Just in case you missed it, we began with Foto Friday #1 last week. Foto Friday provides an easy way for Listen To Me Bitch readers to contribute by simply commenting on the posted photo taken by one of our contributors.

If you would like to contribute a photo or do some bitching of your own on Listen to Me Bitch, you can find more information here.

This week’s photo was taken of a gas pump credit card reader, with a sticker that should not be necessary because those people who are dumb enough to require it should have to fave the embarrassment of going inside to ask why their card “isn’t working”

Oh, THATS why they put the picture of the card there...

Yes, I know stupid is spelled with a U and not two Os, but email scammers don’t and the post title was addressed to them. With that out of the way, I’m somewhat embarrassed to say that I have an AOL account. It’s my tether back to the 1990’s when I (along with everyone else) actually used AOL. Don’t worry though, i just keep the (now free) email address alive, but don’t actually use it or AOL for anything.

For years AOL sent out emails ad nauseam saying that any official correspondence from them will have a blue envelope icon in your inbox. The purpose was so that anyone who doesn’t have their head in the game when it comes to email scams would be able to easily spot fraudulent emails.  This never made any sense to me because in my experience, they’ve always been easy to spot, even for me a dumb kid of two Latin American immigrants. Nonetheless, there must be people who either don’t watch enough TV or spend too much time smoking something illegal that still can’t spot the scams.

Here’s an edited copy of the email I received with my comments in orange, hopefully it will provide people with a droplet of common sense.

I was originally worried about scammers using my tips to improve their email scams, but lets be honest, they won’t understand anyways. Let it be a guide of common sense things to look for (in an email that should seem like a scam to anyone with half a brain) before sending them your credit card or banking info.

Ciao,
Juan Luis

I present to you the first Listen To Me Bitch Foto Friday: every Friday, rain or shine we will present you with the photographic depiction of something we wanted to bitch about, but have decided to leave the bitching up to you.

I’ll post a picture every week complete with back story, and leave the bitching in your hands.

A friend and I uncovered this monstrosity while trying to grab a quick bite to eat at a restaurant in a local strip mall, click here to comment and tell us what you think.

What Tipping Once Was
Once upon a time ago (in a decade I certainly don’t remember) tipping wasn’t a required part of daily life. If a waiter performed extremely well, a maitre d led you to an exceptional table, the delivery guy stacked the firewood instead of simply dumping it in a pile in your yard, or the garbage man took the extra can of refuse they received a tip for going above and beyond the normal call of duty.

Why The United States is Stupid
Nowadays in the United States, tipping has lost its true meaning. It is customary (no matter the service) to leave a tip for the waitstaff in a restaurant of approximately 15%, leaving more for exceptional service, or less for sub-par attention. This is stupid, while it allows restaurants pay the waitstaff a below minimum-wage, it defeats the whole purpose behind the “tip”. In most European countries, there is no expectation of a tip, rather it is awarded by choice as a way of saying “thank you” for a waitstaff that goes above and beyond the call of duty…you know, the way it should be!

Tipping Becomes a Shitshow
The other day I arrived downtown via train while it was raining outside. I walked through the outdoor station to the main entrance to get a taxi so that I could reach my final destination. The second I exited the door, I was bombarded by a series of presumably homeless people asking if I needed a cab. Caught off guard I replied yes and seconds later was led to the first cab in the taxi line (where there had been 15+ cabs waiting).

The cab was there, I  knew it was there, and I certainly didn’t need this guy’s help to get into a waiting cab. Then of course the inevitable came. I knew I would have to tip the guy for his unwanted, unneeded, and unappreciated “service”; but then became further annoyed when he said “come on man, make my new year” as if I was going to get into the cab without slipping him some cash.

Please don’t misunderstand, I have absolutely no issue with giving money to homeless people. In fact, I do it all the time. My issue lies in the fact that this gentleman acted like he did me a favor, when in fact he did me a disservice by delaying my departure from the train station thereby keeping me outside longer…in the rain.

This is just one example. In Europe and the USA alike, homless people often point you towards a parking space expecing compensation in return. Although I have seen this be helpful once or twice, 95% of the time it’s been useless. You’re traveling down the street looking for parking, you’ll find the spaces on the street with or without the homeless guy.

While I conceptually admire the fact that they are doing something for money rather than sitting on their asses with a cup begging for it, I would prefer they actually focused their energy on doing something potentially useful like selling newspapers or cleaning windshields, rather than essentially extorting money by making me fear for the well-being of my car while inside the restaurant if I don’t tip them.

I spent a great deal of time traveling this past month, and while waiting for various means of transport, I was inundated with people asking me for a cigarette. Maybe it’s the fact that I like to wear black (it’s the new black, get over it) or the fact that I might look like someone from a cigarette ad (they always use the cool and casual type). The truth is that I don’t smoke. I never have, and I’m proud to say I’ve never even taken one puff off of one of those things. However, I do respect peoples’ decision to smoke, so I’m not mean or condescending when I turn down their plea for something I really don’t have, it just makes them smug (smog?).

When I tell you, No, Sorry I don’t have a cigarette, don’t get all pissy and make a face like I just gave you the finger. It is not my fault you did not pick up another pack of cigarettes when you realized you were running low. It is also not my fault they cost almost $8.00/pack in this city. Additionally, making a face will NOT get you a cigarette from me, because I never had the damn thing in the first place.

Has anyone else had enough of all the stupid Digital Television stuff being advertised? From the federal government advertising the switch from analog to digital, to the infomercial style 3rd party commercials and news media portraying the DTV switch as being the upcoming apocalypse. For those of you who aren’t from the states, or are unfamiliar with this issue, the US Federal Communications Commission (FCC) has mandated that all  stations begin broadcasting using a digital frequency (instead of analogue) effective this coming February.

Most of the propaganda makes it seem like on a certain day in February in 2009, your TV will cease to function. Well I have news for you, in most cases it doesn’t mean anything. That’s right, it’s all a bunch of wasted energy, unless of course you actually watch broadcast television - no cable, no satellite.

I for one don’t know a single person who falls into that category. I’m sure that if I did, they would  have already heard enough about it and taken the proper precautions illustrated in the hilarious video below:

The most ironic thing, is that I have seen a plethora of infomercials, advertisements, and other marketing implements warning poor innocent Americans about the upcoming switch to digital on cable only stations, which means one of two things: either the guys buying ad space in marketing should be fired, or the company is trying to exploit people who don’t understand technology…

Jason

Recently I purchased a new watch and was shortly confronted by one of my least favorite questions: How much was it? What does it matter how much it was? Are you going to buy it for me? I guess not considering I already have it.

To be clear, I’m not talking about when your wife asks you how much something you spent a portion of the family’s fund’s on (because she has a right to ask…and in many cases a right to make you return it as well.) Nor am I talking about when your friend, the fellow watch aficionado asks because he likes it and actually would purchase one for himself depending on the price.

I’m talking about the nosey friend, the one who not so secretly want’s to know how much money you make, how much your “toys” cost, and whether you live on cash or credit.

Alright maybe that was a bit of a stretch, but seriously why don’t these people understand that it’s not any of their business how much the watch, the car, or the autographed picture of Adam West was.

The fact of the matter is that it’s only appropriate to ask “how much” in one of the following scenarios:

1. They’re your accountant or spouse
2. They would actually purchase said item
3. It’s a hot blond asking, and her interest in you is contingent upon the value of said item (in which case you should like, chances are she’s a stripper anyways)

That’s it, otherwise it doesn’t matter. The fact of the matter is the you purchased said item because you liked it, and could afford to justify the associated cost. So, I implore you, next time you’re tempted to ask “how much”, have a little class (I realize this is ironic due to the stripper comment above, just go with it) and just go google it instead of being blatantly nosey and potentially offensive.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone and felt really uncomfortable? Not because of what the person was saying, but because of how they were saying it to you? I’ve come to realize recently that I am a magnet for people with awkward conversation styles.

I can’t erase the memory of conversations past, but I hope that by writing this post I can put those of you that I have yet to meet on notice, thereby avoiding future awkwardness. If you fall into one of the three categories below, do both of us a favor and don’t talk to me:

1.) The Chatty Pee-er

I don’t know about you but when I go into the bathroom at work, I go in there for one reason and one reason only. What reason might that be? I’ll give you a hint, its not to talk to you.

When I’m standing at the urinal dancing with Little Jimmy, please don’t talk to me. Don’t look over at me, don’t attempt to shake my hand and for the love of god, don’t ask me if I’m “workin’ hard or hardly workin’.” I swear, all of the above have happened to me at least one time in the last year.

I’ve also been told by someone who I happened to see in the bathroom more than two times in the same day: “We’ve got to stop meetin’ like this. People are gonna start talkin’.” Huh? We must know very different people. The people who I know don’t watch the bathroom door all day to see who goes in and out, let alone think disturbing thoughts about what they do while inside.

I have also noticed what could be an evolution of the chatty pee-er. I was at the urinal today and a man next to me was clicking away at his Blackberry. While I admire his dexterity, I can’t help but feel that he could’ve waited two minutes. I guess I shouldn’t complain. He could have used that hand to try to give me a high five or a noogie.

The men’s room to me is not a place to go to socialize or discuss world affairs. The men’s room to me is like prison: you go in, you don’t make eye contact with anyone, you don’t stay one second longer than you have to and then you leave.

2.) The Drill Sergeants

One of the things I really love about Americans is that for the most part we are very good about respecting personal space. Most of us have a certain invisible territory around us that we know it’s not cool to invade. Unfortunately, some people haven’t quite picked up on the way we do business here in America.

There are a certain group of people that feel the need to get right up in my grill when talking to me. Almost nose to nose, like they’re coming in for a big sloppy one. It wouldn’t be half bad if attractive people did this to me, but it’s always the people who I couldn’t find less appealing.

I know of a woman in particular who is a major offender. Every time she sees me and wants to engage me in conversation, I find myself behaving like a whipped dog — instinctively slinking backward. Smelling blood, she’ll come in for the kill, getting right up on me like a Parris Island drill instructor with vinegar breath; barking at me about the latest minutiae in her work life. Believe me, everything she says could have been said a few inches further away, or (since she decided to gargle with vinegar that morning) from the other side of the room.

If you feel like you must extend your sphere of influence and wander into my no fly zone, then please don’t talk to me.

3.) The Finishers

Is it too much to ask to be able to finish my own sentence? Apparently it is, since I seem to keep running into people that fall into this third category. Two of whom I actually worked with day to day.

The Finisher is hard-wired by evolution (or in the perfect image of the deity of your choice) to try to finish my sentences. They haven’t been programmed to finish them correctly, but they can’t stop themselves from giving it the old college try.

If you don’t know what I mean, I’ll give you an example:

Jim: “If you want to send an email, you will want to click this button that says…”
Person who shouldn’t be talking to me: “Delete”

As my example shows, The Finisher will insist on trying to complete the sentence that I started. I haven’t done any scientific testing on this but I would estimate that 99% of the time, The Finisher will guess the wrong ending to my sentence.

I don’t necessarily love surprises, but I won’t go out of my way to spoil something. If I miss the second half of a Lost season on television and have to wait for the DVD, I’ll try to avoid what happens in the finale until I can see it. To a much smaller degree, when I’m having a conversation with someone, I’ll try to let them finish their own sentence without spoiling it. Since I don’t know what they’re going to say, (and it’s freaking rude to do otherwise) I’ll let myself be surprised. I could always try to finish the season of Lost that I missed, but I’ll leave that to the professionals.

So there they are, the three top conversation offenders. I’m not naïve enough to think that I can actually get these people to stop talking to me, or that I could go through life without running into them. But I’m hoping that maybe one person at a time we can fight conversational discomfort. And if I can get a couple less annoying people to keep yammering at me, then its a big bonus.

Jim

Read more posts by Jim at HoagiesWithMyles.com

There has been a lot of press in the last 36 hours about Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich, who allegedly attempted to sell an Illinois seat in the United States Senate. The seat was left vacant as a result of the presidential election, leaving the loser governor with the responsibility of filling it.

This really isn’t much of a surprise. The people of Illinois all knew he would be going to jail, but we assumed it wouldn’t be until after his term in office, and nobody really knew what it would be for.

The real issue here that I want an answer to isn’t whether he is guilty, nor is it who will be appointed; the real issue is about those damn Open Road Tolling signs. You see while serving as governor, Blagojevich commissioned parallel road construction on all major Illinois highways. That means if there are two main roads leading south, he made sure both would be under construction at the same time, which is also true for travel to the north and west (there is a lake to the east). This increased both stress and aggravation in addition to travel times.

At the termination of the aforementioned construction, his first Pièce de résistance (before being arrested) was to christen each of those construction sites with this:

Better get out the blue paint...

I had always thought it must have been a huge waste of money to begin with, but now am left wondering how much it will cost the state of Illinois to change all of them, or if I’ll have to buy the paint and do it myself.

Tenemos un sin verguenza,

Juan Luis

A couple of weeks ago I changed the default account type here on Listen To Me Bitch allowing you all to become contributors should you so choose…and why wouldn’t you? God knows you must have something to bitch about, right? So what are you waiting for, sign up and read the posting guidelines today!

I apologize for the delay in putting this announcement out there, as well as the slower publishing of posts. (I’ve been out of the country) Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon and everything will be bigger, better, and bitchier than ever!

Jeremy