the key to anger management

Unlike most post-vacation trauma, my re-absorption into the daily grind was pretty painless this time.  i’ve maintained a remarkable mellow state of mind, despite flights and airports and stupid, cranky travel people all around me.  My daughter noticed that i’m substantially less irritable.

That was until i made a trek to my pool earlier this week.  The pool is a nice place to just vegetate, when not infested with the Yappy Broads, or the Whiney Family.  Returning from an easy bike ride after work, my bike buddy and i noted that the pool was deserted, and it might be a good time for a splash.

Changing quickly, we walked the short distance down the road, and i put my key in the door.  The lock didn’t turn.  Trying several more times, i jiggled the knob* to no avail.

daisyfae:  Those motherfuckers have changed the lock while i was gone!  Son of a fucking geriatric bitch, they’ve changed the locks without notice!

i went off, in a big way.  Ranting about the Pool Nazis, part of the Condo Association board that frequently gets on my nerves, i was infuriated that they could change the locks without notice, or providing new keys.  Given the control tactics executed over parking and using the proper color of stain on exterior decks, it shouldn’t have surprised me.  The pool had been far more crowded this year, and perhaps they had decided keys had been leaked to the unwashed masses.

Not taking this well, i decided we were going to climb the fence and have a swim anyway.  Sending my bike buddy over the spiked wrought iron fence first**, i held his beer as he hoisted himself over the top, and climbed down the other side.  He was able to go through the clubhouse building, and let me in the front.

Still angry, we had a nice splash in the pool, while i continued to spew vile commentary about the uptight pig-fuckers that manage the association.  Spitting beer into the water, it felt good to defile it.  Oh, the angry phone call the bastards would get first thing Friday morning!  As i ranted and splashed, a couple of teenagers came through the door.  Apparently they’d been issued new keys. 


Shortly thereafter, one of the elderfucks also came through the door.  This is the guy i think is in charge of the non-existent newsletter – which hasn’t been distributed since his Radio Shack TRS-80 computer went on the fritz about a year ago.  Wasting no time, i confronted him as politely as i could.

daisyfae:  When did they change the lock for the clubhouse?  My key no longer works.

Elderfuck [looking confused]:  I don’t know.  I had to get a new key a few weeks ago because I’d lost mine.  I hadn’t heard about the locks being changed.

Still cranky, we finished up the swim and headed out.  As i left, i decided to try the lock once more.  It worked perfectly.

Oops.  Never mind…

* No.  Not like that.

** Because he has longer legs.  And i’m not stupid, even when enraged…

Calling tech support

On the road still again.  Tonight?  In a major city that might be the capital of a large North American country.  Staying in an upscale hotel, that might be somehow related to a skanky celebu-tard known to appear in night-vision pornography. 

You’d think they could get their fucking internet to work…

i called the front desk, after attempting to connect for over an hour with an intermittent wireless connection.  Front desk clerk helpfully handed me off to the tech support line for their internet provider.  In Bangalore.  A wonderfully helpful technician, who quickly realized that i was not an imbecile, suggested i call the front desk and ask for a wireless bridge to get a stronger signal.

Without screaming, i did so, and the front desk clerk helpfully offered to have a bridge sent to my room.

Smiling sweetly as the bellman delivered the bridge – 30 minutes later – i was able to get a box full of random wires and electronic gonads connected properly.  And yet was still unable to get a signal that stayed connected for more than 20 seconds at a time.

Inspired by two women of class and restraint (annie and awalkabout) at no time did i scream SUCK MY DISEASE-RIDDLED SCROTAL SACK, YOU WORTHLESS TECHNO-BAGS OF SHIT!  Although i thought about it several times.  Despite the fact that i have been awake since 3:45 am in order to catch a flight at 6:00 am to get to a meeting by 8:30 am that i don’t really need to attend, i’m trying to do a better job with my anger management than i did yesterday morning.

Instead?  i took some of my frustrations out on a wooden coat hanger in the closet.  One of those nice ones that can actually be removed from the rod… and i wrenched the metal crossbar from the wood.  And being a good little nerd-ette, i have managed to fashion a rather nifty antenna from it. 

Weak, but stable signal.

Geeks rock. 

The Hilton in Tysons Corner, Virginia?  Not so much.