Why?
I don't understand why people have to be such assholes.
For one thing, why is it that the people who aren't following the traffic laws are always the ones who flip you off? On my way home from a longass day, I'm driving on this overpass (which goes into a construction zone) and the speed limit goes from 60 on one side of the bridge to 40 mph as you're going over the bridge. The cop sets up at the bottom of the bridge all the time pegging people as they come flying over the bridge. So, I've learned to go 40 to try to avoid that ticket. Well, also on this bridge, it goes from two lanes down to one. The right lane stays and the left has to merge into the right lane. Simple, right? Apparently not. A convoy of work trucks are going 60 over the hill in the left lane. Be my guest. You can go be trooper bait. Then, some little hussy comes flying up behind me. By the time she gets to me, the lanes have merged into one. She lays on the horn at me for being in the lane going 40, when she clearly doesn't have the right of way and is clearly speeding. Of course, you guessed it: the middle finger comes out of the window so there is no mistaking or missing it.
Nice. You're the one breaking at least two traffic laws and you're going to flip me off. I'm sure your mom would be proud.
*sigh*
Then, I get home and have some nasty email from a soccer grandma. *shaking my head* For about a year now, I've been the volunteer team manager for Hot Rod's academy soccer team. I don't get anything for doing it. Ok, that isn't true. I get headaches and shit from people. But, I get no discount, no monetary incentive, nada for doing it. It is purely volunteer. So, I get really fed up with people constantly bitching about every little effing thing. Part of the job is collecting money for team fees. It isn't fun as I have to harass people - sometimes for months - to get them to pay. Then, I have to keep up with who paid, what amount they paid, what they owe, etc. I get the headache of signing the team up for leagues, ordering the uniforms, paying the coaches. I also get to deal with the crap from the parents when another parent criticized their little Johnny, who is so incredibly talented, they are shocked that someone wouldn't bow down to kiss his little feet for gracing our soccer pitch with his presence.
It is the 14th of the month and more than half of the parents still haven't paid. So, I send an email out asking people to pay and telling them dues are past due. Wouldn't it be rational to expect that the club fees are due at the beginning of the month? Why would someone assume anything else? I got a nasty email from a grandma that she didn't know when the fees were due and how I should invoice people and tell them what they owe and when. Well, WTF do you think I've been doing when I send out individual emails to the parents on the first of the month informing them that you owe x number of dollars and it is due? Am I missing something? Am I leaving something out? Are you that fucking stupid that I have to spell it all out? Well, I guess I do if your little Johnny gets all his smarts from you. That explains why he has that stupid fucking lost look on the soccer pitch every week. It is an inherited tendency. I also see where his mom gets her bitchiness from now, too. It comes honestly from her mother.
*taking deep breaths*
Worst part is that I'm just barely getting started. I'm tired of dealing with smelly parents who show up at game time, if they show up at all, and then get their stinky panties in a wad over whatever has pissed them off. I'm tired of taking shit for the coaches - who get paid to coach - from the parents because the coach did something to piss them off. Tell him yourself. And, while you're at it, take these indoor player cards and ya'll decide whose ass to shove them up.
I'm tired of the coaches bitching to me because the players don't show up early. What do you want me to do? I give them a schedule. I tell them to show up 20-30 minutes early. You're the one who starts little Johnny when he shows up at game time over the kids who showed up in time to warm up. You guys are the ones who "forget" that we have a game and then wonder why we can't keep players. Little wonder the players keep going to other clubs. If we want a rec level coach dad to coach the team, we'll go play rec. And, while we're on that, my fucking husband is more of a coach than you will ever be. He cares more and when he coaches, he puts more time into it than the 10 minutes you've spent thinking about it as you're pulling up into the parking lot.
I've got enough crap in my life to deal with. I don't need this shit.
*putting away the soap box* I'm sure I'll regret this blog post in 10 minutes.
*tick, tick tick*
Nope, I don't guess I will. Just wish I had the testicles to tell this to the parents and coaches myself instead of just ranting about it on the Internet.
For one thing, why is it that the people who aren't following the traffic laws are always the ones who flip you off? On my way home from a longass day, I'm driving on this overpass (which goes into a construction zone) and the speed limit goes from 60 on one side of the bridge to 40 mph as you're going over the bridge. The cop sets up at the bottom of the bridge all the time pegging people as they come flying over the bridge. So, I've learned to go 40 to try to avoid that ticket. Well, also on this bridge, it goes from two lanes down to one. The right lane stays and the left has to merge into the right lane. Simple, right? Apparently not. A convoy of work trucks are going 60 over the hill in the left lane. Be my guest. You can go be trooper bait. Then, some little hussy comes flying up behind me. By the time she gets to me, the lanes have merged into one. She lays on the horn at me for being in the lane going 40, when she clearly doesn't have the right of way and is clearly speeding. Of course, you guessed it: the middle finger comes out of the window so there is no mistaking or missing it.
Nice. You're the one breaking at least two traffic laws and you're going to flip me off. I'm sure your mom would be proud.
*sigh*
Then, I get home and have some nasty email from a soccer grandma. *shaking my head* For about a year now, I've been the volunteer team manager for Hot Rod's academy soccer team. I don't get anything for doing it. Ok, that isn't true. I get headaches and shit from people. But, I get no discount, no monetary incentive, nada for doing it. It is purely volunteer. So, I get really fed up with people constantly bitching about every little effing thing. Part of the job is collecting money for team fees. It isn't fun as I have to harass people - sometimes for months - to get them to pay. Then, I have to keep up with who paid, what amount they paid, what they owe, etc. I get the headache of signing the team up for leagues, ordering the uniforms, paying the coaches. I also get to deal with the crap from the parents when another parent criticized their little Johnny, who is so incredibly talented, they are shocked that someone wouldn't bow down to kiss his little feet for gracing our soccer pitch with his presence.
It is the 14th of the month and more than half of the parents still haven't paid. So, I send an email out asking people to pay and telling them dues are past due. Wouldn't it be rational to expect that the club fees are due at the beginning of the month? Why would someone assume anything else? I got a nasty email from a grandma that she didn't know when the fees were due and how I should invoice people and tell them what they owe and when. Well, WTF do you think I've been doing when I send out individual emails to the parents on the first of the month informing them that you owe x number of dollars and it is due? Am I missing something? Am I leaving something out? Are you that fucking stupid that I have to spell it all out? Well, I guess I do if your little Johnny gets all his smarts from you. That explains why he has that stupid fucking lost look on the soccer pitch every week. It is an inherited tendency. I also see where his mom gets her bitchiness from now, too. It comes honestly from her mother.
*taking deep breaths*
Worst part is that I'm just barely getting started. I'm tired of dealing with smelly parents who show up at game time, if they show up at all, and then get their stinky panties in a wad over whatever has pissed them off. I'm tired of taking shit for the coaches - who get paid to coach - from the parents because the coach did something to piss them off. Tell him yourself. And, while you're at it, take these indoor player cards and ya'll decide whose ass to shove them up.
I'm tired of the coaches bitching to me because the players don't show up early. What do you want me to do? I give them a schedule. I tell them to show up 20-30 minutes early. You're the one who starts little Johnny when he shows up at game time over the kids who showed up in time to warm up. You guys are the ones who "forget" that we have a game and then wonder why we can't keep players. Little wonder the players keep going to other clubs. If we want a rec level coach dad to coach the team, we'll go play rec. And, while we're on that, my fucking husband is more of a coach than you will ever be. He cares more and when he coaches, he puts more time into it than the 10 minutes you've spent thinking about it as you're pulling up into the parking lot.
I've got enough crap in my life to deal with. I don't need this shit.
*putting away the soap box* I'm sure I'll regret this blog post in 10 minutes.
*tick, tick tick*
Nope, I don't guess I will. Just wish I had the testicles to tell this to the parents and coaches myself instead of just ranting about it on the Internet.
1 Comments:
At 9:17 PM, August 14, 2008, Gadfly said…
Now you know why I would make a lousy soccer mom.
I would have just returned the dipshit's finger. Let her take the ticket and the finger.
My response to the email would likely have made the local paper o_O
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