Hey Mike, I got one … you’re clueless if you don’t read the Grrr! column! Here are a few responses to Mike’s last column from the people who do … Lasette Canady, FOX News intern.
Brad D. in Concord, Calif., adds to the clueless list: You are clueless if you think passing my car in the left lane and quickly flicking on your turn signal is permission to cut in front of me just so you can go proceed through the light or make a turn one car in advance. Worse is when you sit at the light talking on your cell phone and hold all of us up. Clueless moron.
You are clueless when I purchase something from the store you are employed at, keeping in mind my business pays your salary; and when I thank you, instead of replying with, “No, sir, thank you,” you mumble, “No problem,” and sigh as if you need a quick nap. Clueless “sales associate.”
You are clueless if you think that any second-term politician in this country, regardless of their political party, “understands and cares how you feel” and “represents exactly what you need as a constituent” as I heard someone say the other day when rationalizing her selections (unsolicited feedback for those in the room, of course) on an absentee ballot — clueless registered voter.
You are clueless if you think responding to Mike Strakalogue at 1 a.m. with useless complaints about our species is a useful venting mechanism. You will be inundated with an ocean of ignorance as soon as you turn on your television or leave your driveway tomorrow morning. So yes, I gladly join the clueless. If you can’t beat them, join them.
Karen M. from Cabot, Ark.: You are clueless if you think everyone wants those damn campaign stickers you forced on them while they walked down the street. They will make great toilet targets for someone’s 2-year-old. How about asking me if I want one before sticking one on me or shoving one into my bag or armload of stuff.
You are clueless if you think I am going to stick one of your stupid signs on my lawn. I have enough obstacles to mow around. Besides, when the opposition shows up to campaign on my doorstep, I want to ask a lot of stupid questions to keep them from convincing more people that their lame ideas will actually fix the problems in this city, county, state or country.
You are clueless if you think I am going to listen to a lengthy spiel via automated phone system. I am going to give non-answers so as not to be counted in either category by your stats, folks. There are only yes and no responses allowed — you really don’t want my opinion anyway.
Caryn B. writes: You are clueless if you think everyone in the room, bus, restaurant, movie theater, etc., is interested in your cell phone conversation. No matter how entertaining or exciting you think your life is, it’s a strong possibility that others are not in agreement with you. If you can’t talk quietly on your cell phone, then don’t make a call or answer the phone.
Molly in Seattle writes: Wow, Mike — have you been visiting my office again? They’re all right here! But you missed one — the office Obliviot “I smell better than you!” who cruises into the office in a huge cloud of toxic fumes, leaving coughing, choking, sneezing co-workers in their wake. They think that fragrance makes them sexy, better looking, desirable or makes up for personality flaws. It doesn’t do any of these things (the advertisers lied), it only makes them stink.
Phil B. in Oregon writes: It’s not the techie helpline operator that is clueless, it is the company he works for that hasn’t a clue. They make their money by the number of calls they take in a 24-hour period, not the number of customers they actually help. So the techie rushes through the call to keep his quota up and his paycheck secure. As far as the BS troubleshooting steps, another company requirement, no free thinking in the call center — the company way is the only way. Do it by the printed procedure or lose your job. Miss a step and jump right to the solution, lose your job. Fix a customers problem (making a happy repeat customer) without following the rules and it’s bye-bye. Don’t blame the person on the phone trying to help. Money creates clueless companies.
Burt B. in Huntsville, Ala., responds to Chris T. (Your Grrrs Oct. 24, 2006): Wow, Chris T. in Fayetteville, you really are clueless. First of all let me say thanks for your service to our country. Now a response to your e-mail: Not everyone uses the F word. I don’t. My friends and family don’t. My work colleagues don’t. I was taught at an early age that certain words were taboo. Some words, including the F word, are considered vile and disgusting. I find it hard to understand how you have two Masters degrees but don’t know why the F word stirs up so much controversy. But then again, it’s not about education, but rather morality, decency, a respect for others and a desire not to have a potty mouth.
Zada L. writes: In response to Amie in Washington, D.C., Bathroom Grrr (Your Grrrs: Oct. 24, 2006): Amie, Amie, Amie. Who says only men take reading material to the bathroom? I’m a woman, and every Tuesday and Thursday, I print out the Grrr Column, and take it with me whenever I go to the bathroom, since I don’t really have time to read it at my desk. I’m sure people passing by the bathroom (we have one in our office suite) wonder who the hell is laughing like a loon while they do “their business,” but I really don’t care. Life is too short to care about what everyone else in the world thinks. I’m not too sure that Mike will like the fact that his column is bathroom reading material, but hey, at least it’s getting read!
Dave in Tampa writes: Amie — the reason we carry the newspaper into the bathroom is that it’s the only place we can read it in peace away from busybodies and know-it-alls in the office — like the kind who police what everyone takes to the bathroom.
Susan in Delaware responds to Jill H. (Your Grrrs: Oct. 24, 2006): I hope you are still playing the “spot the Obliviot” game in the “your grrrs” section, and I hope Jill H. was the one last week. Jill, I know that some folks pull way ahead of the stop sign — and they do for various reasons: didn’t see it, traveling too fast or they are height-impaired and just can’t see that far over the dashboard. Regardless, your job is to stop at the stop sign when you become the lead car. It does not matter if the car in front of you is stopped halfway into the intersection, and your tires (as the 2nd car in line) are on the white “stop here” line. It is still your job to wait ’til the guy in front of you crosses the intersection, then you stop and see if the way is clear for your car. (If, by chance, you are already at the stop sign once the guy in front of you drives off because he chose to pull way into the intersection, then hey, that’s great. You won’t have to move up any.) But you still have to pause (aka stop) and look to see that the way is safe. That’s just common sense. The stop sign isn’t like home plate in a ball game, as though once you tag the line, you get a “free to go through” card.
T.G. Scott in Milan, Tenn., writes: Mike, I’m annoyed by the big Grrrs just like anyone else, but it’s the little-bitty, every day piddly ones that affect me personally that drive me bonkers. My numero uno pet peeve is people (regardless of age, race, creed, color, religion, socioeconomic status, etc. — I’m very equal opportunity about it) in my way, blocking my path. I’ve very annoyed when people waste my time and hinder my progress. Whether it’s poking along in the passing lane during morning rush hour traffic, or blocking an entire aisle in a store while they get out their slide rule to figure out the merits of Product A versus Product B, it makes me wanna yell, “Get on the clue bus and move it!” If I have to give something like that a moment of contemplation, I try to be courteous and get out of folks’ way.
Paula in Dallas Grrrs: Hi Grrr! Guy! What Grrrs me is that you don’t have different grrrs every day! Just kidding, sort of. I pass time at work reading your Grrr! column and I love it. Speaking of work, what Grrrs me is the word “team” when used at work. Work as a team, be a team member, do it for the team, we are all on the same team! I call BS! We are not on the same team. Couple of weeks ago I had no choice but to be a participant on a “team building” exercise, yes, exercise. We had a scavenger hunt! Oh boy! Not to mention we had to dress professionally, which means at least for me high heel shoes! Long story short, I found myself standing in front of a not-so-desirable Target store, with NO team to be found, because these soft-soled shoed women I was teamed with ran off like a bunch of elementary school kids at recess. Long story longer, I went back to the starting point which was about four blocks away, and was asked “Why are you not with your team?” My answer, “I hate my team.”
Chad McClure writes: Mike, love ya, buddy, just wanted to point out something in the release of “Over the Hedge” that I don’t think anyone has caught yet. At one point in the movie where the animals are arguing with the raccoon, the group starts to walk off and one of the group very quietly says “Kiss my a—, buddy.” I wasn’t sure if anyone else caught this yet and wanted to take credit for it! That and do we really need this in a children’s movie? It is very subtle; I had to play it back for my wife and my mother to catch it. Anyway, happy Grring!
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