Holy shit, is this for real? (Yet *another* post on entitlement)

My list of people whose work I’ll never try because they are assholes towards readers grows by the minute.

Which is kinda sad, because I’ve heard that some of those books are awesome.

On the other hand, there are thousands upon thousands of new books out there, many of them written and published by writer-type people who respect readers even when they disagree with them. I know. What a concept, right?

Plus my TBR pile is scary, so it’s not as if I’m going to be running out of reading material any time soon.

I have been pondering the whole dust up going around over an author doing a Kickstarter for her book. Jane at Dear Author talked about it here, and Lori poked some fun here.

(edited 3/29/15 to add: excellent piece by Jenny Trout)

(edited 4/7/15: storyfy with hard numbers and discussion)

Me? I’m just a little fed up with how some people feel entitled to my money and my time.

Rambling rant and other stories.

(Please keep in mind that this was written on Sunday afternoon. After Monday’s news, all the shit below seems petty, small, unimportant–and yet, life must go on, so here it is.)

*

I’m very tired–working seven days a week ain’t for sissies–and dealing with some family crap that has no easy solution has sapped the cheerfulness out of me. Feel free to skip to the more neutral bits at the end, or entirely ignore this one, and instead expect a review in the next couple of days.

Life is weird enough.

As some of you may know, I have worked in food service for over four and a half years now. It may not seem as a long time, and it probably isn’t when you are talking of other types of work. But, as anyone who has worked behind a counter serving the public knows, it doesn’t take long to become both jaded to the appalling levels of rudeness and entitlement displayed for your hapless benefit, and endlessly amazed at the new levels of idiocy and privilege every other day of work brings.

To whit,  shenanigans from this past weekend.

Because if I don’t share, I’ll explode: a Goldilocks story

Yesterday at work (not verbatim, but pretty damn close):

Customer to cashier: I want a capuccino.

Cashier: One cappucino.

Customer: With vanilla.

Cashier: Vanilla cappucino.

Customer: But not too much vanilla.

Cashier: Light vanilla…

Customer: No, i don’t want light vanilla, I want regular vanilla.

Cashier: Yes, ma’am, I meant “light” as in “not too much”…

Customer: But I don’t want too little either.

Cashier: …

Three minutes later: