Computer Access at Kinko's (Or The Dangers Of Consumerism)
Item Purchased: Computer Access at Kinko's (Or The Dangers Of Consumerism)
Location Purchased: Kinko's / 700 S. Wabash / Chicago, IL
Price: $4.25 + tax
Review: After sniffling and snotting through my breakfast at Eleven City Diner, I walked north on Wabash Avenue to Balbo Drive to make some print-outs at Kinkos for a project I have been working on. I will say briefly that the employees at Kinkos may seem to be too preoccupied with their personal chat and activity to help you out at first, but once you get their attention, these people are fantastic. They are patient, knowledgeable and helpful. For instance, when I was trying to retrieve a receipt for my computer access time, the machine I inserted my credit card into seemed to want to keep my card. As I suffered through a sinus headache caused by my hayfever, wanting nothing more than to go back home and go to bed, I calmly alerted the counterpeople of my debacle. They sprung into action with keys and screwdriver in hand and dissected the ravenous machine to return my now mangled credit card. I didn't get my receipt after all, but I didn't really care.
After literally mangling my line of credit, I continued north on Wabash Ave. to deliver my printouts to my employer for the final go-ahead. As I approached the parking lot between Congress Parkway and Harrison Street, a sunglass-wearing waste of carbon, driving a silver Mercedes (I think... I've never been very astute when it comes to automobiles) accelerated from the east parking lot across Wabash, into the west parking lot and, in the process of rushing to stand still, sped in front of me at a distance of less than five inches and ran over the front of my left foot with his car. Luckily, the tires of his gas guzzling status symbol only nicked the front of my shoe and didn't crush my fragile carbon-based toes (which, by the way, are worth infinitely more than the driver's entire person).
"What the FUCK!" I screamed justifiably.
"Too Bad!" The sphincter with a license responded.
Too bad? Too bad!?
If I had been in better health or a more alert state of mind, I would have written down his license plate number, taken a picture of the sorry excuse for a man with my camera phone or demanded an apology. In minor shock and a major drowsy haze, all I could do was curse a bit more, stare in disbelief and continue on my way in hopes of soon ending this day by collapsing into my pillow to sleep off my hayfever.
I don't have a grudge against drivers in general, but I do have a major grudge against people who sit behind hundreds of horsepower that is triggered by a slight tilt of the ankle who can't wait the thirteen seconds it would have taken me to walk by the driveway of the parking lot. If you are spending that much money for a car like a Mercedes just so you can shave thirteen seconds off of your commute, I feel sorry for you. Whatever you feel you need to compensate for, dear driving dickhead, I fear that no amount of money or horsepower will grant you the release you need. My advice; try mind-numbing medication and muscle relaxants. One will have an effect on you, the other may not.
Sorry for the rant, but that's why people have blogs, right? To sum up, patronize Kinkos on Wabash and Balbo, not pedestrians!
Rating: 4.5 / 5
Location Purchased: Kinko's / 700 S. Wabash / Chicago, IL
Price: $4.25 + tax
Review: After sniffling and snotting through my breakfast at Eleven City Diner, I walked north on Wabash Avenue to Balbo Drive to make some print-outs at Kinkos for a project I have been working on. I will say briefly that the employees at Kinkos may seem to be too preoccupied with their personal chat and activity to help you out at first, but once you get their attention, these people are fantastic. They are patient, knowledgeable and helpful. For instance, when I was trying to retrieve a receipt for my computer access time, the machine I inserted my credit card into seemed to want to keep my card. As I suffered through a sinus headache caused by my hayfever, wanting nothing more than to go back home and go to bed, I calmly alerted the counterpeople of my debacle. They sprung into action with keys and screwdriver in hand and dissected the ravenous machine to return my now mangled credit card. I didn't get my receipt after all, but I didn't really care.
After literally mangling my line of credit, I continued north on Wabash Ave. to deliver my printouts to my employer for the final go-ahead. As I approached the parking lot between Congress Parkway and Harrison Street, a sunglass-wearing waste of carbon, driving a silver Mercedes (I think... I've never been very astute when it comes to automobiles) accelerated from the east parking lot across Wabash, into the west parking lot and, in the process of rushing to stand still, sped in front of me at a distance of less than five inches and ran over the front of my left foot with his car. Luckily, the tires of his gas guzzling status symbol only nicked the front of my shoe and didn't crush my fragile carbon-based toes (which, by the way, are worth infinitely more than the driver's entire person).
"What the FUCK!" I screamed justifiably.
"Too Bad!" The sphincter with a license responded.
Too bad? Too bad!?
If I had been in better health or a more alert state of mind, I would have written down his license plate number, taken a picture of the sorry excuse for a man with my camera phone or demanded an apology. In minor shock and a major drowsy haze, all I could do was curse a bit more, stare in disbelief and continue on my way in hopes of soon ending this day by collapsing into my pillow to sleep off my hayfever.
I don't have a grudge against drivers in general, but I do have a major grudge against people who sit behind hundreds of horsepower that is triggered by a slight tilt of the ankle who can't wait the thirteen seconds it would have taken me to walk by the driveway of the parking lot. If you are spending that much money for a car like a Mercedes just so you can shave thirteen seconds off of your commute, I feel sorry for you. Whatever you feel you need to compensate for, dear driving dickhead, I fear that no amount of money or horsepower will grant you the release you need. My advice; try mind-numbing medication and muscle relaxants. One will have an effect on you, the other may not.
Sorry for the rant, but that's why people have blogs, right? To sum up, patronize Kinkos on Wabash and Balbo, not pedestrians!
Rating: 4.5 / 5
posted by Kevin | permalink |
3 Comments:
that idiot i hired is just going to have try harder!
Good thing you are saving costs by posting cowardly anonymous comments on blogs yourself!
drats! foiled again!
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