Hate Parade: Lack of Information

You know what's fun? When stores and shops and restaurants don't post their hours of operation. Oh wait, did I say "fun"? Whoops, I meant "more fucking annoying than cab drivers who ask you where you are going and then act all pissy when you mention a place that isn't five blocks away." Oh sorry, pal, sorry I ruined your fucking day by asking you to do your job. Don't want to drive me somewhere in exchange for money? Don't be a cab driver. Be a truck driver. Or a van driver. Go re-stone patios or something. No one will ask you to drive them anywhere if you have a patio to fix. Although a coworker might. And what then, shithead? Are you going to give him the same attitude that you gave me because he's politely asking you to take him to buy a sandwich from the Deli? Yeah, exactly. Stop being a fucking baby. It's Brooklyn, not fucking Guam.

Believe it or not, searching for, and subsequently being unable to find store hours posted on a business' website happens more often than you would think. And I would love for someone to explain to me why websites omit store hours? Especially restaurants. Why can't you tell me what time you and close? It will make me want to go there and give you money for some food. But seeing that you don't have the hours listed, if I have to go there and I find out it's closed, I will never go back, and I might even burn the building down not recommend your place of business for having wasted my oh-so-precious time. I could have been home watching reruns of the Sopranos on A&E and hating every minute of it because they do a JV job at dubbing the swear words. Really, "mother-trucker"? Nope, sorry. No such thing. Nice try though, Associate Editor, but you should be ashamed of yourself. Personally, if I'm Mr. Website Designer, I throw in an "hours of operation" tab or something, just to avoid the inevitable a devastating inferno conflict.

Yesterday, I was trying to find out the hours of a coffee place near my office. Why, you ask? Why is of no importance to you. Maybe I am meeting with a very rich and powerful Hollywood agent who wants me to star in the upcoming three-quel to the Hanks/Spielberg mini-series...eh...series-es about World War II, and he wants to meet in a very pedestrian place because otherwise he would be spotted by paparazzi and our cover would be BLOWN. And obviously, when I went on the website for the coffee place, it had nothing informative on it. All I could find were reviews written by a bunch of clowns who were complaining about the bitterness of the dark roast and the quality of the sugar. First of all, what planet am I on? Is sugar now being sold in grades like gasoline? If so, December 21st of this year can't come quick enough, because this planet needs one big giant reset. Secondly, who spends their time reviewing coffee shops? It's a fucking coffee shop! Were you really expecting to have a cathartic experience when you walked into one of the seventeen thousands cafes in Manhattan? If so, you might as well walk in front of a cross-town bus, because you are going to be letdown by everything ever for the rest of your life. Third, post your fucking hours.

I don't like having to search for simple information on the internet. It really eats into the time I could be spending reading op-eds about the Yankees AAA pitchers. And I need my AAA scouting reports, otherwise I'll have nothing to talk about with Spielberg's agent while we're enduring that weird part of a meeting between getting down to business and waiting for our unleaded sugar coffee. What else am I supposed to talk about? Politics? War? Love? Who am I, your over-sensitive friend who tells all of the girls he dates everything about himself on the first date and then moans when they never call him again? No, I'm not. So just let me know what fucking time you're open until, okay? Thanks.