I used to think there were two kinds of people…those insist they still have plenty of gas even when they’re on empty just to fuck with their anxious wives and those of us who aren’t assholes, but then last week we ate at Whataburger and my sandwich had onions and mustard on it even though I didn’t want mustard or onions but I ate it because I am the kind of person who does not complain because I don’t like to be a bother, but then when I was almost done Victor started eating his sandwich and was like, “They left the mustard off mine” and I was like, “That’s weird. They put mustard on mine and I didn’t even want mustard” and Victor was like, “…Did you just eat my sandwich?” and I was like, “Oh. Maybe? Is that why mine had onions when I asked for no onions?” and turns out I did eat Victor’s sandwich and I apologized but I also explained that I didn’t do it on purpose and that technically he shouldn’t be mad since I only ate his sandwich because I’m too nice and that really both of us were victims here, but he said that he totally could be mad because “I’m too nice to not eat someone else’s sandwich” is not a rational excuse for anyone and I disagree, so I guess maybe there are four kinds of people.
PS. My computer is trying to tell me that the above paragraph is one unacceptably long run-on sentence that needs to be fixed but I think it’s perfectly acceptable since that’s the way I talk in real life, so I guess maybe there are 5 kinds of people and one very pedantic grammar program that is not happy with me.
There is really only one kind of people. The sooner we all figure that out, the better off we’ll be.
Recently, my wife and I had a similar experience with a Door Dash order in which we both got something we didn’t like instead of what we ordered, but secretly fed our incorrect orders to Leaky Tiki, the Freaky-Deaky Land Manatee of Love so as not to make the other feel bad. Turned out we’d swapped orders and never even considered the possibility. Tiki approves of everything in this tale.
I think there are three kinds. 1. Idiots. 2. Bigger Idiots, and 3. ASSHOLES 🙂
Why does mental health do that “I don’t want to be a bother” crap? How do we stop doing that?
I know you don’t know I’m raging at the universe here. Sorry to be a bother.
That’s two things that I just can’t do. 1. The car must NEVER have less than a quarter tank of gas. EVER. 2. If my sandwich/meal/order is wrong, I let someone know, nicely though.
Automated grammar checkers are useless intrusive garbage for everything except academic and business writing. Feel free to turn that ‘feature’ off and never regret it for a moment–and this applies to everyone.
My MIL once let me eat the meaty beans instead of the vegetarian beans because she was too nice to let me know that 1-there were two kinds (it looked like just two containers of the same thing) and 2-the kind I had is not the kind I prefer to eat.
The whole “too nice” thing is weird. I mean, I get it (mostly), but it’s weird.
And we agree on the cantankerousness of grammar checkers.
42. The answer is 42, plus the odd cat who thinks they are a people.
If you like whataburger, you have to watch the movie Vengeance. Like right now. You can stream it. BTW–person type #6: full sentences are for losers.
I always thought that there are two: the kind who could help another person but don’t – and who should therefore burn forever in hell – and the kind who help whenever they can because they can. These are generally also the same people who either make a bad situation worse for no good reason, or who make it better even if it costs them a bit because they know it’s the right thing to do. Does kinda make you wanna believe in hell, doesn’t it?
I think I must be that kind of person too. Or whatever the kind of person that ate my husband’s burrito, and not mine – even though they were completely different – and I didn’t even notice. Whatever kind of person would do that is absolutely what I am.
I love a good run on sentence and that one was pretty great
“I’m too nice to not eat someone else’s sandwich” is absolutely a legit, rational excuse. The Minnesotan in me read that and went, “Ope, I’d have done the same thing.”
There are SO many people!
For a long time the Suns were sponsored by Whataburger and whenever a Sun made a three, the announcer would shout: “what a shot, Whataburger…”. So after reading your story I’m jonesing for a burger and a pickup game to 11.
A friend informed me there are actually two kinds of people — delightful or tedious…though I may have been both at one time or another.
There are just 2 kinds of people – cat lovers, and everyone else with a genetic defect, who thanks to modern science and this new CRISPR technology will soon be cured.
Good post! First, I ride the zero. I have never filled my tank in my life (and I am old, baby!). Second, as someone who has worked in restaurants, bars, nightclubs and more, I never raise a fuss about my food. I have eaten plates of food that were not even mine because I did not want to create a scene. My last job was 19 years at a Palm Springs steakhouse and I have seen everything. The last place I wanted to go on my day off was a restaurant—-bars, yes. I needed a drink by then. People are nuts and not in a good way. Let’s just say this: I was on first name basis with our lovely Police officers because of outrageous incidents. Now I need a drink…..ahhhh that’s better….
I hate grammar correction, but I secretly AM a grammar corrector, although it’s all in my head and never spoken aloud. I just think my word processing software has an eighth grade education and I feel educationally superior. To my software. Probably because I love a good semi-colon to turn a great run-on sentence into TWO SEPARATE SENTENCES separated by a sophisticated punctuation mark. Thank you, Jenny, for being you.
There are three kinds of people, the ones who complain right away about a problem with their meal. The ones who don’t say anything because they don’t want to be a bother, and those who figure out that maybe they might politely say something about half way through eating that there was a problem, and that if they don’t speak up, then they are not being very nice to themselves. I’m the third kind. I don’t want to be a bother, but then I think about it and try to get it fixed once I have worked up the courage to stand up for myself.
I love a good run on sentence, because that’s the way I talk, too.
There are many different and strange kinds of people out there, as long as they’re not ASSHOLES I just let them be who they want to be.
I wouldn’t have been able to eat the sandwich and would have given it to my husband and driven somewhere else to try again…
Victor did say the mustard wasn’t on his, so technically….he ate your sandwich.
I say this is a tie.
Hahaha! First, I wouldn’t eat your burger and would nicely say it wasn’t my burger. Second, I am the human grammar checker. 😀 I read your Twitter title, then the title of the post and had to go back & read the Twitter title to make sure I didn’t misunderstand and tried to be patient as I read the post to understand why the titles were different. ROFLMAO
I totally agree with you about the paragraph. I could never understand why they wanted me to put commas and periods in certain places if it was supposed to be where I took a breath or stopped because I talk in run on sentences.
But, what if you got someone’s sandwich and it had mushrooms on it and you were like me, allergic to mushrooms. Then not only would you make your husband go back to the food place in question, you’d go in and ask for the manager, whip out the receipt, show them that it said NO MUSHROOMS because of a mushroom allergy and that you could have ended up in the ED, which is a stupid name for the Emergency Room because they trained us all to think of ED as Erectile Distribution l Dysfunction, with invasive needles in your body as they pumped things into to counteracted the allergic reaction to the mushrooms which wouldn’t have happened in the first place if they had just done their job right.
Um, I might have string feelings about this.
I have long contended that there are 2 types of people, the rabbits and the chickens. Now, keep in mind that there are infinite variations on this theme. There could be rabbits wearing chicken suits, chickens in rabbit attire, etc. The go-ahead, I’ll spit in the gas tank people: rabbits. Dutifully filled up at half-tank: chickens. The sandwich situation with you and Victor: smacks of chicken, although Victor accusing you of eating his sandwich: rabbit suit. Run-on sentences: rabbit. Just call ‘em as I see ‘em. (Sentence fragments, also rabbit.)
I want to know how you scarfed down your whole wrong burger before your husband had even taken a bite of his wring burger? Were you VERY hungry?
Ron-on, Sister, Run-on!
IT joke: There are 10 types of people: Those who know binary, and those who don’t.
This is why IT people are locked up in big buildings.
I’m always afraid someone will spit in my do over order. I don’t know it’s a fact, I just know it’s true. I do all my own cooking so it’s spot on always.
There are two kinds of people: those who think there are two kinds of people, and those who know better. 🙂
Oh BTW, I just saw taxidermy squirrels and other rodents on the new show Wednesday tonight, all done up in various outfits, and thought of you. lol
I won’t complain if my food is wrong too because I don’t want to be a bother. When I was in the hospital the nurses would get scared because they’d realized they hadn’t heard a peep out of me all day. When they’d check on me I’d say it was because I didn’t want to bother them but since they were here could I get drink. I’d go all day with out anything to drink because I just didn’t want to bother them
While your paragraph sentence made perfect sense to me, being the daughter of a librarian/poet, sister to a writer, sister to a libriarian and sister to a Technical Writer, I have to cringe slightly at the length but the breadth was amazing and amusing.
“I’m too nice to not eat someone else’s sandwich” is obviously going to end up on a t-shirt at some point. Curious to see what the accompanying graphic will look like. 😄
My father was a diesel truck and car mechanic. When I was a teen, I was warned that I would be wearing out walking shoes to my dying day if I ever let the gas gauge get down to the E. Something about dirt, sand and bunny fluff being pumped into the engine causing expensive repairs. Show to your husband. You’re welcome.
Maybe there are two kinds of people. People like Gloria and then the rest of us. HAHA
I’m the kind that would have used my drink lid to scrape off the mustard and onions into the burger wrapper and then eaten the burger.
That is, in fact, how I ate tripe for the first and only time. Someone else at the table ordered the same bowl of pho except with the addition of tripe, and the person who gave us the bowls accidentally swapped only those two bowls, and the tripe was down a few layers, so we both came to the “why do I have tripe?” and “why do I not have tripe?” conclusions near-simultaneously… although it took a bit longer for both of us to verbalize it, because *should* you say anything at all?…
But, anyway, the mystery was solved, but it was solved mid-bowl. And hey, now I know what tripe is like? (I’d always been a little curious, like I’m slightly curious about durian, but not curious enough to order it. And now I know. And do not ever need to order it.)
Years ago, in the time before, when my husband and I still went out to eat, a local restaurant used to use us as a test for new servers. We’d never get angry, we were generally patient, we’d be honest with management, and we’d still tip a lousy waiter. The managers would sneak us gift cards all the time for this because we were regulars and they knew they were using our willingness to not be assholes. It was a good way for them to see how new waitstaff dealt with stuff from a known quantity. (And also we could be like, this is the third time in a row that there has been no sauce, on the side or elsewhere.)
Having seen you in person for your first two book tours, I can say that you do in fact speak in a delightful run-on manner and this post made complete sense to me! However, it wouldn’t have been rude to check with Victor to see if the sandwiches had somehow been switched. Then it would have been a win-win. But on the other hand, this was more interesting. ❤️❤️❤️
There are 3 types of people, those who can count and those who can’t.
And this is why we love you. ^_^
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Jenny: I thought of you when I saw this, at least partially due to your commitment to ethically produced taxidermy, but you might not want to follow the link on the page to the ginger cat purse…yes, he was roadkill, but I’m kind of wishing I hadn’t looked.
https://www.calvertjournal.com/articles/show/10745/hedgehog-bra-sparks-controversy-and-calls-to-close-an-art-exhibition-in-st?fbclid=IwAR2C894a3XM3EUasY4GZnLcQ0q-lmhdD3rVJfCXRY_gIg6VK3zkHNjeVkzc
Then there’s the fifth kind of people; the ever-increasing number of spambots that keep showing up here.
I think you need to add in the person who ate the sandwich they didn’t really want without complaining because they are too nice, but now they are secretly pissed and resentful about it to the point of potentially poisoning the next sandwich. https://possumscatsthingsgnawingatme.wordpress.com/2022/11/29/purranormal-activity/
I would not have eaten that sandwich, not because I’m rude, but because I absolutely loathe mustard and raw onions give me horrible indigestion. I am more picky than polite when it comes to food. So guess I’m siding with Victor on this one. Sorry.
Oh, and I generally fill up the tank when it gets between half and a quarter of a tank but sometimes I forget and the little light comes on and I freak out until I can get to a gas station and fill up. So I’m with you on that one.
Given that I was unemployed in a difficult economy a year ago, I find it amazing that I can work from home and make a respectable $6k per week. I’m grateful to God for rewarding me with these rules, and now it’s my duty to show and extend anticipatory kindness to others.
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