificate at the time of the incident that there was nothing that they could do. I was told to call the Continental WECARE number to make any sort of complaint. It was if I had at that moment ceased to matter, the woman just sort of shoved the card with the WECARE info on it at me and turned to finish a conversation about her house with a co-worker. Continental has this slogan that the print on all there posters and ads: Work Hard. Fly Right. Really?! Neither was my experience with Continental Airlines or their staff in Newark!

I called while sitting in the Newark airport waiting for my next flight to notify Continental Customer Service of the incident and was told that upgrades on flights to Europe are NEVER given and are not even allowed in this type of situation. I was shocked by this and felt that the customer service agent that rescheduled my flight had purposely lied to me so that I would be happy just long enough to exit the airport where I was no longer a Continental concern. The WECARE telephone agent offered to send me an international care package for my inconvenience, but after checking she could only offer to mail me a US domestic one to my home in Germany. Great, two free drinks and a pair of headphones for domestic flights in a country that I don’t reside in and on an airline that I have grown to detest. By the way, my bags got lost on the trip home too. At least Continental is consistent…

This experience was so crappy solely because of the almost complete lack of customer service that I experienced at multiple levels. Delays are understandable, but a lack of empathy for passengers stuck in transit is shameful. I wrote Continental a letter, not looking for a handout or for a perk, but to draw their attention to a breakdown in their organization in Newark. I had hoped that it would be addressed and that other passengers that have the misfortune of delayed or cancelled flights in Newark in the future find the process to get them to there destination much less painful and frustrating than the process that I experienced. After nearly a month, I received a semi-well crafted form letter, complete with an auto-generated signature that calmly spelled out how everything that we experienced in Newark was “completely out of Continental’s control.” I almost choked as I read the customer service manager’s response. In addition to her letter following the basic tenets of an unsatisfied customer response letter: Empathize with the customer, restate their position/experience back to them as a sign that you have taken interest, apologize for their upset, assure them that ‘management’ would be notified, and ask them for their continued support. She had the balls to state that, “Continental employees worked tirelessly around the clock… in an extraordinary effort to accommodate our customers as quickly and safely as possible…” Really?! I doubt that any of the 400 or so people left abandoned at the Continental Customer Care desk overnight to sleep on the cold, stained concrete floor would agree.

As I said, I wrote my first letter in the hope that it would cast a light on a single failure at a single point in time for hundreds of passengers who were in Continental’s care. I did not ask to be reimbursed for anything or for any sort of freebie, as that was not my intent in writing them. It was my hope that this failure would be acknowledged and steps would be taken so that it would not happen to other travellers in the same situation with that airline in the future. The response I got just tells me that it was not an isolated incident and that there is a flaw in the Continental customer service system. I was not pleased.

I have a problem letting things go… It is one of those things about my personality that could either be considered endearing or a flaw… New Travel Rule: Stay the Hell away from Newark and only board a Continental flight in a case of Rapture, but pack a snack, because you will be routed through Houston and will be the last to arrive at the Pearly Gates.

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Cell Phone Spatial Awareness

I have noticed more and more that people get really wrapped up in their own little techie universe (I do it at times), and sometimes we forget that there are other people out there and all about the manners that Mom and Dad taught us.. We have all stood in line at the grocery store behind someone on the phone with their girlfriend or buddy: They are loud, ignore everyone around them, often don’t acknowledge the checker’s presence, and discuss things publicly that should be reserved for their home or Dan Savage’s sex advice column.

Normally, I just chalk it up to poor home training, but I draw the line at the movies. How hard is it to remember to hit the power button?! Every time I have been to the movie in the last three years (I go a lot) some unthinking prick’s phone starts going off and they fumble like a monkey with a math problem trying to shut it off. Recently, a girl in Hamburg got a call, answered it, and talked for a few seconds thirty minutes into the show. If that wasn’t bad enough her phone rang again not five minutes later and she answered it AGAIN?! Even my pacifist wife shot her an icy look, full of daggers, and was ready to fit her for a pair of Las Vegas-special concrete shoes. As everyone around her glared and she finally got the message and grudgingly switched the thing off. Is it rocket science to turn off the FVCKING phone before the movie starts?! If I can learn to put down my beloved CrackBerry and disconnect from my Borg-like BB hive for the greater good, then it shouldn’t be that hard for the rest of the world to have a touch of common courtesy.

I know I am ranting here (this is my corner of the web and I am allowed to do that when I pay for the bandwidth) and I get that part of this is a kind of unconscious rudeness, as most people don’t realize what they’re doing or that there are others around them as they discuss So-and-so’s erectile dysfunction while standing in line at Blockbuster (true story – I heard the conversation in Newport Beach) or on the commuter train. Essentially, those people subject us, against our will, to their conversation and if you dare to ask someone to keep it down: you get the stink-eye and told to mind you own business, as they flip you the bird and tell the person on the other end of the conversation how rude you just were to them. Apparently, I missed the memo that said as of a specific date loud, obnoxious cell phone use in public is OK. So that I don’t just go on and on about this: please think when you are on the cell. Be polite, put the phone down if you have to interact with sales people or staff, don’t pollute the common space with personal details, and PLEASE turn your cell/handy/Razor/BlackBerry/Treo/etc… off before the movie starts.

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