I gently sing into their phones microphone while they video. Since I have the tonal and vocal abilities of a congested rhinoceros, this eventually results in them turning around to ask me to lower my voice, to which I politely respond by punching them smack in the face. This doesn't get them to stop, but boy does it feel good.
We were in Miami just last week, after returning from a cruise. I can verify that Miami is a VERY LOUD place, and that the chief entertainment seems to be racing cars up and down S. Miami Avenue. And not just the drug-dealer-expensive cars, but normal-tax-payer cars as well.
As a side note: Philadelphia fans - of any sport - are the worst humans alive. This is a proven medical fact.
Yes. I can attest to that, as well, though I only play a doctor when it’s convenient for me. Medically speaking, Philadelphian sports fans are “asswipes.” Look it up.
I apologize for bringing up Mr. T. But the USA has become much more rude since President Rude shoved his portly self into national politics in 2016. Many Americans (and in nice places like Iowa, no less) now believe that rudeness equals honesty and “being real”. So perhaps I’m one of those dishonest fake liberals (and in a rude place like New York, no less).
So maybe I shouldn’t call President Rude “portly”.
But I just don’t want him to get stuck in the trap doors that dear Joe Biden put everywhere in the White House and the West Wing.
You are so right! We do have a rudeness problem. Put me in coach! I'm ready to play the press the button game!!! Not only at sports events, but also in theaters when people refused to remove their hats (or big heads)! And that person who pushed in front of me in the short check out line. I don't care if they only have 15 minutes for lunch and are eating it as they pay!! I WAS HERE FIRST! And that person who won't get out of the way on the road, you know the one who can barely walk? I'm late already! Gimme that button, please, gimme gimme gimme!
I'm from Chicago- the breakfast blend of Midwestern Manners and Go-F Yourself. The official tagline is, "Come for the food- stay because you got murdered!" Growing up in the NW suburbs, going downtown on the weekend was an opportunity to regale our classmates with an "I was almost murdered story" at school on Monday. There was nothing more disappointing than going to the city and nothing crazy happening. Meh. Chicagoans are super good neighbors, have the best manners, will always offer you a snack and are very funny...but may also kill you! The bright side of this is I have been to a lot of big cities in the world with zero fear. One time when I was almost mugged in another big city, I said, "do you have a gun?" he said "no" and I was like, "what is this amateur hour? Beat it!?" And he left!! I live in another state now and go home regularly to keep myself sharp and well fed.
Dave, now that they've outlawed vuvuzela horns in civilized sports like American football, soccer, baseball and political rallies, I've taken to bringing a small air horn to such events disguised as an inhaler. Works wonders in keeping sight lines open. Especially after shouting, "Dive! Dive!" Until it's confiscated.
Dave, don't get me started...again. Of course, the classic NY joke sums it all up. "Can you tell me how to get to Carnegie Hall or should I just go f**k myself?" This preemptive rudeness (not giving a New Yorker the chance to personally tell you to go f**k yourself) is part of what I see as a new variety of discourtesy: passive-aggressive rudeness. Grocery stores, especially, appear to be centers of this contagion. Certainly the self-checkout lanes are hot spots but, the only two lanes left with human-like cashiers now in every grocery store in the lower 48, is where the rudeness really meets the road. Invariably one is occupied by one of those delivery services. The remaining aisle just as invariably has someone in front of you who "forgot the Kombucha and I'll be back in say...half an hour." So there you are, stuck in purgatory trying to make small talk with a young (or very old) person about how things, like grocery checkout isn't what it used to be. Wouldn't be so bad if you hadn't just run the gauntlet of several ankle-biters, apparently out on furlough, who thought ramming their kiddie karts into your lower leg was the funniest thing ever. At least until you tell them you would eat their face if they tried that stunt again. Then, of course, there are those who set up housekeeping in the middle of the aisles, inevitably having a heated phone conversation about whether BOGO is a better deal than BOGOHO. Don't get me started...again.
Re rule 3 on the rudeness graph: If you’re in "Philly”, and find yourself (through no fault of your own) at a presidential press conference, you should never scream out “Hey ya orange maroon-what da f**k are ya doin’ wit ya damn HANDS?!!” Instead, one should say, “Sir! Sir! May I inquire what imaginary objects you are pumping up and down with your official fists?”
The phones. So very much rudeness associated with these *things*. Back in my day phones stayed put. In a house, in a glass box by the road, in a place of business....no one was holding a Princess Push Button phone over their heads letting others listen to the show, which was held IN PUBLIC, a space once rife with courtesy rules! There was a time when one could hush a loud chatterbox in a theater and they would!
I have possessed for many years the solution to several of these problems. Cartoon scientists long ago discovered big red boxing gloves attached to boingy-boingy springs. These red revengers frequently pop out and wallop cartoons in the face, causing stars and tweetybirds to circle the punchee's head. Such spring-loaded boxing gloves should be installed in every cellphone. They can be activated at any time by a credentialed Punch Monitor (me). Presto. And you're welcome, world.
I gently sing into their phones microphone while they video. Since I have the tonal and vocal abilities of a congested rhinoceros, this eventually results in them turning around to ask me to lower my voice, to which I politely respond by punching them smack in the face. This doesn't get them to stop, but boy does it feel good.
As a (maybe) rude New Jerseyite, I find this so on point and of course, hilarious.
We were in Miami just last week, after returning from a cruise. I can verify that Miami is a VERY LOUD place, and that the chief entertainment seems to be racing cars up and down S. Miami Avenue. And not just the drug-dealer-expensive cars, but normal-tax-payer cars as well.
As a side note: Philadelphia fans - of any sport - are the worst humans alive. This is a proven medical fact.
Yes. I can attest to that, as well, though I only play a doctor when it’s convenient for me. Medically speaking, Philadelphian sports fans are “asswipes.” Look it up.
I apologize for bringing up Mr. T. But the USA has become much more rude since President Rude shoved his portly self into national politics in 2016. Many Americans (and in nice places like Iowa, no less) now believe that rudeness equals honesty and “being real”. So perhaps I’m one of those dishonest fake liberals (and in a rude place like New York, no less).
So maybe I shouldn’t call President Rude “portly”.
But I just don’t want him to get stuck in the trap doors that dear Joe Biden put everywhere in the White House and the West Wing.
I generally just put a tack on their seat. They will eventually sit down.
Then they’ll get the point.
Great idea! I find that a roofing nail is called for from time to time.
Just go full electric drill. The sort they use for subways.
Love it - never thought of that. But the seats flip up?
Do not actually put a tack on someone’s seat!
It's tack-tless
You are so right! We do have a rudeness problem. Put me in coach! I'm ready to play the press the button game!!! Not only at sports events, but also in theaters when people refused to remove their hats (or big heads)! And that person who pushed in front of me in the short check out line. I don't care if they only have 15 minutes for lunch and are eating it as they pay!! I WAS HERE FIRST! And that person who won't get out of the way on the road, you know the one who can barely walk? I'm late already! Gimme that button, please, gimme gimme gimme!
I hate the people who either stand up the entire concert or sit down and hold their phones above their heads videoing every song.
But a MUSIC concert is about dancing swaying etc to your songs!!
I'm from Chicago- the breakfast blend of Midwestern Manners and Go-F Yourself. The official tagline is, "Come for the food- stay because you got murdered!" Growing up in the NW suburbs, going downtown on the weekend was an opportunity to regale our classmates with an "I was almost murdered story" at school on Monday. There was nothing more disappointing than going to the city and nothing crazy happening. Meh. Chicagoans are super good neighbors, have the best manners, will always offer you a snack and are very funny...but may also kill you! The bright side of this is I have been to a lot of big cities in the world with zero fear. One time when I was almost mugged in another big city, I said, "do you have a gun?" he said "no" and I was like, "what is this amateur hour? Beat it!?" And he left!! I live in another state now and go home regularly to keep myself sharp and well fed.
Dave, now that they've outlawed vuvuzela horns in civilized sports like American football, soccer, baseball and political rallies, I've taken to bringing a small air horn to such events disguised as an inhaler. Works wonders in keeping sight lines open. Especially after shouting, "Dive! Dive!" Until it's confiscated.
😆
Dave, don't get me started...again. Of course, the classic NY joke sums it all up. "Can you tell me how to get to Carnegie Hall or should I just go f**k myself?" This preemptive rudeness (not giving a New Yorker the chance to personally tell you to go f**k yourself) is part of what I see as a new variety of discourtesy: passive-aggressive rudeness. Grocery stores, especially, appear to be centers of this contagion. Certainly the self-checkout lanes are hot spots but, the only two lanes left with human-like cashiers now in every grocery store in the lower 48, is where the rudeness really meets the road. Invariably one is occupied by one of those delivery services. The remaining aisle just as invariably has someone in front of you who "forgot the Kombucha and I'll be back in say...half an hour." So there you are, stuck in purgatory trying to make small talk with a young (or very old) person about how things, like grocery checkout isn't what it used to be. Wouldn't be so bad if you hadn't just run the gauntlet of several ankle-biters, apparently out on furlough, who thought ramming their kiddie karts into your lower leg was the funniest thing ever. At least until you tell them you would eat their face if they tried that stunt again. Then, of course, there are those who set up housekeeping in the middle of the aisles, inevitably having a heated phone conversation about whether BOGO is a better deal than BOGOHO. Don't get me started...again.
Re rule 3 on the rudeness graph: If you’re in "Philly”, and find yourself (through no fault of your own) at a presidential press conference, you should never scream out “Hey ya orange maroon-what da f**k are ya doin’ wit ya damn HANDS?!!” Instead, one should say, “Sir! Sir! May I inquire what imaginary objects you are pumping up and down with your official fists?”
New York needs to up its game.
The phones. So very much rudeness associated with these *things*. Back in my day phones stayed put. In a house, in a glass box by the road, in a place of business....no one was holding a Princess Push Button phone over their heads letting others listen to the show, which was held IN PUBLIC, a space once rife with courtesy rules! There was a time when one could hush a loud chatterbox in a theater and they would!
I have possessed for many years the solution to several of these problems. Cartoon scientists long ago discovered big red boxing gloves attached to boingy-boingy springs. These red revengers frequently pop out and wallop cartoons in the face, causing stars and tweetybirds to circle the punchee's head. Such spring-loaded boxing gloves should be installed in every cellphone. They can be activated at any time by a credentialed Punch Monitor (me). Presto. And you're welcome, world.
After the trap door, Big Fans could also possibly be converted to Soylent Green, but I’m afraid it would be toxic.
I’m shocked Miami took the title from Philadelphia. When has Miami ever pelted Santa with snow balls? 8 balls sure but not snow balls!!!