Escalator Madness

Well I had meant to keep up with this blogginb but the beautiful weather last week threw me off schedule.  There was so much reading and tanning in my bikini in my backyard (while a creepy guy rang the doorbell, but that is a story for another day), and there was a ton of wine to drink.  So I know you all understand why I couldn't be online.  Now that I am back inside I have an observation/face punch for your enjoyment. 

I am trying my very best to adapt to this crazy crazy city of Hamilton.  I know to many people Toronto seems like the big crazy city, but to me it is organized chaos.  In Hamilton there is no method to their madness, there is no reasoning.  They drive their cars like street lights are a mild warning, they never walk anywhere, but perhaps most infuriating of all, they refuse to obey the simple rules of the escalator.

I will admit, I was once upon a time also naive to these rules.  But there are only two real rules, and they are easy to remember and just as easy to follow.  They bring order and meaning and a wonderful sense of organization to the world.  You know where you are going and what you are doing and how long it will take you to get there.

I was introduced to these rules when I first moved to Toronto.  I had hopped on an escalator.  Who knows where, the details are foggy.  Possibly at the mall, maybe coming out of the subway.  It doesn't matter.  What I remember clearly is a voice, loud and demanding, shouting at me, "STAND RIGHT WALK LEFT STAND RIGHT WALK LEFT".  That was how I learnt.  Never again did I forget.  But here in Hamilton, every day at the mall I encounter the uninitiated.  They refuse to learn the method.  It only makes sense people.  Think about it.  You want to walk up the escalator, you are in a hurry because you left your baby in the car while you went to do some shopping and the sun just came out and they are probably dehydrating as we speak.  There is a sudden announcement that pajamas are on sale at Old Navy and you look down and realize your going out pjs are looking a little ratty (just kidding - this never happens in Hamilton, no jammies are too disgusting to save only for wearing inside your house!).  Or you have just worked an entire shift and your feet are tired, you can't possibly climb the elevator and yet the people behind you are pressuring you to move.

O Hamilton, there is a way to solve these problems.  Please.  Please.  Just listen to reason.  It only makes sense.  If you are tired and feel like a rest and want to enjoy a leasurely ride down or up to the next floor, just stay to right.  Hold the railing.  Relax.  If you are in a rush, or just feel like using your legs a little extra, go to the left where there will be a free and clear lane to walk up. 

To illustrate my point I have a real live picture of my ride down the escalator of the way people were standing. This is madness.  Pure madness.  Also it might be madness to pretend to be texting when you are actually photographing people because you are having an attack of rage because they cannot properly use an escalator.  Please note the lady with the cane exiting on the LEFT.  There is no way she was walking down the escalator. 

STAND RIGHT WALK LEFT!!!!

Leons Versus The Brick - An Internet Showdown

****  UPDATE AT BOTTOM ****

Note: Re-updated.  Darn you Leon's.  Darn you to heck.

Another note:  Re-re-updated.

Since we have a little bit of wedding present money left to spend, and a brand new rental house to furnish, we've been buying furniture.  Specifically a bedroom set from Leons and a living room set from The Brick.  We have had two radically different experiences that I would like to share with you. 

Leons

Go shopping at the Danforth store.  Have sales person follow us around.  Choose furniture.  Wait half an hour for the order to be processed.  Wait some more while she wandered around doing nothing and trying to make us buy more furniture. 

Day of delivery.  Wait for phone call, never received.  They show up randomly and deliver furniture.  Footboard is smashed all up.  Dresser drawers are uneven and don't close.  Night table is not put together properly.

Call Leons.  Am told someone will come to fix it.  Specifically describe problems and say, `Will the technician be able to take apart the dresser because that is the only way to fix it?". 

Technician comes.  Cannot take apart dresser.  Fill out forms.  Leaves.  Without fixing anything, except a little paint on the night table to hide the fact it was not put together properly.

Another day off work, waiting around.  This is $80 I could desperately use, Leons!  New footboard is fine.  New dresser is dented.  Given $100 off.

Decide that is not acceptable because the dent is really noticeable.  Call Leons.  Offer to send another dresser and let us keep $100 off for the hassle.

Dresser #3 is broken and cannot be taken off the truck it is so severely damaged structurally, good thing I took another day off work.  We had been assured it was in good condition because a manager had checked it.  Right.  Just like every time I call and they don't call me back and I call again and they say, "O I was just looking at your file and was about to call."  Don't patronize me Leons.

Call Leons.  Ask for a fourth dresser.  No problem.  It will all be fine, Jason assures me.  Bed doesn't go together.  Technician will come and fix it.  Bed is apparently always difficult to put together, but we were told it would be easy for us to do ourselves.

Technician comes and fixes bed for us.  Keep counting, this is day five off work.

Night before Leons is supposed to deliver the fourth dresser, I call Leons in Toronto, they are sure it has been double checked by a manager.  They offer to call the store in Burlington and call me back.  Call back, oops, dresser number four is broken too.  Maybe we have to wait until a new shipment in the end of December?  Who knows.  I ask for a further discount.  Am assured that of course there will be one after the dresser is delivered.

Get a call.  Possibly a dresser for us.  They will deliver it.  I ask the Burlington store about a discount, of course we will get one, they understand that we have taken six days off work to wait around for their delivery guys who never call because the one time we had to be out of the house they promised they would call an hour before so we could get back in time and they didn't call until they were already at the house. 

Dresser is delivered.   It is fine.  We take it.

Wait for Leons to call us about discount.

Keep waiting.

Call them.  Manager will call me back. 

Keep waiting.

Call again.  O, what great timing!  They were just going over our file and about to call me back.  They offer me $100.  The original $100.  No discount for the FOUR extra days off work?  I ask how I can get a hold of head office or someone above the store manager.  Apparently everything is handled through store managers and nothing else.  I only want to let someone know about my issues with their quality control.  Nope.  No way.  I explain that I have never heard of a large corporation that doesn't have an organized hierarchy for complaints.  Still nothing.  If you had a problem with my mall store you could speak to the manager, then the store manager, then the district manager, and you could take it all the way up to the head office if you felt so inclined.  Leons has no such hierarchy.

Fine.  We will take the $100 discount.  Well, we can't actually have it because it is illegal for them to store our credit card number.  Canada privacy act or some such thing.  Husband will have to call with his credit card number.  Half an hour later he gets a message saying they had used his credit card number  that was on file to give a refund of the $100.

What the hell Leons?

The Brick

Go to store.  Find couch I had already seen on sale online.  Buy couch.  The entire process (including driving to and from the store) takes under an hour, and we sat on every couch in the entire store!  The sale only took five minutes.  We bought the couches on Thursday, they offered to deliver on Saturday or Sunday (Leons doesn't deliver Sunday). 

Couches are delivered.  Minor problem, missing legs for one of the couches.  Otherwise everything is in great condition, got offered an extended warranty and given protective spray for couches.

Call the Brick.  They offer to have legs shipped to us. 

Everything is fine, our living room is ready to go and less than a week later we are sitting on our couches in our beautiful living room.


I bet you can guess which store is getting my face punch.  No?  I'll give you a hint.... 

It's not the Brick.


**** UPDATE ****

Yesterday (3 whole weeks after I first posted this and then sent it in an email along with the blog link to Leon's to show them that I mean business about hating them), my Husband got a phone call from Leon's.  We stared, confused, at the call display, wondering what awful thing they were calling to tell us now.  Finally I said, "well you might as well answer it".  He answered the phone and I heard him say, "well you can talk to her", and handed the phone to me.  Imagine my shocked surprise to find out they were calling to apologize for their terrible service, and to tell me they had discussed the problem with their supplier AND in the most shocking news off all, they would like to offer us an additional $200 off. 

In conclusion, I felt like I won.  Although on further reflection I feel what I won was a major battle, that will have minor long term reprecussions for them in that we will not shop at there store any more (ever heard of 'too little, too late' Leon's?), but overall they got rid of their crappy furniture and still got the majority of our hard earned money so maybe they were the winners of the war.

I thought I should update you to be fair to Leon's as a company.  If you would like to put in many many weeks of hard work, calling and never being called back, and leaving messages and never being called back, and having multiple dressers delivered and service men come to your house and $30 in long distance charges on your cell phone and waiting three months for a resolution that may never come and being filled with anger and resentment any time you spend more than five minutes in your bedroom - if all of that seems worth $300 off, then by all means, go ahead. 

Hopefully this is the conclusion of this drama.  But who can know what the New Year will hold?!?!

January 2, 2012.  That was obviously not the conclusion.  Today we checked our credit card bill.  We got $100 back.  Not $200.  Why did I ever bother?  Herm said, well you should call and ask.  But o no, not this time.  I am finished with those liars.  I am sorry I ever felt badly for being so mean and ammended this post.  DO NOT SHOP AT LEON'S.  The end.  For real this time.  O I really really hope so....

February 8, 2012.  Weeks after this whole fiasco we got a random $100 credit back.  So weird Leon's.  So weird....  In conclusion, I really don't know what to say.  Upon further review the furniture isn't even that nice.  It scratches easily.  And dust shows very clearly.  And it wasn't worth all of the hassle, or all of these updates.  I stick with my original opinion, skip Leon's. 

Face Punching Relieves Stress, Just Like Yoga!

Hello Everybody.  I know it has been a long long while since I posted.  Let me tell you, repainting a house and working part time is exhausting.  I mean, I have spent the last several years without this much activity in my life.  I don't know what to do with myself.  I am so busy all day.  Also, for a moment of complaining (something new and different, I know), retail is hard work.  To everybody who makes a living like this, I am impressed because I couldn't handle it.  My legs and feet hurt from not sitting, my brain hurts from staring at a computer and trying to shelve everything in the right place, my face hurts from constantly smiling.  Sheesh!!

But enough about me.  Here's my face punch.  It is to Lululemon.  There are many many reasons to punch this "Canadian" company who outsources all their labour to China.  But my biggest one is their new ad campaign.  It is causing a rukus from all those new-age hippy, yoga loving, skinny, rich people because they have referenced Ayn Rand on their bags with the "Who is John Galt?" saying.  Please, see here to get a little more perspective. 

If you have not read Atlas Shrugged, I need you to also go read that.  It should take you about 3 days if you have nothing to do but read full time, and are willing to experience this amazing book.  It is one of my all time favourite books.  It is beautiful.  I cannot possibly even begin to analyze or get into the ideologies of this book.  But I will try to briefly tell you what it means to me.  Please understand this is a very long book and I am going to summarize it in 3 sentences.  If you can do it better, by all means add it to the comments.

For me, this book is about a group of elite people who are willing to work very hard and do whatever it takes to rise to the top.  Once they have done this they dominate the economy and support the rest of the world through their brains, hard work, time, energy and effort.  Then, they go on strike.  They leave the world to fend for itself and it falls apart into shambles without them.  My biggest dream, after reading this book, was that I might somehow be included in this group.  They didn't discriminate, you didn't have to be the best in business, it was also people who excelled in art, or music, or even mothering.  You just had to pour your heart and soul and passion into whatever you did.  The idea being that not everybody is equal, and not every body is willing to work hard enough to make it. 

This is not a popular idea.  We have become a lazy generation/world.  We would rather blame someone else, or not bother to do the extra work, or pretend we can't make changes.  What infuriates me about Lulu using my beautiful Atlas Shrugged is that the idea of snobby people not understanding what and who John Galt is, have somehow gotten upset about it for the opposite reason.  I actually feel like the situation could have happened in the novel, if Rand had thought of something so rediculous.  The general public is upset that Ayn Rand is polluting their Lulu, but the real problem is that Lulu has polluted John Galt with its senitmental uninspiring take on what is very important to me.

I have another example - the Occupy movement.  At first I supported it because I thought it was an interested way to make a point.  Then I started to lose interest because if I wanted to make a real statement about capitalism I would have camped out in Queens Park not taken up the only green space in a student/poor neighbourhood.  But, my real problem, was when I was following the twitter feed and they thanked someone for bringing pizza, then it was tweeted that Pizza Hut is the official sponser of Occupy TO.  Yes, that is right.  The Occupy movement had corporate sponsers.  Hmmmm  what is wrong with this picture? 

I have obviously lost all track of where I was going with this.  Mostly I guess what I want to say is, stop Occupying, because I imagine it is hard to conduct a job search and get ready for interviews from a yurt, and Chip Wilson get Atlas off your damn bags!!  The people who understand that the point of your business is to make money already know it, and you are upsetting the rest of them.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

This is part punch in the face and part confessional.  I have a secret to confess, and after I confess it, it will no longer be a secret.  First, not the secret, I love postsecret.  I read it every Sunday and have for a very long time.  But lately I have noticed some of the things on there are not secrets.  For example: "At our nation's capitol in our national history museum all the souveniers are made in a different country".  This is not a secret.  It is an observation.  Anybody who goes anywhere can look at the stickers on the souveniers and see where they are made.  It is open and common knowledge.  NOT a secret.  I like the life changing dramatic ones, or even the random and revealingly secret ones.  Frank, please, stop posting the secrets of people who aren't creative enough to think of a real secret and who are wasting my time with observations, and not even good ones.

So here's a real secret for you, that is about to become just public knowledge.

Way back in highschool I had a problem.  An addiction you might even say....  Does anybody else remember $3.99 Big Mac Tuesdays?  Every week I would go with my friends and pretend I was just going to get the burger for $1.99 but I would always end up with the entire meal.  Every time.  Every week.  Thousands and thousands of calories wasted.  Did I mention I always super sized?

In order to stop this sad and pathetic addiction I gave up meat.  Extreme?  Yes.  I am a person who almost always deals with extremes.  I could not eat meat and just avoid the temptations of McD's.  So I gave it up.  Then one summer I lived with my sister who doesn't eat meat.  She told me I couldn't eat bacon anymore and she is really healthy and I was/am a little frightened of her so I stopped eating bacon and all other pork products. 

The end of this is that I haven't had meat in my belly for probably five years.  I have been a pseudo vegetarian.  I still eat chicken and fish and seafood but no beef or pork.  Or I used to....

Tonight I made my most delicious pasta.  A mix of alfredo sauce with chipotle and roasted red pepper and garlic and all sorts of delicious things.  But it is supposed to be topped with bacon.  There was bacon for Husband, and tonight there was bacon for me.  I want to say it was gross and awful.  I hated it.  I felt violated by piggy horribleness.

Not true.  I loved it.  LOVED.  It was amazing.  It was delicious.  The salty, porky, dead animal melting on my tongue.  There are no words.  Vegetarians, if you have ever thought or fantasized about this, wondered if you could go back to meat, I tell you yes.  Yes you can.  And it will be incredible.  Amazing.  No words.  I am speechless.  I have to go get more bacon right now in fact.  And then ham, first a ham sandwich then a big juicy slice of ham.  Maybe a burger.  Or a steak.  Smothered in bbq sauce and onions and mushrooms in red wine sauce.  Meatloaf wrapped in bacon.  Doors are flinging open in my life.  Watch out roast beef, here I come!  And then, when I'm good and ready, I will go back to McDonalds and order a Big Mac and let the sauce drip all over my face, dip my super sized fries in ketchup and let some 16 year old refill my Coke. 

U Haul U Suck

I'm back online again! This time with a very special face punch!

We moved on Saturday from Toronto to Hamilton.  We had to book our elevator time a month ahead (11:30-1:30), and we also booked our truck far in advance of moving day.  We were told someone from U Haul would give us a call the night before the move to confirm the time and place.  They never called but we did get a fun email saying we were to pick the truck up in Etobicoke at 12:30.  Well this would obviously never work.  I called U Haul and spoke to their people, who mostly didn't speak, in fact I would sit in silence on the phone waiting for them to respond to my questions.  Apparently the problem was the man (let's call him Albert, so I don't have to keep typing 'the guy') who currently had the truck wouldn't have it back until 10:30 Saturday morning so we just couldn't have it earlier.  They had no back up plan, no way to confirm we would have our truck, and no extra truck for us to take early.  I asked to speak to the people who actually made the reservations.  Apparently what the woman I was talking to heard was, "give the phone to your friend".  I spoke to another lady, who said the same things all over again, just as slowly as the first. 

Finally, since they weren't helping me, I hung up and looked up the head office number for myself.  I gave them a call, pressed a thousand numbers to get to a real person, who transfered me, where I pressed a thousand more buttons, to get put on hold.  I was also getting ready to go out, so I waited on hold for 15 minutes, and then did the thing that makes you get off hold very quickly.  I started to brush my teeth.  Obviously my call was picked up the moment I was most minty and frothy. 

I re-explained my issue (well, first I spit out my toothpaste), again letting them know the elevator was booked all day and I needed to get out of my apartment and to Hamilton.  Finally, after much doing nothing and not offering any solutions (except to say Albert had been called and confirmed he would be in at 10:30 the next morning.  More on this lie later), the representative said (almost sarcastically, might I add), "well I'm sorry if this caused any inconvenience".  What?  Really?  Why would it be inconvenient for me to not be able to move?  After we've packed up all our things, Herm has a job in Hamilton, our friends are coming over to carry the heavy stuff and we've already rented a truck?  Nah, not inconvenient, I think I'll stay in Toronto.  Good plan U Haul.  This move was a silly idea. 

So, with nothing more to be done, they said to be there at 11:30.  From previous U Haul experiences, I sent my Husband out at 10:30 to get the truck.  The truck wasn't there.  This was not surprising.  They assured him they had already called Albert and that he was coming.  Finally, after half an hour of waiting Husband asked them to recall Albert.  It took them 20 minutes to even find the number.  When they did call it was out of service.  Now that doesn't seem right.  How did they speak to him both last night and this morning already?  And if they had just called him why did they bury his number under a thousand other papers and then shuffle them all together making it difficult to find the number they needed to 're-call'?  Oops....  caught in your own web of lies U Haul...

Two hours later, no Al, no truck, and no solution.  Their customer service reps actually ignored my husband while he stood and spoke to them.  Finally my wonderful MIL (mother in law) found us another truck to rent.  From Discount.  This is where it gets hilarious.

U Haul has a policy if they can't make a reservation you get $50.  This is rediculous for a number of reasons.  First - if we had've been paid for the amount of time we spent on the phone and waiting fifty dollars would hardly add up to minimum wage!  Also, who has a policy knowing they will fail?  They must miss so many truck rentals they finally had to start paying people.  Probably to stop them from punching faces with their real fists on just their little weak internet ones!

What if other people had this policy?  What if I go to get surgery and the surgeon says, 'just to let you know, I mean this usually works out, but if I really ruin your brain we'll give you fifty bucks.  Hell, if you die, we'll even send it along to your next of kin.'

Or, what if I'm allergic if peanuts and I ask if something has it and I'm told, 'it shouldn't.  But it could.  If it does and you go into anaphalactic shock, well, we'll give you $50.'

Or policemen, what if every time they arrest the wrong person and jail them for 30 years that person gets $50?  Fair trade?  What if you go to the movie and they tell you to go the first theatre and if it isn't the movie you wanted you can have $50?  Or at the grocery store, if your milk has already expired, $50?

You all know I am not one to argue with free money.  But this seems a little over the top.  How about, instead of this strange incentive, you just do your job?  Because it isn't that hard.  Nope, they chose instead of ruin my day and try to entrap me in Toronto.  I told you this city was abusive!

In shocking news, after all of that, Herm was able to get to Discount, rent the truck, go pick it up from the lot and get back up to our apartment building in about half an hour.  See U Haul?  It can be done.  Plus the truck was at least $50 cheaper. 

The real mystery is whether or not Albert ever returned the truck.  O my gosh!!  I just solved my own mystery!!  Did anybody else see this?  Albert you maniac!!  Bring back our truck!!  haha

So, U Haul, here is your face punch, for your rude customer service reps, your ineffective scheduling, your complete lack of caring for people who are only trying to pay you money for you to do your job properly, and for your stupid policy about not being able to keep reservations. 

It's almost a punch in the face....

I am going to file this under 'face punching' but it was more of a strange encounter and I guess I want to punch the encounter itself.

Since Husband and I are moving in just over a week (more on that later), we headed out to spend our leftover wedding present money on new bedroom furniture.  We have decided to rent and not buy a house so we can continue to spend money frivolously on furniture and vacations and our fur baby rather than being responsible adults who pay for things like new roofs, and worry about the basement flooding or buying a new washing machine.  We are not ready for that.
Anyway, the point of this post is not that I can ramble on about nothing for pages and pages....

The point IS we found ourselves standing in the hallway waiting for the elevator.  You may remember, the elevators in our building are rather slow.  See my previous face punch for proof of this.  We were waiting and waiting and waiting.  Then the most adorable little old lady came to wait with us.  Picture this - she's about 4'5, slight stoop but not enough for a grotesque hunchback, lots of lipstick, standard little old lady haircut (you know exactly what I mean), a cart on wheels almost as big as her.  Adorable, right?  She stood and looked at me and said, "You know it's pouring rain out there, right?" 

We were headed to the parking garage to get the car, so I was only wearing a sweater and jeans (no, not the jeans I have outgrown, an older pair I can still squeeze into, no cause for celebration).  I smiled, as one does at cute little old ladies, and said, "o we're just going to the garage, but thank you."

She smiled sweetly at me and inquired, "Do you have a car?"

I continued smiling, trying to be polite even though my cheeks were beginning to hurt.  Isn't there a time when the pleasantries have gone too far?  I am just waiting for the elevator, we don't have to be best friends.  We can wait in silence.  Crazy little adorable lady.  But she was being sweet, so I replied, "Yes." and was hoping to end the conversation there.

Nope.

She was still smiling, although it now felt a little strained, and slightly sinister.  Then she said, with saracasm dripping so heavily from her voice it formed a little puddle of bitterness at her feet, "Well isn't that nice for you." [italics mine]. 

For some reason, this last comment was a strange mixture of mean and snobby and pleading (we both felt as though we should offer her a ride to a place of her choosing), with a little bit of 'none of your business', and it struck me as hilarious.  Really irrationally funny.  I could hardly hold in my laughter.

This being the end of the encounter, you understand my confusion.  I can't possibly punch this little lady in the face, not even in cyber space.  So here I am, not punching her, but left with the feeling something should be punched.  You decide for yourself.

I do have a few real punches while we are the subject.  First - PUT AWAY YOUR CANADA GOOSE JACKETS TORONTO!!!!!!  Just because you can afford a jacket that costs roughly twice my monthly rent doesn't mean there is any reason at all to wear it while it is about 15 degrees out.  Toronto never gets cold enough to really need one of these jackets anyways, so really you just look wimpy and stupid wearing it in the beginning of autumn.  If you insist on having one at least wait until it gets somewhere closer to freezing. 

Second, I had a special request for a punch - those disgusting new commercials for cold sore medication have gotten disgustingly graphic.  If your mouth herpes are so bad they disfigure your entire face, do us all a favour and stay home.  Do not show them to me on television.   I have a sensitive stomach.

Cha Cha Cha Disgusting!

I have a punch in the face that I've been waiting a long time to send out.  It is to those damn little Charmin Bears and their little bear butts.  I see this commercial all the time.  Mama Bear is upset about the state of Baby Bear's behind.  It is simply covered in toilet paper residue.  I have to see this commercial while I am eating, or trying to relax.  I have to watch this little bear wave his dirty little bear (bare?) bottom all over our television set, and quite frankly, I am sick of it.  It makes me feel physically ill.  I will admit, I am often over sensitive and have been known to cover my eyes during violent movie scenes, or graphic episodes of CSI.  But not commercials.

These bears simply reveal too much.  It is not cute.  They are gross.  I hate them.  Really and truly.  Hate!  If people all over the world are really having problems with too much toilet paper being left behind after they use the washroom, well I just don't care.  Much like yeast infection commercials, this is one I can do without.  If you are having this problem, figure out a solution quietly, you don't need a dancing bear!  Although while searching for pictures of these little bears I found this blog post that made me laugh.  Above all else, if you are going to feature dancing bears with toilet paper stuck to their butts, it is essential to be accurate, especially about the quantity of debris left behind.  Really?  Who decides if cartoon bears are not honestly displaying the correct amount of paper left behind after wiping?  Can I have that job? 

Writing this face punch reminded me of a fun bathroom display in NYC.  We were out and about for New Years Eve and needed to find a bathroom when this exciting Charmin display appeared!  Okay, Charmin, maybe you aren't all bad....  but enough with the bears!  Please.



Free bathrooms!  Yay!  This was a great way to spend a few hours in NYC!



After bathroom activities included fake tobogganning with this Charmin bear.

Cheerleading.  Do you prefer soft or strong?  What an odd and effective ad campaign.

Punch in the Face #3

This is going to sound like a petty complaint...  you will think, "Karen, you do nothing with your life, you have nothing but time to waste every day, shut up already."  Now you have been warned.  If you still want to hear my sad story, please continue reading.  *Cue very tiny violins*

This has been an especially busy move in/out month in our apartment building, I was told 40 apartments are changing hands for October.  Do this math for me, will you?  40 apartments, 4 elevators, minus 2 elevators that are broken, minus 1 elevator on service for the cleaning staff, minus 2 elevators that are on service for move ins, minus 4 elevators that once they go to the basement skip the ground floor, leaving crowds of people stranded waiting on the ground floor while they carry on up to floor 26 with only a single person.  To top it off, today was flea and heartworm medication day for my puppy.  To put it gently, this medicine makes his sensitive stomach 'upset' the day he takes it.  There is absolutely no time to wait fifteen minutes for the elevator to dilly dally about, being repaired and cleaning floors and moving in new people.  This is especially frustrating because it has been going on since Wednesday and shows no sign of stopping.

I am giving this face punch to the higher powers in this building who have allowed so many new people to move in and take over our elevators.  Who are these new people?  We don't know them.  They could be serial killers, or loud music players, or people who throw items off their balconies.  We have no reason to trust them, no reason to give them our precious elevator space.  This is simply madness.  To inconveniance good, rent paying, quiet, perfectly lovely tenants for the sake of these unknown strangers simply doesn't make any kind of sense.

I am also face punching the elevators themselves.  Elevators, why must you break down?  Why do you always need to be repaired and even after being repaired are still broken?  I can't understand why you continue to torture me.  Remember the time you locked me and my dog in your moving coffin of a body?  Must I really endure more than that?  Is it because my New Year's Resolution was to take the stairs every day and in the last ten months I have taken the stairs approximately twice?  Is this my punishment?  I apologize.  I will try harder.  I promise.  But for now I must punch your face, don't take it personally.

Finally, this one is where it gets personal.  Today, after waiting an obscene ten whole minutes to get on an elevator, a man who was clearly moving in, filled an elevator, taking enough room for at least two people, with his foot stools and clear plastic container.  You are the new one here, show some respect, do the right thing, don't start on the wrong foot.  BOOK A GODDAM ELEVATOR!!!!!!    Consider your face punched sir.  Welcome to the building.

Punch in the Face #2

This Punch in the Face blog post was alternatively going to be titled: "Why Unemployed Bored People With A Stupid Blog About Being Unemployed And Bored Should Not Be Allowed To Have Cameras On Their Phones"  You'll see why.....  I went with the shorter and less rambling title, but thought the other was so clever I should share it with you anyway.  Now on to the face punching.

This one is for the passive aggressive people in my neighbourhood.  First, let me share a little story with you.  In university I shared a house with five other people.  One was my friend, the other four we didn't really know, even though we lived together for two full years.  We had a fun little blackboard in our kitchen where me and my friend would write fun little countdowns until Reading Week, or cheery good morning messages.  But, frequently, we would wake up to long notes about things we had done wrong, "You can't have a party this weekend", "The dishes weren't done", "The house isn't clean" "You are ruining my life and I hate living with you".  You could go to bed and say good night to everybody in the house and everything would be fine, but in the middle of the night someone would sneak out to the god awful blackboard and write notes of suppressed rage.  I am all for being passive, a harboured grudge for many years I fully support.  I am also supportive of aggression to a certain extent, not wife beating, but fights that clear the air and make you say horrible unforgiveable things and lead to sobbing through the entire next day.  But put the two together and it kills me.

So here is the reason for this sudden outburst at people who I know will not react or write in to tell me I am wrong, but who will instead start their own blog and support group for passive aggressive reactions and how some people just don't understand....

Welcome to Toronto.  Passive aggressive behaviour is in the air every where here, you can catch it faster than stomach flu if you aren't careful.  It is bred into children the way other cities teach maners.  I present to you my real life example - tired of people putting dog crap in your outdoor garbage container or green bin?  However could you solve this problem?  Here's an idea......

Yes, a fake dog with "NO" written on him pooping in your garden.  I am glad the "NO" was added, it is my favourite part.  In case you thought that fancy decoration was in fact an invitation to use their property as an animal toilet.  You know what I would prefer to having to see this in front of my house every morning?  Dog shit in my garden.  Yes.  I would prefer that strangers dogs just did their business in front of my house occasionally rather than ever EVER putting this in front of my house.  Do their friend's ever comment on it?  "O my, what an original display."  "What an innovative way to solve a problem"  I am seriously at a loss, was it piling so high they had no choice but to resort to such desperate measures?

In shocking news, the same person who has the lawn decoration also has this on their garbage can.  The fine print says, "Thank you for respecting our property".  The hilarious part is this sits about one inch away from their fenced in driveway.  Presumably the fence opens and closes, and could in fact open and have a garbage can conveniantly on wheels be wheeled inside, and then the fence could close and keep out people who keep filling this garbage container with dog waste.  Who thought this was the best way to deal with this problem?  I guess the same person who thought they should put a little plastic pooping dog in their garden.

Are you ready for more?  Good, I have so much more......

A lovely walk down a quiet street in the city....  but wait, what is that hanging from the tree support?  Could it possibly be? 

YES!!!!!!  YES IT IS!!!!!!  A bag of dog poo!!!!!!!!  Hanging in front of their house.  This is not even the  shocking part.  The most shocking part is that it has been hanging there for over a week.  This is beyond disgusting to me.  I love seeing this and inventing a story.  A responsible dog owner picks up their dog's business in a little bag, then sees a green bin sitting out on the sidewalk.  Rather than continue to carry excrement they simply drop it it in the green bin, where they assume it will be composted.  But, NO, instead it is dragged out of the green bin, and hung for the world to see.  Do these home owners think someone is coming back to claim it?  Someone will say, "o that is my dog crap, dear me I should not have put that in their green bin" and then they will take it home to their very own green bin (as directed, of course). 

Question - was it deposited in this lovely clear bag or did they transfer it to a clear bag so it was more obviously recognisable? (that is insane, you say, but did you forget these are the same people who have had a bag of poop hanging in their front yard for over seven days!?)  Next question - how do all of these people know people have used their garbages and green bins?  Do they take inventory of their garbage every day?  Is it categorized and itemized so they can immediately recognize a foreign substance? 

I thought that would be my last example and I was on my way home to write this all up for you when I saw this is my parking garage.....

There is so much drama, all the underlining and caps....  I can hardly handle it.  AND the beginning is so Big Brother-esque, it is one of the most intense signs I have ever read.  I am terrified my well behaved puppy will one day lift his leg in the parking garage and the next morning I will wake up with a rat cage on my face.

Here I will finally end this post - but fellow Torontonians, I issue a challenge to you, next time you go to nail a bag of waste to a pole in your front yard, think to yourself, "Is this really the most effective way to deal with this problem?" and if the answer is yes then by all means carry on.  The ball is in your court now, or the shit's on your lawn so to speak.....

The Very First Blog Face Punch

Let me tell you a long and rambling story about my night tonight.  The task was simple, get from Yonge and Eg to Dundas and Spadina on the TTC.  For those of you who are unsure, this should be a simple subway/streetcar combo.  Instead the subway is shut down between Bloor and Eglinton this weekend, so I boarded a bus, but it was obviously the wrong bus.  At Davisville I switched to the right bus.  Unfortunately, although going in the right direction it was a very very wrong bus for me.  The teenage boy beside me promptly got a nosebleed, causing blood to gush all over this very very crowded bus.  Rather than help, his group of friends laughed hysterically (this is not their fault, I'm sure we all would have done the same thing to our friends).  Finally a stranger gave him a kleenex and the situation seemed to be mostly under control (except for the blood that was still gushing, but at least it was rather more contained). 

Then the man next to me casually asked the time.  I had my phone out because I had already started texting to say I was going to be late for dinner, although I had left ample time.  I told him it was 5:15.  End of conversation.  Nope, it was not the end.  It was only the beginning.  He asked me if he could ask something personal, I ignored him, he asked me how long three trillion years was and if I could imagine such a thing (is it odd that I was insulted that he didn't ask me out?  remember when I mentioned my self esteem needing a boost?).  This three trillion year, one sided conversation obviously turned into a still one sided conversation about the enigma of god and how little people understand that the world was not created in 6000 years, and of course Stockwell Day....  This naturally led him to talk about the city of Toronto and how it is the third largest in the entire world after New York and Tokoyo.  I almost corrected him, but then I got a hold of myself and continued to ignore him.

Next stop - the subway.  God forbid the shuttle bus just continue south.  We all got off again and headed to the subway (except for bleeding boy who, last I heard of him, was shouting for the nearest bathroom).  Subway two stops, rather uneventful, I got off a stop early so as not to tempt fate.

I waited for the streetcar and it came quickly and was mostly empty, I took a seat beside a friendly looking man.  This was all going far too smoothly.  Not to worry - next on came the homeless guy with all of his belongings overflowing from a pushcart, which he stopped beside me.  Bring it on TTC, I have smelled far worse on your disgusting streetcars.  I stayed in my spot, even though I got hit several times with a large garbage bag containing indescribable objects.  Homeless man got off soon.  Then it was my stop.  I got up and walked calmly to the back doors.  No problem.  Then, without reason, a man in the back of the streetcar decided it was absolutely crucial for him to exit from the front of the car instead of the back with everybody else.  He started pushing through and elbowed me directly in the head, seemingly without noticing.  To make sure that he did in fact notice I shouted, rather loudly, "OWWW" while rubbing my head to get my point across.  He mumbled a sorry on his dash to the front. 

I did make it to dinner shortly after this, so all was not lost.

But here is why the TTC is getting a punch to the face.  For starters this wasn't an unusual trip, it happens every fricking time I ride the TTC.  But it is more than the ineffective service.  It is a combination of this, and the complete disregard for hygiene and cleanliness, along with the rude and cranky drivers and ticket collectors, the overpriced and underwhelming system, the fact that they have recently put up "we love safety" signs all over the place and yet they let their bus drivers do drugs and kill people, the fact that it is one of the least effective transit systems I have encountered in all the world, that Adam Giambrone couldn't even finish reading his withdrawal from the mayoral race without sobbing like a baby (not sure why this bothers me so much, but it does), the fact that one time I really really needed to spend $10 for 4 tokens and a collector absolutely refused to sell me less than 5 for $12.50 and I was super broke and had no change and instead choose to ride my bike home in the rain.  For all of these reasons I am dedicating my first punch in the face to the TTC.  Well deserved.  I hope it causes a bloody nose at least as explosive as the one I already saw tonight.