Temerity Jane
11. 04. 2013

Worst Kind of Friendly Cashier: The friendly craft store cashier. “You know what you can make with this?” Yep. I do. That’s why I’m buying it. I’ve got a plan. I’m buying it, and I’m going to take it home, and I’m going to execute my plan. When she says, “You know what you can make with this?,” she makes me pretend to consider her idea, like it’s good, and I might do it. But there’s no chance I’m going to do it, because I came in with a plan, which I am going home to execute. And then I am awkward, like, “oh, yeah, uh huh,” OR WORSE? I might feel like I have to tell her what I’m actually going to do, and then she’s judging my idea against hers, and maybe she’s not thinking my idea is very good, and I’m thinking about what she’s thinking, and I’m probably making serious bitch face, and then I am a bitch, and she’s thinking I’m a bitch, even though she is the one who made me be a bitch, by forcing me to pretend like I’m weighing her idea against mine. “CONSIDER MY IDEA. DID YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT? WHY NOT? MY IDEA IS GOOD, TOO. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO THAT’S SO GREAT? IS IT AS GOOD AS MY IDEA? JUSTIFY YOUR PLAN. TELL ME YOUR PLAN.”

Worst Kind of Person on Twitter: The person who puts all of their replies to other people in front of the original tweet. You know what I mean? You’re already limited to 140 characters, but this person crunches their responses even further. Instead of just replying directly to the person, like so,

@Person Thing I think is really brilliant and I am really impressed with myself!

they do something like this,

I’m rly self-impresssed, does every1 see this?!!? @Person Orignal tweet abbreviated down to nonsense.

He can just respond without putting the other person’s tweet in there. If I’m following the other person, too, I’ll see his response, and I’ll have already seen the original tweet. If I’m not following the other person, I won’t have seen the original tweet, and I won’t see theresponse. There’s a reason for that. Twitter is designed that way. It’s so that I don’t have to see the conversations of people I’m not following, or the half-conversations people I am following are having with people I’m not following. If I wanted to be following someone, I would be. By doing what the WORST KIND OF PERSON ON TWITTER is doing, he is deciding for me what I see. I’ve already decided, either by actively choosing not to follow who he is talking to, or by simply not getting to it yet, or not knowing who that person is, or WHATEVER. Whatever the reason, I have chosen either deliberately or by lack of action. I’ve chosen. And now he is overriding my choice, simply to make sure I see whatever he’s saying. He’s decided that whatever he has to say is more important than my choice, than the experience I’ve designed and decided on for myself. Similar to the douche period, it is equally douchey and equally employed by douches.

It’s the equivalent of autoplay music and videos and browser windows that resize themselves. IT IS. Don’t manipulate the Internet experience of other people. It’s RUDE. You don’t have a good reason for it. If you want to bring other people’s attention to a conversation that you’re involved in because you think it’s an important/funny/interesting conversation, find an important/interesting/funny point and retweet it like a normal person, and people can decide to join if they want. Damn. WORST KIND OF PERSON ON TWITTER.

The Worst Kind of Food Police: The “oh, that’s not a REAL ________!” people. Let’s take cheese steaks as an example. I love cheese steaks. And as we all know, Philadelphia has a reputation for cheese steaks. Sometimes, when a person eats a cheese steak, a person – henceforth known as a fartwaft – feels the need to inform the eater that what they are eating is not a REAL cheese steak. Because it’s not from Philadelphia. And also, it has the wrong kind of cheese. And also, did you put ketchup on it? Wait, is that mayonnaise? You don’t need all those vegetables on — look, just give it to me. That’s not even food. That’s not a REAL cheese steak. Let me just throw that in the garbage. IT’S NOT A REAL CHEESE STEAK. YOU’RE NOT EVEN FROM PENNSYLVANIA, ARE YOU? DO YOU HAVE A PERMIT FOR THAT SANDWICH? WHO EVEN SAID IT WAS OKAY FOR YOU TO ORDER A CHEESE STEAK? AM I GOING TO HAVE TO CALL SOMEONE DOWN HERE? DRAW THE LIBERTY BELL FROM MEMORY. I WANT TO SEE AN ACCURATE CRACK, TO SCALE.

Holy shit, shut the fuck up, fartwaft. Cheese + steak = cheese steak. End.

This also happens all the time with the “correct” preparation of ethnic foods, usually phrased as, “My grandmother would DIE TO DEATH if she saw you eating X food in Y way! SHE’D DIE FROM IT. Do you want my DEAD GRANDMOTHER to DIE SOME MORE?”

Yeah, you people – you guys – you’re the fucking worst. Just the worst. What the hell kind of response are you expecting when you do that? Someone’s going to spit the hunk of kielbasa right out of her mouth and back away with her hands in the air, sobbingly confessing to being Canadian all along? NO ONE IS TRYING TO REKILL ANYONE’S DEAD ANCESTORS. THERE’S NO LAW. There’s also no prize. Unless it’s for biggest fartwaft. Stinky.


If I keep going, I am either going to get TOO MAD, or offend someone (OH: WORST KIND OF ENTITLED PERSON – “I’m offended by the fact that you don’t like something I do.” EXPECTANT LOOK. Where I am supposed to respond to the expectant look by assuring the person that they’re the special exception.), so I will just stop. But I suppose it would be okay if you maybe knew a worst kind of person or two. Like the kind of person who doesn’t update for weeks and then expects you to provide the content YOU CAN’T USE THAT ONE I JUST CALLED DIBS.


This is Penelope.
She’s almost two.
I didn’t crop out the mess.
Try to make me give a poo.

43 responses to “Several Different Kinds of Worst Kinds. BONUS POEM.”

  1. June says:

    Did you trade Penelope in for an older model?? I don’t think she was that big last week.

  2. kathleenicanrah says:

    the person who is in the middle of a 21 day juice fast and is therefore going to sit and drink water while I do all the eating of sushi and drinking of wine while they watch. and rather that talking about meeting topic, instead talks about their twenty one day juice fast and say how amazing it is and how not hungry they are. oh you know what would be amazing? if you didn’t schedule a dinner meeting during a fast, and/or telling me you were fasting BEFORE i ordered. that would be AMAZING.

    this just happened to me on tuesday. I’m a little full of rage, which honestly, is better than being full of 21 days of pureed kale OH MY GOD EAT SOMETHING.

    Brooke Reply:

    Related: the people who do eat, but then judge you for what you’re eating and mask it as trying to educate you. “Do you know what’s IN THAT?” Nope. I live under a rock. I have no idea what could possibly be in French fries. But whatever the hell it is, it’s fucking delicious.

    Lawyerish Reply:

    OMG the juice fast people. And the commenting-on-what-I’m-eating people. THE WORST.

    Also, might I add The Worst Kind of Diet Proclaimer. As in, “Oh, I SHOULDN’T have one of these cookies from the break room! There goes my diet! I guess YOU don’t have to worry about that. Honestly, I really shouldn’t be eating this.” JUST EAT IT OR DON’T EAT IT AND BE QUIET.

    TJ Reply:

    I will take the cookie right out of the hands of those people. I will. Let me help you with that. Yoink.

    question Reply:

    Why you hate on juicers and or fasting advocates? It’s really good for you, were just trying to be helpful! Did the samo to jesus too I supposes, what can we mere mortals expect?

    TJ Reply:

    Do you know what’s IN that?

    I hope it’s money.

    Mandy Reply:

    This made me snorfle. At work, which is the worst kind of snorfle!

    betttina Reply:

    Money in food!!!

    When my dad was in college in this little tiny town in Indiana, he worked at a donut shop, so he had to get there at like 3 am to make the donuts. A robber came in one morning and he dumped the cash register in the donut batter before the thief got that far and said, in effect, “Sorry, dude, we haven’t opened yet, no cash.” Robber left, no big deal.

    So they just went ahead and baked and served the donuts full of pennies and dimes and things and just warned the customers. (I think the fished the cash out, just not the coins.) Customers looooooved it and it became an annual tradition. (would NEVER happen nowadays!)

    So there really was money in the food! Just bite carefully!

    kathleenicanrah Reply:

    diets and dreams. NOBODY EVER WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT EITHER. ever. stop talking, worst people.

  3. Brooke says:

    I snorted multiple times re: the worst kind of food police. Bravo for that one.

    I’ll have to think a little longer on my Worst Kind Of contribution.

  4. Jesabes says:

    I had something all planned to say but it flew out my head when I saw that picture of your teenager.

    TJ Reply:

    She was not that big in February.

  5. Swistle says:

    I don’t know what something this is the worst of, but I feel like joining in some anger, so: I hate when people start a comment or response with “Wow” or “Really?”—where “Wow” clearly means “Wow, you are SO NUTS, I am taking a virtual step back,” and where “Really?” means “I’m pretty sure you’re lying, because I had a different experience which means you had the same experience I did.”

    TJ Reply:

    SAME PEOPLE as the ones who start a response with UM COMMA.

    “Um, not to be a bitch, but…”


    Swistle Reply:

    YES, “Um” is DEFINITELY in this category.

  6. S says:

    Oh man, I had to laugh at the cheese steak analogy. I’m from Philly, and I really love cheese steaks. When I go out of town or state or whatever, I will still order a cheese steak. Do you know why? Because it’s still a freaking cheese steak! Sometimes I’m with people who think I’m committing a sin by ordering a cheese steak out of the area. The ingredients of a cheese steak aren’t exclusive to just the Philadelphia area! People can make them in other places!
    Also? You are letting Penelope get too big too fast. I’m not sure if the Internet is okay with this.

    TJ Reply:

    She does this thing (I’m sure it’s not exclusive to her, but she’s my first and my only, so I’m one of THOSE parents) where she grows in bursts. Let’s call them… spurts. I’ll call them GROWTH SPURTS. We should make that a thing! And it’s SO SUDDEN. And it’s SO stereotypical. Like SO MUCH. Like television. She eats EVERYTHING. EV-ERY-THING. Her food. Our food. More food. And then seriously, one morning? She’s huge. It’s unreal. And, frankly, unappealing.

    Linnea Welch Reply:

    Eleanor did that this week. I put her down for a nap and she woke up a full inch taller.

    Sarah Reply:

    The growth spurts sneak up on me every time. “Wow, you are eating a ton, yet not really grow…oh hi there. You grew. Time for new pants.” One day I will get a clue and preemptively buy the kids some bigger pants. Not today though.

  7. Brooke says:

    The worst kind of drivers are those who ignore “merge ahead” and even “seriously, merge NOW” signs and fly up to the front of the line to try to cut in front of everyone who obeyed the “merge ahead” signs. Like where ever they have to go is anymore important than where anyone else has to go and they deserve to get there faster.

    Anne Reply:

    I HATE THOSE PEOPLE. Science needs to get on some technology to fix that. They should find a way to measure HATE BRAIN WAVES coming from other cars and if enough are directed specifically at one person, they get a ticket. 12 cars sent hate laser-beam waves at you? Clearly you were doing something idiotic, $100 fine. 18 cars? Idiot. Here’s your $150 ticket. And so forth. Science, get on that.

    Cherie Beyond Reply:

    You know who I hate more than those people? The drivers who then let them in at the front of the line. You are ENABLERS, people. You are the WORST ENABLERS.

    Alice Reply:

    this behavior factored into my breakup with an otherwise lovely boyfriend. he felt that if other people were “too stupid” to not drive to the front of the line, and “chose” to wait in line with other FUNCTIONING MEMBERS OF SOCIETY for “no reason” then it wasn’t his fault, and he shouldn’t have to wait along with everyone else who was too dumb to realize you could just drive up to the front.

  8. Anne L. says:

    The damn tags kill me every time!

  9. Lara says:

    Worst type of people in front of me at Starbucks this morning:

    Worst person: “What types of muffins do you have?”
    Barista [looking in case directly in front of WP]: “Blueberry, bran, carrot”
    WP: “I’ll have an oatmeal muffin”
    Barista: “We don’t have any oatmeal muffins.”
    WP: “Oh. What type of sandwiches do you have?”
    Barista: “We only have sausage and turkey bacon left.”
    WP: “I’ll have the ham.”
    Barista: “We are out of the ham.”
    WP: “Oh. Ok. I’ll have an oatmeal muffin.”

    Everyone in the long line up behind her: “ARRRRGGGGHHHHHH”

  10. Erica says:

    Worst kind of Internet participant: Too chicken to actually list things that are super annoying for fear of offending people who do them OH FINE IT’S ME. I SUCK AT THIS GAME.

    Erica Reply:

    Also, I seriously tried to type “participater” for a second there.

  11. Scanderoon says:

    I definitely read the tags as “Audience participation: come on, do this for me, fartwafts.”

    Funnily enough, I don’t really mind being called a fartwaft in that context. It makes it sound affectionate.

  12. Oh my lord, the Food Police people. In my experience, New Yorkers are the worst at this. They act mortally offended that anyone would try to eat a piece of pizza or a bagel anywhere else in the world.

    Yes, I am sure my slice of pizza is not as good as a New York slice of pizza but I am hungry and I am not in New York so I am eating this pizza and I’m enjoying it and also oh my god shut up.

    Since it’s almost tourist season here and I am dreading these people already, may I present the WORST KIND OF TOURIST? These are the people who wander around my cute little town complaining that the food/stores/coffee/pizza and bagels are not like they are at home. Well, I am sorry we are not identical to Whosiwhatsit, New Jersey. If you are so fond of Whosiwhatsit, New Jersey and feel like everyplace in the universe should be identical to Whosiwhatsit, New Jersey, may I suggest saving the thousands of dollars you are spending to be in Non-Whosiwhatsit, New Jersey and just STAY HOME FROM NOW ON.

  13. Lisa says:

    The worst kind of co-worker:The one who constantly (passive-aggressively) tells you how much they are working, and how they are missing their kids grow up.

    STOP. You.Have.A.Choice.

    That’s nice that you work a gazillion hours a week – but I can’t/don’t/WON’T. I want to pick up my kids and hang out with them, I want to cook dinner for my family, I want to go to my kids’ activities. The world will still turn if you cut back to 50 hours a week, you know.

    I feel better now :)

    Danell Reply:

    Yes! Yesyesyes!

    Tia Reply:

    Can you please tell this to my boss? I’m in the can’t/don’t/won’t group, but she’s in the workaholic group. It’s causing a lot of tension :(

  14. Gaby says:

    Worst kind of emailers: They send you an email then immediately call, text, or walk over to let you know they just sent you an email. See: my boss. You have ALREADY employed one method of communication, a fairly speedy one at that, can you please limit your communication effort to that ONE method? And give me five damned seconds to receive and possibly reply before you’re in my face about it? Thanks!

  15. Rosa says:

    WORST kind of mentor / teacher:

    I’m kind of new at my job that requires a lot of skills I don’t have (it’s a volunteer thing). All I have is a shitty manual and a mentor to help me and this guy… Every time I ask him something (and I only ask him stuff if something REALLY bothers me because I hate asking him stuff) he’s like ‘OMG pff pls tell me you didn’t just ask me something *I* could do in 5 mins are you seriously asking me that OMG’ and I want to rip his hair out. YES. YES I’M ASKING.

  16. Hayley says:

    I’ve been reading your blog for over two years now. Excellent!

    Worst kind of volunteer: The one that complains the whole time while just standing there. I painted an apartment today with some other teenagers for a youth group thing, and some of the younger kids would either A. moan about the difficulty of the job or B. stand there aimlessly while I busted my butt painting/cleaning etc. Or both A and B. It’s not the whininess or laziness that bothers me, really; it’s the fact that these people were volunteering their time to help someone but not actually, like, helping that much. If you’re going to volunteer, go ham! Work your butt off and be proud of yourself for it. Don’t just stand there.

  17. question says:

    Th_uh wuh urst
    I outie here
    Would be the best

  18. jodifur says:

    worst kind of person around tax season “You don’t want a tax refund…because you are just loaning your money to the government interest free.”

    Look, I know that…everyone knows that. But I’d still rather get a refund than owe $10,000 so please, just leave me and my accounting alone…okay?

    Tia Reply:

    Yes! My response to those people? “The $4 of interest I would have earned I would have wasted on a fancy coffee anyway, so I’m much better off getting a chunk of a refund that I used to pay down my student loans.”

  19. Ruby says:

    Worst kind of perfectionist: The one who has to point out EVERY SINGLE technicality in what you are saying. Example:
    You: My friend Mike is a year older than me.
    Them: Actually, his birthday is the day before yours, so he’s technically three-hundred and sixty-six days older than you.
    You: Alright, fine. He’s three-hundred and sixty-six days older than me.
    Them: But not in leap years!

  20. Jason Doege says:

    It’s funny, I went to Philly and had a “real” cheese steak. The first time I ever had a cheese steak was right there in the valley of the sun at a restaurant that no longer exists but was awesome called “A Taste of Philadelphia” so that fact is less than worthless because you not only can’t use it and it takes up room in my cluttered brain but anyway… I went to Philadelphia and an old friend who also was from Scottsdale when I lived there but lives in PA now took me to Pat’s King of Steaks to try a “real” cheese steak. In fairness, he warned me. It was bland beyond belief compared to what I’d become use to. Speaking of fartwafts, the funny thing is, there is a place right across the street from Pat’s called Geno’s who in turn claims to have the “real” cheese steaks. So, yeah. If even the people in Philly can’t agree on what a “real” cheesesteak is, I am pretty sure no fartwaft in the valley can claim to know the true provenance. Cheese + Steak = Cheese Steak. Eat what you like.

    BTW, Penny is soo cute. It has been a real pleasure watching her grow up. Thank you.

    P.S. I rather like “fartwaft”. I hope you don’t mind if I appropriate it for appropriate uses.

  21. Kristy says:

    I am embarrassed to admit that I have a bit of the cheesesteak symptoms. As a person from Philliy who lives in the South, I will admit that not EVERY cheesesteak is a cheesesteak, at least to my picky taste buds. There’s a certain finesse to the texture of the roll and cut of the meat and ingredients involved or NOT involved (eff mayonnaise! Just no!) so I won’t eat just any bread with steak and cheese that a restaurant is attempting to shill to me. I must point out that this is true in Philly too – there are some places there that aren’t that good either so it’s a matter of preference. However, I don’t force that opinion on others or balk at their choice of eating of what is clearly an inferior cheesesteak, in my mind. What kills ME, though, is people who INSIST on me having one because I’m clearly FROM Philly so why WOULDN’T I want one. Because apparently I’m just supposed to live on a diet of cheesesteaks and soft pretzels and Tastykakes and Yeungling, and every last one of those things is exactly the same no matter where you get it. So yea, there’s that type of person too. Pushing those stereotypes on me. When I’d much rather be standing in the Wawa in my Eagles jersey eating all of their delicious meatball sandwiches forever and forever. Because Wawa will always be superior to anything else ever in life that people want to talk about, food and shopping-wise.

  22. Kristy says:

    Also, to Jason in the comment above – Pat’s and Geno’s are not the best cheesesteaks in the area. (I hesitate to say “real” because we’ve already decided that cheese + steak in any form is real cheesesteak). Those are the tourist spots and most locals can only be found there at like 2am drunk after a game. I’ve had far superior sandwiches from most corner sandwich shops in the city and suburbs. Don’t let Pat’s or Geno’s ruin your opinion.