Sir, You Can't Poo There

I would like to talk a bit about expectations. Expectations are all around us. They help form the worldview that we all hold. Now obviously they are no constant. Two neighbors can have diametrically opposed sets of expectations. It depends on what you value and where you are in your life. Let me tell you about some of my expectations.

For Our World and Country:

• They will clone dinosaurs (read here), Jurassic Park will come true, and Michael Crichton will look like a fucking genius.

• Seals will one day become the dominant species on earth making Kurt Vonnegut look like a fucking genius.

• The Chicago Cubs (although I am a fan) will probably never win a World Series.

• One day we will find out the Vikings actually got to the moon first.

Awww shit!

• Public transportation is never enjoyable.

This is one example of the type of person you see on public transportation. 

• When aliens bother to stop here, they’ll pull an upper decker in the White House and flip the bird as they fly away from Earth screaming Good luck, assholes!

• When the USA goes bankrupt, I fully expect I’ll have to eat at least one ferret.

• Homeless people will be turned into food (it’s only a matter of time people) but Charlton Heston won’t be around to tell us the better.

Well, what did you think we were going to do with every dumbass who shot themselves because we let them have guns?

• Pat Flaherty will never pay me the money he owes me because he is an incompetent, cheap bastard.

So why are we talking about expectations? Please allow me to explicate my stimulus. In January I was given a job at the company I was temping for. The company has five offices. Two on the South Side of Chicago, one downtown, one in Springfield, Illinois, and one in the nation’s capitol.

I work at the one on the South Side in an area not considered to be the greatest neighborhood. I must say that my expectation working in the neighborhood has been completely torn down. It was probably my suburban upbringing that skewed my vantage point. I don’t know if I was expecting an active war zone, but it really has proven to be anything but that. I enjoy going to work everyday.

One of the aspects of my job, however, is that I need to move around the city to different locations. I spend a lot of time at the downtown office and I considered this to be a perk. When I go downtown, I feel like an actual member of society. The hustle bustle of the working world envelops me. Delivery trucks zoom goods from office to office and throughout the country and world. The city is an active machine; you can almost hear the gears turning below the streets.

If you have a moment, people watching is quite fun. One constant is that everyone is walking fast and talking on their cell phones because they are obviously very important. Personally, I like to walk obnoxiously slow for two reasons. First, I know I’m not important so I’m not going put up any facades. Second, I like to mess with the important people and get in their way a little bit. I figure it’s a good way to bring them back down to earth.

So with all of these upstanding citizens of great importance and class, you would understand my surprise when I walked into the bathroom at work and found a wonderful fecal gift. Someone defecated in the urinal.

Dramatization of the event

My first thought was Where is my phone? This needs to be documented. Unfortunately (or fortunately for you readers), I had left it in the office. So I did my business and returned to the office.

Now I must say this fecal vandal is obviously a professional. I’ve never entered that bathroom without being accompanied by three or four other men. It’s a busy shared washroom on a busy floor. How he got away with that is beyond me. Maybe he was prairie dogging and all the stalls were occupied. Maybe it was this guy’s last day and he is incredibly passive aggressive and talented with his sphincter. 

Either way my expectations were shattered that day. It became very apparent that even at the height of culture and civilization, we’re all just mildly well trained animals. And every now and again, the monkey rears its ugly head. 

The Threat Down

The last two days have been particularly gloomy here in the wonderful city of Chicago. Cloudy mornings and afternoons obscure the sun’s warmth at a time when we need it most. Persistent cold is sneaking up on us and there is no denying that the seasons are changing. As the sun progressively sets earlier the motivation for many to be outside diminishes. This is the classic Midwestern hibernation stage of the year in which we fatten up and become very pale. For some reason when we emerge in the spring, we don’t think of moving away. We may all be truly insane. 

A recent conversation at work sparked two separate emotions in me: happiness and utter fear. Okay - first the happiness. My boss came into my office to ask me if I was pursuing other jobs in the near future. Being a temp worker, this is exciting because it looks like there is a good chance I’ll be hired on soon. As the smell of my boss’ french fries wafted through the air came the impending fear that I will experience for the rest of my life. It started ever so innocently. 

My co-worker, who was also enjoying the smell of those fries, was explaining how she just wanted to go home and get into her bed and watch movies. I can’t blame her. It’s gloomy out there. The two women then started talking about Lifetime and Oxygen. 

Now a Public Service Announcement for all of my female readers. Here’s an insight into the male mind. When Lifetime or Oxygen comes up in conversation, the auditory regions of the brain shut down. Have you ever noticed you kind of have to nudge a man after you’ve been talking about a Lifetime original? That’s because he’s making his lineup for his fantasy football team, picturing lesbians in a pillow fight, or imagining how many rams he could lasso in twenty minutes.

Scientists have concluded that on average the male brain is twelve times more powerful than the female counterpart.

 

Now because of this biological adaptation the male does not know much about Lifetime and Oxygen other than to avoid them while channel surfing. We are also collectively aware of what the basic program on Lifetime entails:

• Woman is abused by her husband. She feeds him bacon everyday and waits for the heart attack.
• Woman is abused by her drunken husband. Tears ensue.
• Teenage girl is molested by a clown. She must overcome her fear of men and clowns.
• Men are evil. Men are evil. Men are evil.

These shows are downers and I don’t get why anyone would want to watch them. Now obviously this is a male perspective because the channel is quite popular amongst the ladies. However I learned more about Oxygen today. Men, we may be in trouble. For my male readers let me explain the show ‘Snapped’. Apparently this show documents the lives of women who have ‘snapped’ and killed their husbands and boyfriends. They interview the ladies in prison and talk to their family and friends. It’s a reality show that apparently is a big hit with women. The ladies in my office seem to find it ‘entertaining’ and ‘hard not to get into’. 

This is Lauren Zalaznick COO/CEO of Oxygen. I bet a few men have woke up to see her standing over them with a butcher knife.

Such a big hit it is that on Sundays while the gentlemen are in the basement watching football and ignoring wives and girlfriends, Oxygen has marathons of the show that basically demonstrates how not to get caught killing your man. It’s delicately dancing the line between a how-to educational experience and entertainment. Don’t put Drano in his soup because the cops will definitely find out. Good to know. I’m storing that in the back of my head until the next time he checks out Joan next door. It is dangerous to watch marathons about killing your boyfriend or husband. It gets you thinking. Guys do stupid stuff that annoys the ladies. For example:

• Dutch ovens
•  Leaving the toilet seat up at night so the lady gets her butt wet
• Curiosity about the back door
• The phrase ‘What’s for dinner, toots?’
• Refusing to go to the ballet because you’re so close to training the dog to say ‘Ay Ay Captain!’
• Going bald and refusing to admit it thus making your wife deal with the terrible comb-over.
• Get a prescription for Viagra. That’s a commitment many ladies may prefer to pass on. 

I have a message to the Oxygen network. Let’s tone it down. While this show may be entertaining for women, are marathons really necessary? It may just push a woman over the edge. Do you see men watching pornography marathons? No. I think that would make women just as nervous and disgusted as ‘Snapped’ makes me feel. 

For all you women out there I have a message as well. Think about this a little bit. If you kill your man, who will be your pipe-fitter? Wrestle bears away in the snow? Who will bring back raccoon pelts to warm you during the winter? Who will fish your dumb kid’s dead hamster out of the sum-pump? Exactly! A man will and he’ll do it with a smile and make the world feel good. There are also many other useful things a man can do. For more information, inquire with your local man. 

Artist's rendition of your local area man.

Men, I also have a message for us. Be vigilant for two reasons my brothers. First reason being that it is now evident that the female media is clearly brainwashing women to become man-hating lesbians hell-bent on the destruction of men. A mouthful indeed, but very dangerous. And no, these lesbians are not cool. Secondly, we have to look within. The women are converting men to join their fight against us. There are traitors at every corner. The two signs of a traitor are a man’s lack of testicles and his ability to watch Lifetime and Oxygen. They go hand in hand. If you know of a man that watches or supports Lifetime or Oxygen, please take an appropriate course to neutralize him. It’s our duty. Here is the biggest traitor of them all:

President of Oxygen Jason Klarman. He is the epitome of traitor and should be considered public enemy #1. His lack of testicles and high pitched voice should make him easy to locate.

I’m Just a Temporary Worker, I’m Not Going to Learn All of your Names: A Rant About My Life Choices thus Far.

A few months ago I received a random call from a staffing agency in Chicago. They wouldn’t tell me where they got my resume and wanted to interview me for a legal assistant position at a firm. Despite being somewhat shaded out by this, I figured What the hell?

If you don’t know me here’s some background. After four years of college at Marquette University in Milwaukee, my brain was recovering from the years of chemical enhancement. In this vulnerable state my brain, and myself in counterpart, decided to go right back into school for education.

I’m going to change the world, man. I know I can show those kids that school is cool.

 Like I said, vulnerable brain from chemical enhancement equals ridiculous life decisions. It would be one thing if I thought that the pension was good, summers are relatively free, and it’s somewhat stable. Nope, chemical enhanced brain thinks

Grading papers will be, like, uh, totally fun.

So I start these classes at the local university. These classes are easier than a drunken chick at her last good friend’s wedding.

Oh lord I’m getting old! I’m going to sink these cocktail sauce covered nails into the first male that passes me. Okay, the one after Uncle Chuck.

Classes led to student teaching, which was very difficult. By the way grading papers is utterly mind numbing. Chemical enhanced mind has recovered enough by this point to come to this realization. Yet, all along my academic path everyone told me that I chose a great program.

Spanish teachers are in great need you know, you’ll have a job so quickly!

And then the economy fell to the floor like that easy drunken chick from the wedding and the government decided that we don’t need teachers anymore.

Why do the kids need teachers when they will never find a job anyway?  

That being said I think you can assume by this point that I can’t find a job as a teacher. I’m not complaining because I don’t have to deal with high school students all day. You know you’re getting old when you look at high school kids and just laugh at how stupid they are. At the same time, you laugh at how stupid you were when you were in high school. It scares me night and day that I have started to agree with my parents about adult-like things. All of these kids – even the ‘smart ones’ are stupid. And that’s not to say they’ll all be dimwitted the rest of their lives, everyone is just generally stupid in high school. Real-life examples of high school stupidity:

There’s no good reason to drive your Mom’s minivan a hundred miles per hour.

Why did you jump out the window?

My hair will totally look cool purple.  

Want to jump out of this van? No? Okay, we’ll just ride on the roof.

Yeah bro, we’re going to go drinking by those tracks where all the rats live.

Let’s go drive around and steal peoples’ pumpkins. Then throw them at their neighbors’ cars.

Going to see Scary Movie 2. You in?

Maybe your high school years were less destructive in terms of health and public property damage, but that just means you were abnormally mature.

So before I started this rant on school I was on the way to a job interview, right?

Right. So I go into this staffing agency downtown and it actually is not a scam! They make me perform a few tests to make sure I’ve seen a computer in the last fifteen years and tell me they will get back to me with a placement. They did and I find myself working at a non-profit daycare center in the city. The assignment is one-month long. Two weeks at the administrative office and two weeks at the school center doing data entry and meeting with a few clients from time to time. The staffing agency's placements are the start of good in-between jobs until I can find something better. Easy enough, sounds great to me.  

Now I have never been in the typical office environment before. Ironically enough, it’s like being in high school. They give you eight hours to finish work that will take you maybe two hours and you are surrounded by a) stupid people b) people you don’t know, don't want to know or just straight up ignore c) the few people you have something in common with or d) people whose arrival prompts you pretend to do what you’re supposed to be doing.

Now I can make this observation because despite my assignment being for one month, I have now been at my assignment for two months. Here’s the problem. The non-profit keeps extending me by a week. Originally coming into the assignment, my strategy was simple:

 Work and get the hell out of there. Restart next morning.

Because of my plan I was cordial to most folk and engaged in mindless small talk, but I didn’t bother to learn all of their names.

Why? My brain is already full of useless junk. I’m only here for a month. I’ll have to make room to learn these names, and then I’ll forget the Star Spangled Banner. That’s not okay with me because when I go to Hawks games, I want to look patriotic.    
  

Maybe this makes me a bad person. Maybe I’m somewhat anti-social. Maybe I’m just prioritizing and allowing my brain to work at peak efficiency. Either way, after being extended over and over again, I only know about twenty five percent of the people’s names who I see every day.

Right now, I look forward to the next job I get. But I’m sure once I’m there for a month or two, there will be another one of these long rants. I may be a lot of things, but I’m definitely a very young old curmudgeon.