An Off the Cuff Offseason Presents: The Continuing Misadventures of Napoleon in Rags, Vol.3

To fill some space during the offseason I’m going to be running a series of stories about the “hilarious” mishaps that I am growing ever more accustomed to. My days are generally filled with fraudulent attempts at professionalism, lame attempts at humour and staggeringly transparent attempts to fit in with the normal humans. It’s mostly gaffes, apologies and dizzying social awkwardness – just ask anyone who has had the misfortune of being romantically linked to me. Don’t worry, not everything is 100% accurate or 100% hilarious. Here is today’s installment:


Stupidity in Spades

I don't consider myself old enough to complain about the youth of today, but seriously what the crap is up with the youth of today? It's not the Twilight, the Facebook or the unbearable air of entitlement... well it is those things, I just don't have the energy for them today.

Today is about the stupidity. So, so much stupidity.


More specifically stupid kids working in the retail industry. Can someone please explain to me what exactly the qualifications are to be employed these days?

As far as I can tell, you simply have to be breathing to be employable. And, I mean just breathing - a functioning motor system is a luxury. People skills? Meh. And complex brain activity, forgetaboutit.

Let me set the stage for you as to why this has suddenly set me off. As of late I've had the distinct displeasure of frequenting certain big-box retail establishments on a fairly regular basis. And I would say the level of engagement from the staff at these stores ranges from catatonic to palpable hostility.


"Oh, I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you by making you actually do your job. I know you're pissed that I called you away from chatting up the female in your department - who's actually a 6, by the way, but seems like an 8.5 because she's the only female working with a bunch of dudes - but she's still out of your league, just so you know. Trust me, if I could help it I wouldn't want your help anyway - I mean, would you want to talk to you. But sadly I do not possess the ability to conjure my own bedding plants out of dust and positive thinking - if I did, I assure you I would not be inflicting this unpleasantness on myself. So if you'll help me for literally 15 seconds I'll be out of your life forever and you can get back to failing to impress the sea-hag in aisle 7 with tall tales of the wicked new spoiler you're putting on your Fiero."

So now you're cursing yourself for leaving the house and only just clinging to a few scraps of your sanity. But you've got your [insert item here] and you're making a Bo Jackson-esqe run for the door.
In a perfect world you'd be able to just walk out the door and get on with your life. Sadly, things like morality, commerce and the legal system get in the way and compel you to pay for everything you've taken off the shelves. But good news for you, dear reader, some innovative and technologically-advanced retailers have installed automated check-outs that allow you to pay for your items on your own.

I know some people lament the decline of human interaction taking place in almost all aspects of human society. But not me - I think it's the greatest thing since sliced bread. The less I have to come in contact with moody, unhappy and unpleasant people, the better - and that pretty much describes 98.6% of the service industry.

Automated customer service telephone line? Awesome.

Touch screens and fancy computers helping me check out my purchases? Sign me up.

Robot wives... perhaps I've said too much.

But as it stands now, most retailers still have an honest-to-goodness human manning the check-out line. And "human" is meant only in the most literal sense - I generally get the feeling that there's not a whole lot of cognition happening in front of that till. I think this brief description pretty much sums up the whole experience:

- You walk up to the till and put your items on the counter and await them being scanned.
- Chances of getting a hello: 1 in 15
- The young female behind the till generally looks like she just came off a 13-day meth jag and has the disposition of, "If it meant I could have another hour's sleep, I would tear your face off without a second thought." (Note: It's not my intent to be sexist - these positions are usually staffed by females)
- A total price is mumbled at you
- Money is exchanged
- Have to ask for a bag
- Dirty look in your direction
- Transaction completed
- Over/under on the total number of words spoken by both parties during the entire encounter: 5.5
- Exit

And thus your brief glimpse at the future generations is complete and you're breathing fresh air again.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no rocket scientist so I don't expect everyone else to be cracking the human genome. But man oh man, is a basic level of social interaction and intelligence really too much to ask? I swear I feel like I'm one step away from yelling at kids to get off my lawn - because I genuinely believe that kids are getting dumber and dumber. I'm not sure if this says more about me or them?


One programming note, Sports As Life will be closed next week as your host with the most is on vacation.

An Off the Cuff Offseason Presents: The Continuing Misadventures of Napoleon in Rags, Vol.2 - Just Hook It Up to My Veins!

To fill some space during the offseason I’m going to be running a series of stories about the “hilarious” mishaps that I am growing ever more accustomed to. My days are generally filled with fraudulent attempts at professionalism, lame attempts at humour and staggeringly transparent attempts to fit in with the normal humans. It’s mostly gaffes, apologies and dizzying social awkwardness – just ask anyone who has had the misfortune of being romantically linked to me. Don’t worry, not everything is 100% accurate or 100% hilarious. Here is today’s installment:


The Unadulterated Joy of NyQuil

You may have noticed that production around these parts has been a little slow lately. Alright, who are we kidding - you didn't notice.

Truth be told I've been a little under the weather lately with a nasty bout of Cotard's Syndrome. Nah, I'm just kidding - it was just a little touch of the hanta virus. Whatever it may have been, I was reminded of something I can't believe I forgot - NyQuil is awesome.

I'm not going to go off on some Dennis Leary rant (which wasn't really all that funny), all I'm saying is that if everybody in the world took one NyQuil Liquid Cap a day there would be no more war. I'm only 30% kidding about that. If every night you're dreaming about a rabbit with the body of a salamander (that is also you, somehow) fighting a galactic emperor in a gravel pit in an alternate dimension that is somehow also in the house your grandparents used to live in, chances are you're not going to be worrying about starting a war. Or maybe you're more likely, who knows?

To sum up my point, I love sleep. And the only thing I love more than sleep is anything that makes me sleep more.

I don't know what's in NyQuil. I'm pretty sure it's just a diluted form of whatever Bones gave Kirk to make him look dead when Kirk had to fight Spock because Spock needed to mate and went crazy and then Kirk stole his mate! That was something.

You know what I'm talking about.

I should say that Sports As Life does not endorse drug dependency, legal or otherwise - but you should definitely take NyQuil every day.












Alright, here you go:

Crank it up!!

An Off the Cuff Offseason Presents: The Continuing Misadventures of Napoleon in Rags, Vol.1 – Come on Down!

To fill some space during the offseason I’m going to be running a series of stories about the “hilarious” mishaps that I am growing ever more accustomed to. My days are generally filled with fraudulent attempts at professionalism, lame attempts at humour and staggeringly transparent attempts to fit in with the normal humans. It’s mostly gaffes, apologies and dizzying social awkwardness – just ask anyone who has had the misfortune of being romantically linked to me. Don’t worry, not everything is 100% accurate or 100% hilarious. Here is today’s installment:


The Price is Right as a Sociological Phenomenon


This one's not really a 'mis-adventure' but I don't like being constrained by labels.

In the position I currently find myself, both vocationally and geographically, I am afforded the privilege of eating lunch at home every noon hour. This is a vastly underrated event and one which I credit for 3 of my 5 remaining scraps of sanity.

However, with the Flintstones no longer offered as lunch time programming, coupled with my meager cable package, I used to struggle in finding something to watch that doesn’t include afternoon courtroom drama. That is, until I discovered that my west coast CBS station shows The Price is Right from 12-1, and in HD no less. Happier I could not have been.

I love The Price is Right. But it’s not just because I love flashing lights and guessing how much things cost, which I do. It’s also because I love the deeper social implications of this show. Let me explain in a convenient 3-part list:

1) The Price is Right is better for your body imagine than watching a six-hour marathon of The Biggest Loser. Nowadays on TV we mostly see people with bodies that you and I could never achieve, especially you. A single episode of Two and a Half Men contains more perfectly formed T&A than the word attaint (yes that is a word, yes I had to look it up, and no it doesn’t mean what you think it does). After an evening of prime time TV, if asked, I would generally rate of my level of attractiveness as falling between gargoyle and goblin, or possibly hobgoblin. However, after one hour of the Price is Right I feel 75% less grotesque. It’s refreshing to see actual, normal human beings on TV.

2) As refreshing as it is just to see regular people on TV, it's even more refreshing to see real emotion from those regular people. There are very few places in society where we're allowed to let loose with what we're feeling. Screaming at the people in front of you in line at the mall to just HURRY UP AND PAY SO WE CAN ALL GET ON WITH OUR LIVES is generally frowned upon, trust me. But on the Price is Right anything goes. Screaming, yelling, shouting, jumping, high-fiving, hugging, kissing, running around, falling down - you get it all, and in a completely natural and uncensored form. It's great.

3) The absurdity of retail pricing. I'm serious when I say the Price is Right is 35% more difficult because of the ridiculous retail pricing. Where on earth are they buying these prizes? I think the Price is Right has a special outlet store where everything is marked up 30%. $2500 for a 42 inch plasma TV? C'mon, this isn't 2002.

One more thing I should mention, and it's that I'm clearly not the target audience for the mid-morning gameshow. Commercials during the Price is Right are aimed at diabetics, geriatrics with no life insurance, and people with so many health problems they should be living in a bubble surrounded my people in HazMat suits - much like the ending of E.T. The lists of medication side effects are always my favorites; and because I want everyone to know what they're getting into, I'd like to thank you for reading this post but I should mention that reading in the future could cause: uncontrollable urge to stop reading, jimmy legs, glaucoma, earwigs, bitter regret, yellow toenails, despair, unkempt nosehair, jimmy arms, feelings of dread is your basement or attic, puppy punching, two left footedness, chemical dependency, ground beef dependency, better website dependency, boredom eating, laugh line strain (extremely rare), nausea, inability to unread what you just read, and numbness of the outer extremities.