Tag Archives: slow

Going Slow in the Fast Lane

 I don’t like it when I get stuck behind somebody that is going slow in the fast lane. It’s called the fast lane for a reason. You’re supposed to go fast in it. It’s the passing lane. Slower traffic should stay to the right. I thought it was common sense but apparently some people didn’t get the memo. I’d say that you should be going at least ten miles per hour above the speed limit to be using the fast lane, and you should get out of the fast lane if you see that there are others that want to go faster than you. If you’re going seventy-five miles per hour and see a guy going ninety, get out of the fast lane to let him pass, then get back in the fast lane and follow his lead. Let him do the major speeding so a cop pulls him over instead of you in a speed trap. I’m not encouraging you to speed. I’m saying that you should stay the fuck out of the fast lane if you don’t speed. Going slow in the fast lane is like killing yourself by a subway train: you’re wrecking other people’s commute because you hate your life. Don’t be so selfish and stay out of the fast lane. Critically Rated at 4/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Going Slower Than You Usually Do

Not too many things are as frustrating as when you’re going slower than you usually do. You’re doing a task that you do all the time. You know exactly how to do it. You know how long it should take to finish the job. And then some outside force starts dragging you down and holding you back. It’s like driving to work in the rain, you know the best way to get there but the slick roads and idiot drivers are making you late. It’s not your fault but there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s infuriating when you’re not in control. You think that you should have already been done by now, and it makes you mad that you aren’t yet.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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A Slow Bartender

It was a shitty day at work the other day, so I went to Happy Hour with a few coworkers. We were in desperate need for a drink, but unfortunately we go stuck with the slowest bartender in the history of the world. We ordered a few cocktails and a couple of beers, and then we started playing the waiting game. We waited as he sauntered around getting the liquors and mixers ready. We waited some more as he gathered up the glassware and started to make the first few drinks. Then we waited as he came back and asked what else we ordered. Then we waited as he made the next few drinks. Then we had to remind him that we also ordered beer, and we had to wait while he poured them from the tap. Then he asked us what we ordered again so that he could ring it in. We didn’t have a complicated order. There wasn’t anything that had to be blended or muddled, just a few simple cocktails and some beers. We had three drinks that were the same, we had two other drinks that were the same, and we had two IPAs. We could tell that he felt bad about taking so long, and he even offered us another round on the house. We had to pass. It would have taken too long, and it wouldn’t have been worth it. Time is the one thing that you can’t get back. If you’re a slow bartender, you are in the wrong profession.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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A Rude Cashier

There’s a little liquor store a few blocks from my house that’s located directly across the street from my laundromat. I go in there for beer, snacks, and lotto tickets. It’s slightly overpriced, but it’s convenient so I go there a lot. It’s a mom and pop place, privately owned and not at all fancy. But the guy that owns it is a dick. I hate when he’s running the register because he’s always playing games on his phone or laptop, and he’ll ignore me until he finishes his round. He won’t look up from his game or even bother to grunt a greeting. I go into his store a few times a week, I’ve spent thousands of dollars there over the past few years, and I know that he recognizes me because he doesn’t card me when I buy booze. But he still ignores me whenever I try to pay. This place is too convenient for me to stop going to it. So I came up with a new technique for dealing with him: I place my items on the counter and slowly count to thirty. If he hasn’t started ringing them up within thirty seconds, I will leave them on the counter and walk out. If he doesn’t want my business, he won’t get my business, and now he has to put my shit away. It might seem a little harsh, but I think it’s perfectly called for. Thirty seconds is a long time. The next time someone says hi to you, ignore them for thirty seconds before you suddenly acknowledge their existence, and notice how long and uncomfortable that silence is. Sometimes the only way to deal with a rude cashier is to be an asshole yourself.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Time Slows Down When You Pass a Blunt

Have you ever noticed that time slows down when you pass a blunt? You’re stoned and rambling on about something while you puff and puff until it’s time to pass. You shut up and slowly and carefully transfer it from your hand to the his, taking extreme precautions to avoid the sin of dropping the blunt. Time seems to slow down and stretch out. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the blunt you would be able to see each individual wingbeat of hummingbird in flight. It’s similar to an athlete being in the zone, when you’re in that perfect state of consciousness and you’re only focused on the task at hand. In this case, passing a blunt.

Critically Rated at 15/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Being Crunched for Time

I hate being late. I hate knowing that I’m going to be late. It seems like the whole world decides to relax and take it easy when I’m late. Like the universe is trying to slow me down even more. Being crunched for time means everything starts to go wrong. You get stuck behind an old lady driving. A family with way too many kids is blocking the sidewalk. The line at Starbucks is out the door and the guy in front of you doesn’t know what a Venti is. It’s enough to make you lash out and slap a stranger. Instead you bite your tongue and remember that patience is a fucking virtue. But you’re still going to be late.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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