Finally, it has come at last! Throughout the course of the last year, there have been many people written about on this blog, from the fantastic and intelligent, to the dumb and idiotic. These awards, as voted on by you, the readers, will select who in fact are the “Idiots of the Year”, and the nominations will be based on only people I have written about. There are two categories, one for “National Level Idiot”, which would entail a celebrity or politician making a fool of his or herself, and the second is the “Local Level Idiot”, which would be for someone I have actually encountered and written about in one of my many “A Week in Review” columns. The polls and nominations are below, as well as links to the article they were mentioned in. Please take time to vote in the next few weeks, and the winner will be announced on December 31 along with the previous two awards, whose polling are currently ongoing!
“National Level” Idiot Award Nominations
“Local Level” Idiot Award
For these, they come from my “Week in Review” columns, so I will post what is relevant to the actual idiot in question, as opposed to the entire article. However, if you would like to read about everything else that was going on in my world at the time, feel free to click the link. The first one listed is the one that accidentally started it all!
Lastly, I must give out some kind of award after such an interesting week. Hmm, shall we name it “Idiot of the Week”? I would not have even had a candidate if it wasn’t for a stop at a Dunkin’ Donuts this afternoon. I go in to buy some coffee, and after ordering it and handing the lady behind the counter a gift card, she took it and looked at me. After briefly pausing, she asked, “Would you like to use this to buy the coffee?”. Sent into disillusionment, I had to think about my answer. Why else would I be giving it to you? I said “Yes” as nicely as I could before leaving the place disappointed…disappointed in thinking the human race still had a chance. I’m sure she is a bright girl, but today was not one of her finest moments. I keep telling myself that she just didn’t think, that she really is not that dumb, to keep my blood pressure from escalating. It is moments like this where I breathe a sigh of relief that the 2012 Apocalypse might be true after all. My question, if it is, why wait for 2012?
My Math for the Liberal Arts class is a very special class, and when I say special, I mean the students. I have never seen such an odd array of human beings all condensed into one classroom. I am not going to pick on anyone’s math ability, because mine is nothing to write home about itself, but sometimes these people ask questions that make me just want to get up and walk away. On Monday, I was sitting in my seat about five minutes before class was about to start, and the room was a little more than half full. The professor was sitting at his desk looking at the computer when a student in the front row raised his hand and asked, “Do we have class today?” I was trying to take a small nap but I could not help but open my eyes and look at the professor who was just as stunned as I was. Let’s see…half the class is already in their seats, formulas were written on the board, and the professor was in the room…do we have class today? Are you that stupid? I don’t think I have ever heard such a dumb question in my life (he gave the Dunkin’ Donuts girl from last week a run for her money). The professor angrily answered in his native African accent, “Yes, we have class today, why do you think we are sitting here?” because I guess he is tired of getting asked dumb questions. Two weeks ago, upon hearing a question, he replied, “Have you even been sitting in my class today?”. It is one thing to ask if you don’t understand something, but to ask an obvious question after he just finished explaining it confuses it for the rest of us. What I mean is, this guy asks about five questions a class (twice a week), and he can’t just come out and ask it, he has to explain his rationale. Every time he opens his mouth, I cover my ears, because I’m afraid I might actually think about what he is asking and confuse myself further. He is an oddball to say the least—he is a spittin’ image of one of the Darryl brothers from Newhart, and I’m sure his IQ is not far from theirs. It’s a shame, because I don’t even know anything about him. All I know is that he asks his dumb questions and has to get up and throw something out at least twice a class. Never a dull moment in Math 136…
The next morning (you will notice that most of these stories involve waitresses), we went to the Jukebox Diner on Sudley Road, which is their main highway. We knew there was going to be trouble when we walked in and saw that the eating area the size of a football field had only two tables taken, us being the third. There was also a sign on their front door reading “Training Mode” and that the official opening was not for a few weeks. Surprisingly, even in this stage, the food was excellent. However, once again, the service was just a little strange. Being that there were three waitresses working and only three tables, the one we had was watching us like a hawk. She kept coming over and talking to us, which would have been great, but this was the morning of the Premiere, and that is where our thoughts were. She kept telling me how the coffee was so good, even though I was on my second cup with no complaints. She then asked me, “How do you like the coffee?” I replied, “It’s very good.” She then went on to tell us that it is the same coffee they serve at the Ritz Carlton. Sure, lady. Someone just had fun with your very feeble mind when they told you that. Later on in
the conversation our breakfast, Jeff and I were trying to place her accent, because it did not sound regional. This is where the quote of the century occurs, and I sure hope you are sitting down. This is the quote that put the exclamation point on our trip. This endearing set of words will be handed down into posterity for generations to analyze. I asked this portly woman, “Were you born here?” She thought for a quick second before answering, “Well, I was born at a hospital.” It was right then and there that I knew I had to get the hell out of Virginia.
Maybe it is also time I added a “Scumbag of the Week” award to this blog, because if I did, then one of my non-paying customers would have won it this time around. I had an array of sports cards for sale, and this fat old man walks up to the table and picks up a baseball card that was marked $1. You understand? O-N-E D-O-L-L-A-R. One frickin’ dollar. One. Uno. He picked it up and studied it for literally ten minutes (I was timing him), turning it back and forth; reading, examining. Then he put it down and walked away. You would think the decision he had to make was going to sign his life away. Four hours later, right before we had to pack up, he pulled the same exact stunt, and walked away, again, without buying the card. I was in disbelief. I said a few choice words under my breath, and then said at a moderate volume, “Good, I don’t want your [expletive] dollar.” Maybe he heard me, maybe not, but I don’t care. Out of spite, I gave it to my friend’s neighbor’s eight-year-old son for free, figuring it would be better for him to get it for nothing than that old bastard for a dollar, just in case he wanted to come back a third time.
Lastly, the [second] “Idiot of the Week” award goes to a wonderful worker at the local Friendly’s restaurant. I walked in, wanting to buy a gift for a friend, and so I asked her, “Do you sell gift certificates?” She looked at me and said, “No, sorry.” Surprised and a little upset, I just responded, “Oh, okay.” and turned around to leave. It was then she stopped me by saying, “Wait, we sell gift cards. Let me get my manager.” It is all my fault, entirely. Next time I have to choose my words more carefully. The $7.50 an hour you are getting paid to be a moron does not entail that you actually have to think on the job. Silly me.
“Interview of the Year”
“Picture of the Year”