Rantin’ & Ravin’
A column by Opinion Editor Brittany Bennett on the mind blowing occasions that really make her question her faith in humanity.
A war zone takes over a shopping center
I walk into Target the other day, and I could have sworn a hurricane went through. The aisles are scattered with random products, price tags and people rushing around. The one lady could hardly push her stroller through the mess, it was a disaster zone. Target’s liquidation is now at 50 to 70 per cent off, and it has resulted in a wild shopping frenzy. For some reason, caution tape closed off part of the women’s clothing section with signs stating “do not touch merchandise within the tape”. Has Target turned into a crime scene too? I wouldn’t doubt it. All I could picture was two women fighting to the death over a cute grey blouse, I looked for the body chalk within the borders of the caution tape; nothing. I lasted about ten minutes, after I could only find one black boot in the size that I needed. “So long lone ranger, you can make it through this,” I murmur out loud to the boot, as my dad stares in confusion. Then I was out of there. Customers safety is now completely out of the picture; tripping hazards scatter the floor as if a new fashion statement, with no associates in sight. Customers have too lost their decency, leaving products everywhere and anywhere, whether that flower pot belongs in the underwear section or not. Is this what good prices have really come down to? Is there actually one thing in that store that you could not survive without? Get it together people. We still life in a somewhat civilized society despite the closing of Target, which was hardly here long enough to make a statement anyway. We all know Walmart still kicks its ass.
Being the face of the problem at a minimum wage job
Can we just take a second and feel for the poor individuals that work in the field of customer service? I am not talking about the executives, or the owners, or the top dogs, I mean everyone below – even management. Whether it’s a big box store, a restaurant, or a small sales shop, issues will arise. And guess who gets to take the hit? Most certainly not the top dogs that are the real ones in control of the problems, but instead, the minimum-waged staff working their butts off just to get by. My heart goes out to you people. They are stuck being the faces of the problems. The top dogs are not the ones working the registers and on the floor when the problems arise, so how could customers take their frustrations out on them? Take the time to hunt down who’s in charge, call their number to be redirected a billion times and finally get voicemail? Like that’s going to happen. But instead customers make a fuss to the ones who have little to no control over their problems, and it puts a burden on their day, and in some instances takes a toll on their pay if tips are involved. I think every person should experience working in some form of customer service to really see how things work on the inner level: realize how hard the people work that get shit on for things they have absolutely no control over. Or, just take the time to think through the situation, and who it is you are taking your frustrations out on. Should a cashier really have to suffer with your attitude because the store isn’t stocked properly?
After crossing Colborne headed out from GRH the other day an older gentleman in a wheel chair happened to say “good morning,” while I passed. As I always do, I responded “good morning sir,” with a smile and went on my way. From behind I heard him say, “See? That was all I was looking for from that other girl,” to his friend beside him, than mumble about how rude Laurier students can be. And I agree. For some reason Laurier Brantford students have put up this wall between us, and the Brantford locals. Well, I walk right on over that wall on a regular basis. I have watched Laurier students give dirty looks, bluntly ignore, and whisper mean things about Brantford locals right in front of them on multiple occasions. Seriously guys? Who do you think you are? Yeah, the majority of Brantford locals are out spoken, but not at all in a bad way. I absolutely love it. I soak that shit in, think they are the nicest people. You may think I’m gullible, well I do think you are arrogant. All they are looking for is to make a person smile, actually I have had multiple people say exactly that to me to prove it. Sure, I get hoot and hollered at from time-to-time, but more often I find locals just want to have a conversation. I probably have at least one person hanging out in the downtown area say at least something to me on a daily bases. But it is almost always some form of, “how are you today?” Or, “you’re beautiful.” Or surprisingly often, “I like your shirt.” To put this into better context, I am almost always wearing a band shirt, so it is not at all in a sexual way. So take that stick out of your backside and say hello back for once. Stop being so judgmental and treat Brantford locals like actually human beings.
So much for receptionists
Stupid me managed to pay OSAP when I was trying to pay my tuition this summer before school, I added the wrong payee while doing it online. Which is funny because at that point I had my loans all paid off from the previous year, and had yet to receive my loans for the next semester, so I literally paid my loans off before I even got them. Great. Then it was time to call around and figure out what I do about it. I kid you not, it took me HOURS to find a human being to talk on the phone with. I called OSAP itself, I called Service Laurier, and I called my bank. All of which resulted in me screaming at their automatic messages, “CAN I PLEASE TALK TO A REAL PERSON?!” So, so frustrating. The worst part is, their automatic messages take so much time to cover the simplest of things that could easily be found on their website, or said in one sentence if someone picked up the damn phone for a second. I hate how technological advances are taking away jobs, but when they make things more inconvenient? This makes no sense to me. So companies, please, for the sake of god hire your receptionists back.
Instead of ranting about the idiotic events of life, let us briefly cover the idiotic people that we all know too well.
The blonde (th-əəblônd), n. a person that has the ability to function their mouth and tongue in order to create words without their brain yet processing this action. Such words are likely to drag at the end of each sentence, and occur in an extensive pause before the brain reboots and calculates the embarrassing error of judgment. In certain instances, the brain is unable to reboot. Also, air•head.adj. [1845-2015]
This term may no longer be used directly to marginalize people that have blonde hair, but the people that do fall upon the actions of this dictionary definition refer to these as “blonde moments”. “Blonde moments” result in laughter of peers, at many times disaster, and are typically of greater humor when such person does indeed have blonde hair.
The Musc•leHead (th-ûhmûhs-ûh-l həd), n. a person that is otherwise unable to function properly in society for the sole purpose of having to work out all the time. Such a person’s desire out of life is to look as lumpy and hard as physically possible. This desire replaces the normal human train of thought, and results in lack of logic and common sense. Also, lift•is•life. v. [1975-2015]
This term does not refer to all persons that work out, but only the ones that suffer from the need to live directly for nothing but working out. The following symptoms in such persons may occur: continuously asking, “do you even lift bro?” Not being able to reach a vocabulary outside of workout-related words. Substituting a life partner for selfies of oneself flexing in the mirror; these are typically taped around such person’s room and to a body pillow that such person sleeps with at night.
The Teen•ag•er (th-ûhtəən-əy-jər), n. a person that has the ability to judge every situation in life perfectly, without error. Typically, such persons remark to authority figures with attitude, but always in the form of an absolute correct statement. Also, know•it•all. adj. [1923-2015]
This term refers to adolescents between the ages of 13 and 18, although it is very common for this persona to continue in persons that still live with their mother after the age of 30. Although studies are being pursued into where this great amount of knowledge has been coming from, results are showing inconclusive reports.
The Meat Head (th-ûhməəthəd) n. a person that functions with the replacement of a brain, for a thick cut of meat. Typically, it is a lean red meat and functions otherwise incompetent compared to that of a normal brain. Meat does continue to allow the body to function properly, but logic is otherwise impossible when suffering from meat for a brain. Also, stupid•person. adj. [1894-2015]
This term is seen often throughout the twenty first century, and there is little us brain humans are able to do about it. We can only feel pity for these persons that lack a functioning brain, and shall excuse their behaviour for the result of a meat lump.
The many roundabout fails
In my hometown of St. Jacobs, I live right near a small roundabout. It has only two lanes, each of which ends soon after taking one of the four possible exits. I have to use it in order to see many friends, including my boyfriend that live in the town of Elmira. Roundabouts suck. Period. Nobody knows how to use a roundabout, so I shall share a few of the many encounters that just do not make sense whether you know how to use a roundabout or not. Most recently, I was yielding in the right lane out of Elmira that runs directly into the St. Jacob’s exit. I look to make sure the coast is clear to watch an older lady in the outside lane come to a complete stop in the middle of the roundabout in order to let me in. Seriously? Like, I couldn’t even get mad at her because her screw up was out of good intentions. Darn. So I went on my way, and prayed this poor lady doesn’t get herself rear-ended in the near future. I have also witnessed some stupid roundabout screw ups that were definitely with the opposite of intentions. Such as the person that decided to change lanes in the middle of a roundabout to almost completely sideswipe my car when I attempted to enter the roundabout, that’s always fun. The best part is, switching from the inner lane to the outer lane during a roundabout is not only illegal, but completely pointless because that lane ends hardly ten meters after you exit the roundabout anyways. But the very worst was the day I looked in my rear view mirror after exiting the roundabout to see a person going in the absolute wrong direction. Oh shit. Thank goodness this isn’t a very busy roundabout outside of rush-hour.
The local nut
Bouncing off this stupid driver topic, I have a Brantford-related story of pure ignorance as well. Can you believe it? After picking up a few things from Walmart with my boyfriend, we headed back towards my place. I was in the passenger seat, minding my own business looking out the window when a vehicle made a left turn exiting a parking lot and almost completely sideswiped us heading down King George Road. Had my boyfriend not changed lanes to the right as quickly as he had, we would have been in the hospital instead of driving beside the idiot. We of course flipped him the bird, sped up to get back in the lane we needed to be in and were on our way. All of the sudden I look to my right and see this guy driving up right beside us absolutely losing his mind. He rolled down his window, was screaming and waving us to pull over and fight him. Really? This dude was well into his thirties, freaking out like a maniac because we gave him the finger for almost killing us. So, he thinks of a better idea over his crazy-man scene, and grabbed some garbage out of his car to throw at our windshield. Yet again, trying to kill us. Fabulous. I tried to get his license plate down but my boyfriend sped up so fast to get away from him I missed the last number, and the police could not figure it out when we called them. In other words, this guy in still out on the road somewhere with no percussions. So watch out Brantford, the roads are not safe.
It’s raining babies
As many of you may know, there are a lot of young parents here in Brantford. I find it is usually the young mothers I see pushing the strollers around town, without the fathers in sight, but this day was different. I was walking downtown, from my place to Grand River Hall, a short five minute walk if that. It was a pretty crappy day, there was a nippy wind chill and it was spitting rain. In front of me I see a man pushing a stroller, the first thing I think is, why doesn’t he have the stroller cover up? Not considering having a rain guard over it, but instead, this man had the stroller’s cover tied back, child sprawled out in the rain, wearing pants and a little tee-shirt. What in the name of sanity was going through this dude’s head? I gave him the dirtiest look I have given a person in a solid amount of time. But to my great surprise, I turn the corner to alley way in between Williams and the Therapy Lounge to see MULTIPLE men with babies just chilling out in the rain. It was some sort of daddy-day-off while stuck with the kid in the rain day. I could seriously not believe my eyes. First of all, why do you even have your babies outside while it is raining out? Second of all,why are these children not properly dressed or covered? And third of all, why is this seen as a normal thing to do by not one, but multiple fathers? Finally, I understood why I see young Brantford mothers pushing the stroller of their babies alone through the streets all the time, the fathers are obviously incompetent.
The fairy-tale feminist
Earlier this school year I found myself writing an article on actress, Emma Watson’s speech to the United Nations. I went into it wanting to praise her of course, but ended up taking a different angle and pursued where I believed she may have been slightly hypocritical, and where she hadn’t followed through on her statements. All in all, I still looked up to her as a role model on the controversial topic of feminism, up until last week at least. It was a regular day, avoiding my responsibilities by scrolling through my Facebook feed, but what I fell upon took me completely aback. Emma Watson will be casted as Belle in the remake of the fairy-tale story, Beauty and the Beast. You have got to be freaking kidding me! I honestly thought it was a joke until I read enough articles quoting her excitement over the whole ordeal to realize this was actually happening. So, we have the Goodwill Ambassador for UN Women, a role model for girls across the world in feminism, playing a role that portrays physical and emotional abuse as a necessary components in a happy relationship. Well that is just great. Totally makes sense to me…
Shhh, someone will just step on it later
This past Friday night I danced the night away at a club called Zaphod Beeblebrox in Ottawa with friends while on a journalism conference. By the time we made it near the stage of the dance floor the place was pretty packed; not sardines type of packed, but I found myself getting bumped into by the odd drunk losing their balance during a super cool move. (Or wait, was that me?) Anyways in the heat of my killer moves I hear a shatter come from my left. I look over to see a girl staring down at the glass she had dropped, then move quickly to pick it up so no one would step on it. NOT. She instead, kicks the chunks of glass behind her, puts her index finger up to her mouth as she shushes her friends and giggles. IS THIS REAL LIFE? After of course informing her of her idiotic decision making skills, a friend and I picked the glass up before the group close behind her stepped on it. Now, I understand we all make stupid choices while under the influence, but really? How on earth does one think, it’s just a sharp object that will impale someone’s foot later, no big deal? This severe disappointment had me once again questioning the common sense of the advanced species of human beings.
Sorry, didn’t see your face hit the asphalt there
On my way home from a busy shopping centre during the heart of the Christmas havoc I am stopped at a red light, contemplating Christmas spirit. Here I see a crowd of people crossing the road to my left, one of which biking ahead. Out of nowhere this guy on the bike flies over his handles head-first into the road. I have no idea how it happened, but I instantly wanted to go make sure he was okay, unable to do so sitting at the intersection in my vehicle. Then I watch the crowd of people behind proceed to walk casually by him without hesitation, as he lays flat on the ground. I swear Mama Brit was ready to march out there to slap those idiot bystanders upside their heads. Luckily the man shook it off and walked his bike to the sidewalk before my light turned green, but seriously? Come on people it was the season of giving and all you had to do was ask a simple, is your face okay? Or literally lend a helping hand for two seconds to help the poor man up. That day, I realized that there is no Christmas spirit, or if there is, it is the spiriting of metaphorically shitting on everyone around you. Cool, Merry I hate the world.