Complaints

My friend Kylie came down for a few days to visit me and to spend some time “at the shore.” She’s an old friend from college who lives over two hours away in north Jersey, so whenever she has a chance to come down, I gladly welcome her stay.

It was a spur of the moment trip. My friend Jill and I called her around five in the afternoon and jokingly, but half-seriously, asked her to make the trip down, only for her to actually willingly agree to our plans, and even better, commit to spending three hours in the car to get down to the island. She got here by eight. I assume she walked in my front door with her bag in one hand and her phone in the other, expecting to be greeted by both Jill and me, except for this visit she was greeted by my dad.

Jill and I weren’t there. We were still off gallivanting around the county from our previous excursions our day off brought with it—beach, run, shopping, dinner. So when my phone buzzed in my lap at dinner, and I looked down to see Kylie calling, I knew she probably wasn’t happy. Normally, I would never answer a phone call during dinner for no reason other than the plain and simple fact that it’s rude, but in this case, I made an exception (mainly because I know Jill doesn’t care anyway).

“I really hate when people call me during dinner,” I said as I answered my phone to Kylie’s call.

“I really hate when people say they’re somewhere when they’re really not,” was Kylie’s response back to me.

“You’re right,” I said. “Be there soon.”

The rest of the night went according to plan. We sat out back by my pool and enjoyed the weather over drinks. We had some other friends come over and join our company. We eventually made our way to the North Wildwood bar scene for some harmless fun at Echos. We stopped at WaWa late night on the way home from the bar to grab some food. Couldn’t have asked for a better night.

So this morning, as the three of us sit in my room and recall the night’s events, Kylie begins by saying that she had a good time despite the fact that it took Jill and I two hours to get ready:

“I really hate when people say they’re going to be five more minutes, and they really mean 20.”

“Well, I really hate when you say you’re about to jump in the shower, and someone else jumps in right before you, even though they just heard you say that you were getting in,” is Jill’s response to that.

“Well I hate when someone tells you she’s leaving her house at the other end of the island, and it takes her an hour to get from one end of the island to the other,” is my response to Jill.

We’re having quite a good time coming up with simple, little things that tend to irritate us throughout our typical days in the summer—little things that we never really thought of before, but figure we should. Why not? Here are some other little things that irritate us, and I’m sure you as well:

1. Cell phone service on the weekends: I wake up Saturday morning to five text messages. After five futile attempts to send an outgoing text response, I give up. Then I remember that it’s Saturday, when the island is at its absolute maximum capacity of the overflowing of people the weekend generally brings, meaning no parking spaces, no spots on the beach and no cell phone service.

2. Salad dressings: with all three of us being waitresses, we love sharing fellow serving stories. Most of our personal favorites share a common theme, usually involving a passive-aggressive dispute with a customer over salad dressings. The following conversation ensues:

“I’ll take the house salad. And what kind of dressing comes with that?”

“Well, our house salad comes with strawberries, spiced, candied walnuts, goat cheese, tender greens tossed in a balsamic strawberry-vinaigrette.”

“Okay, well I’ll take Ranch.”

“No you won’t, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t have Ranch dressing. We don’t have French, Russian, Italian, Blue Cheese, or Thousand Island either.”

Seriously, did I list that as an option?

3. Slow walkers: Why is it that at the most particular time when you need to get somewhere, and in a hurry, you find yourself behind some of the slowest walkers in the world? Seriously, do you not have anywhere to go? Are you taking this much enjoyment in walking a step, stopping to look at everything around you, before taking another? And lastly, HOW do you find enjoyment in that?

4. Sitting inside: on a gorgeous day, that is. We don’t understand why one would want to sit on the couch in the dim of the room, instead of doing the same thing on a beach chair. Down by the ocean. With the sun shining down on you. With the nice breeze brushing by you. With the pleasant sound of birds chirping surrounding you. It’s summer. It’s hot. It’s outdoors time. And on that note, I stop writing because I’m going to the beach with Jill and Kylie to enjoy the gorgeous day.

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