People

Now. I'm not one to hate people in general, or think that people are generally incompetent, or to think that people are undeserving of chances. I ususally give people the benefit of the doubt.

Nor am I an aggressive consumer. I try to be nice, patient, understanding. Nobody likes working. Nobody loves being at their job.

Last night, however, I lost my shit for the first time as a consumer.

The scenario was as follows:

Me. Trying to pick up some photos I'd ordered online through Kodak Gallery, which I'd had shipped to the CVS around the corner from work. I've done this many times. You select the photos you want developed online, they send you an email telling you when they've arrived at CVS. Easy.

I received the email on Wednesday, but waited until Thursday to pick the photos up just to make sure that they'd actually be there.

I got to CVS and walked upstairs to the photo desk. There was not an employee. I looked around but saw noone. I waited patiently for a few minutes and still nobody appeared. I walked downstairs and asked the CVS employee who uselessly stands near the door "Do you know if anyone's working at the photo desk?"

He asked someone behind a cash register. They shook their head. "No," he said.

"Oh."

"Did you need something?"

"Yes."

"What do you need?"

"Well, I just wanted to pick up my film that I had developed."

"Huh."

"Do you think you could get them for me?"

I was already frustrated at this point, because I should have just snuck behind the counter and taken them myself. They were prepaid, so I'd have had no guilt. I was also annoyed that he didn't immediately say "I'll get them for you!" because finding photos doesn't really require a skill. The only thing you need to know is the alphabet.

And so it began.

You know the story. There are a bunch of baskets. Each represents a letter or two. There were about 20 envelopes in the "L" basket.

He looked at three of them and was absolutely dumbfounded.

He kept looking at me and then back to the three envelopes.

"How do you spell your name again?"

"L-A-R..." I kept repeating.

He kept looking at the same three envelopes.

"I don't think they're here..."

"No, they're here. I got the email stating that they are here."

He looked, then, at two more envelopes.

"It would be a rather large envelope. 100 or so photos."

"I don't think they're here. How do you spell your last name again?"

"L-A-R..." I said instead of screaming "HOW ABOUT YOU LOOK AT ALL OF THE FREAKING ENVELOPES INSTEAD OF THE FIRST THREE YOU IDIOT!?"

"They're not here."

"Yes, they are. Look. They would be in a yellow envelope. I ordered them online so they won't be in those blue envelopes you're looking at."

He grabbed a yellow envelope from "R" and said "Like this?"

"Yes, like that," I said, as he returned it and then looked at the blue and red envelopes in the L basket. "No, just look at the yellow ones."

"It's not here."

"Yes, it is. I've done this a million times. They're here."

He didn't look at the yellow envelopes.

"Do you want to come back tomorrow and see if they're here?"

"No, I need them TONIGHT" I said, lying. What I should have said was "Are you saying that when I come back tomorrow there will be someone who will actually look at the envelopes and give me my photos?"

"Well, they're not here."

I said "Listen, if they're not here tonight, they're not going to be here tomorrow."

"They're not here."

"Do you think maybe you could look at all of the envelopes, please?"

He looked at four or five of them.

"They're not here."

"Yes, they are."

"No," and then ask the person behind me if they need help.

This is when I got insane. "Listen, how about I just go back there and look through the envelopes? I'm sure they're there."

"They're not."

I said "Listen, how about you do me a favor and look at that giant yellow envelope on the side of the L basket and see what it says." There was a huge yellow envelope separated out from the other envelopes, on its own, on its side on the side of the basket with a smaller envelope attached to it.

He grabbed it and said "No, this isn't you."

I said "Can I just look at it?"

And it was, of course, mine. With a big freaking L-A-R on it. I said "You know what? These ARE MINE! See? This is my name." I threw the other envelope at him and ran out of there.

***

Incompetent. This job is not hard. This job requires zero skills. Zero! Literacy at most. Maybe I am being a snob, but I feel like CVS employees should be able to read.

***

I almost lost it.

***

This morning I was sort of out of it after having been up later than I should have been. I needed to get money for the weekend, so walked into the Bank of America ATM on 34th Street in a daze. I approached the "All Transactions" machine and a guy groaned. I hadn't seen him. He was finishing his deposit slip. I said "Oh! I'm sorry!" as I backed away from the ATM. He said "I just have to do this really quickly..." and I was like "No, really, totally my fault. Go nuts. I'm sorry..."

As he made his deposit, the other ATM opened up and I withdrew my cash. On the street after I'd finished, he came up to me and said "You have yourself a nice day, ok?"

Which, of course, guaranteed that I had a nice day, because how nice of him! I'd had such a bad night, and I was happy to have someone be kind to me.

***

I was in a daze on Wednesday after having been sick on Tuesday. I really shouldn't have been at work. I wasn't at my most functional.

I didn't have much time for lunch as I was trying to finish Tuesday's and Wednesday's work in one day while delirious. I decided to grab a quick slice of pizza at the pizza place downstairs.

After ordering my pizza, I went grab a coke from the cooler, which was three steps away from the cashier to my right, behind me. Three steps!

I turned around, slowly (since I was delirious), when this giant woman, who'd been at the cooler, turned around in the opposite direction and slammed right into me. She nearly knocked me over.

I lost my footing because I was in a daze.

In slooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwww motion I almost fell onto two men seated next to the scene. It was one of those cartoon moments - where a building is about to topple but doesn't quite - and I was looking at them hoping that I wouldn't end up in one of their laps with my pizza on the other's lap.

When I didn't fall over, the woman said "Girl, I'm so sorry!"

"No, no, my fault, I'm really out of it right now."

"No, no, I weigh a hundred pounds more than you."

"No, really, its ok."

"Girl, you need to put some MEAT. ON. YOU." She laughed. So did I.

Heh.

I smiled and sat with some strangers since there wasn't really anywhere to sit, and everyone was all "Are you ok?" "Are you alright?" "That was crazy!" and it made me really happy, because everyone was nice.

***

So yeah. Incompetent people. Nice people.

I've been here a year and my assessment of the people in NYC is as follows:

Strangers are nice. People are much more talkative with strangers on the street. People are approachable. You can walk into any bar or restaurant or movie by yourself and find someone to talk to.

Incompetence level, however, is high. Since moving here, I've had to deal with the bitchiest, most incompetent, most impatient people in the world.

I don't know what any of this means.

I do know, however, that I am still a bit delirious and not fully recovered from the flu-ish thing.

***

I am off to The Parents' this weekend to go through old toys and notebooks and goodies so that they will throw away and save what is appropriate. They may actually be moving after 10 years of threating to do so! Very exciting. I am hoping to make a killing on EBay with all of the nostalgia I dig up. Wish me luck! I'm sure I will have more photos of He-Man action figures than you can stand next week.

Anniversary

Today is my one year anniversary of moving to NYC.

I still feel like I just got here. I don't feel like I've accomplished much in this amount of time, I don't feel like I've made any friends, I don't feel at all settled. People say it takes two years. I'll let you know in 2006.

More later when I am not about to go to a meeting...

Show Me That Smile Again....

I got the Growing Pains theme song in everyone's head this morning.

They were much annoyed.

I bet you are too.

Heh.

Did you even know that you remembered it?

Sick Day!

It's not as fun to be at home sick when you can't watch The Price Is Right.

***

I stayed home sick from work yesterday. Some sort of flu thing. Not entirely debilitating, but enough to render me completely ineffective at work.

***

I was semi-productive. I organized my clothes and found some more things to sell at Beacon's Closet - it was an agonizing process of trying on former favorite shirts and dresses that no longer fit, and just admitting to myself that they will never again fit. I think, though, that since these things were favorites and therefore are awesome, I will make some money from selling them. On Monday night I forced D to engage in a farewell vigil to the clothes during which we said things like "Damn that was cute back when I was thinner!" and "If only this still fit!" and "Farewell, fabulous purple suede skirt from 1996, may you find a better home on a smaller ass."

***

I organized paperwork. I went to The Container Store this past weekend and instead of buying little drawers and containers for things like makeup and toiletries, I bought cool bright red expanding folders for the years of paperwork I save for no reason. Old health insurance forms from four jobs ago, offer letters, bank statements from college. My next sick-day project will be to actually go through the paperwork and get rid of it instead of merely transferring it to a more aesthetically pleasing and functional containter.

***

I ate, which was apparently not the best idea.

***

I watched an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm from season 4 and laughed out loud when Larry David made mention of Party of Five.

***

I tried to nap.

***

I dropped off laundry.

***

I met E to see The Baxter. We saw it at the newly opened IFC Film Center, where I'd also seen Me, You and Everyone We Know. It costs $10.75 to see a movie there, but do I care? No. Why? Because there is an obscene amount of leg room. It's as though they forgot to install every other row. And, you get to sit in gigantic purple fuzzy chairs that you might have in your living room if you were stylish and mod and rich.

You must see this movie. Hilarious. Subtle. Michelle Williams is adorable. I am most enamored with the film's sentiment that everyone, at some point in their life, thinks of themselves as a baxter.

***

I took a cab home afterwards as I was feeling ill post-eating again. I thought rice would be ok, but no! Made some phone calls, felt delirious, tried to watch Crash with D but passed out about halfway through.

***

I am at work today and probably shouldn't be, but there is much work to do and not many sick days remaining. I used up my "sick event" with the kidney stone fiasco so now I can't be sick for more than two days for the remainder of the year.

***

In other news, I saw Oldboy this weekend and it was super awesome.

***

I am still a bit delirious so I am going to stop writing now.

***

Hope you are all well.

Less Than Zero

D and I got Less Than Zero from Netflix last week.

D put it in the queue because he decided, a few weeks ago, that he thought Bret Easton Ellis was a good writer because American Psycho , the movie, is so very awesome.

He read Less Than Zero, and when he finished, handed it to me and said "Do you want to read it?"

"Should I?"

"Well..."

"I guess I should, since it's in the queue."

"Yeah, I guess you should."

"Was it good?"

"Well..."

I decided that I'd read half of it, given its very short length, and would decide at that point if I would continue.

D and I had a fight on the night that I started reading it, which resulted in my accidentally read more than half of it as I tried to distract myself from my mood and his snoring.

I had to continue on. After all, the book is short and not much of a time or emotional commitment.

I finished it in a day, and decided that I hated it.

I hated the characters, the story, the lack of plot, the coincidences, the style, the blah. It did nothing for me.

D said "Should we watch the movie?"

We decided that we would, if only to determine what character Robert Downey Jr. was playing. We both admitted that we'd been under the impression that he was the main character, but after reading the book were both convinced he'd be playing Julian.

Turned out Robert Downey Jr. played Julian in the adaptation.

OK.

So the movie was infinitely worse than the book. It was an abomination. Worst. Movie. Ever.

Why?

Because it was a terrible adaptation of a book that I thought I'd hated.

As I watched the movie, I realized that I didn't hate the book at all.

I felt so betrayed by the adaptation. I kept yelling "Did anyone involved in this movie even read the book!?!?!" "They are missing the whole fucking point!" "If James Spader and Robert Downey Jr. don't make out right now, I am going to throw something through your TV!" "Where is the bisexuality?" "Andrew McCarthey is fucking RIDICULOUS! He's not even doing drugs! What book did these people read for the love of god this is the worst movie I have ever seen!"

D said "Where is the ennui?" "This isn't jaded at all!" "Can you explain why Jamie Gertz ever had a career?"

I said "They need to remake this movie."

It was then that I realized that, despite not liking the book, the book is good. The book is damn good. It's the vibe and the theme and the culture. Seeing that culture betrayed drove me insane. It made me laugh. It disgusted me. Reading the book is torture, and I think that's the point.

I don't know what the point of this entry is.

Oh - right - I think I mentioned in a previous entry that reading Less Than Zero made me feel dirty and I would like to retract that statement.

Watching Less Than Zero made me feel dirty.

The book, in contrast, is amazing.