Urban Legends (2016)

urban legendI love Urban Legends.  The first time the stupid gringo couple bought that rat in Tijuana and tried to import it as a Chihuahua, I laughed myself stupid.   I always look for the dead mouse in the soda pop.  And even though I’ve never seen the Ghost Hitchhiker, I know a woman whose cousin worked with her neighbour.  The neat thing about urban legends is, like Rembrandts, it’s so easy to spot a fake.  Street gangs do not have the patience nor the elaborate forethought to drive around town with their headlights off, looking for victims.  Petty little sneak thieves don’t take the time and trouble to do unmentionable things with your toothbrush.  And regardless of how many people have declared they are Jedi on the census form, the federal government does not recognize it as an official religion.  (I checked.)  That’s why it’s so cool that the latest urban legend has surfaced as a legitimate news story.

If you missed it, too bad, but here’s the Peanut Gallery version.  Apparently, this six-figure American computer programmer, who conveniently works out of his house, decided that rather than working for a living he would pull a General Motors and outsource his job to China.  Basically, he hired a Chinese national to do his work for him — at a fifth the price.  The Chinese technician is living large in some place called Shenyang, and our boy is fat, smart and happy, getting 80% of his salary for doing nothing.  According to all reports, he spends his days watching cat videos on YouTube.  Pretty sweet, huh?

Of course, when you think about it, a bunch of WTF questions come to mind.  Like how did our American programmer find this Chinese guy in the first place?  A want ad in Wired?  Or how come the company didn’t notice when there was a daily log-on from China?  These are little things, but they raise some serious red flags (no pun intended.)  But the telling moment in the whole “news’ story is there’s no who, when or where!  The programmer, the company, the timeframe and the city are not named.  The only hard “fact,” in any of it, is Shenyang, China, and go ahead and try finding a particular programmer in that town.  There’s absolutely no way, from the information given, to check just how true this “news” story really is.

That’s the thing about Urban Legends; they seem plausible.  They could be true.  A maniacal killer could, on occasion, lurk in the back seat of a car.  Dead people could wander rainy midnight roads.  And American workers could outsource their jobs.  These things are all entirely possible; they’re just not probable.

Yet urban legends are more than simply the lies the Internet tells us.  (BTW, Dream Whip™ and ping pong balls do not have the same molecular structure, and Coca-Cola™ was never laced with cocaine.) They are contemporary fables; teaching stories and cautionary tales.  They remind us that, as Hamlet once said, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy” and tell us to be wary of our world.  For example, there’s an urban legend that Kentucky Fried Chicken changed their name to KFC because the USDA discovered that the company had genetically modified their product to such an extent that it could no longer legally be called chicken.  Apparently, Kentucky Fried Mutant would have been a marketing disaster, so they went with KFC.  This is 100% false (again, I checked.).  However, it does demonstrate that there is widespread concern about GMOs and just exactly what is happening to the food we eat.  Similarly, our enterprising computer programmer shows us that people are worried that North American jobs are, like the elves of Middle Earth, leaving these shores.

Urban legends are genuine folk tales.  Like Aesop’s fables, they give us an allegorical insight into our world and reflect contemporary concerns and attitudes.  As sophisticated as we may believe ourselves to be, we still fear the unknown.  This is why so many urban legends have a supernatural or demonic element to them.

Unfortunately, as our society gets more complex, so do our urban legends.  Real stories get mixed in with the fakes.  We might laugh at our computer programmer outsourcing his own job, but what about my sister’s gardener’s brother, who had his identity stolen when terrorists used Face-recognition software on his Facebook profile picture? Then, when he went to collect his lottery jackpot, he was arrested for terrorism…. You can never be too careful in this world.

 

5 People You’ll Meet In Hell

hell fireI don’t necessarily believe in Hell, but here are 5 people who are going to be there long before people like me ever arrive.

1 — The person at the Fast Food line who acts as if they’ve never been in that situation before.

These are the ones who stand at the counter and stare at the huge neon menu as if is it’s written in Latin.  Hey! The big difference between the #5 Hamburger Combo and the #6 Cheeseburger Meal is cheese — just cheese — and it’s been that way since 1972.  Besides, at some point, you decided to come here, you got in your car, you drove all the way, you stood in line for ten minutes and you still haven’t figured out what you want to eat?  You deserve to burn in Hell for wasting my time.

2 — Anyone who litters

People who throw their trash on the ground should be horse-whipped in this life and suffer the Fires of Hell for the rest of Eternity — twice.

3 — The parents who bring their bratty children to the theatre, the ballet or the gourmet restaurant.

I’ve got nothing against kids, but  if yours have the social graces of an exuberant orangutan, don’t  bring them to places where adults gather.  Little Braydon spitting up carrots and going for  distance might be YouTube cute at home, but my wife and I didn’t sign on for her antics added to the ambiance of our dinner, likewise, nothing ruins the enchanting beauty of a dying swan more completely than some pint-size savage three rows over suddenly howling for juice.  Your children might be the centre of your universe, but if you’ve decided not to teach them manners, you’re not doing them or the rest of the world any favours — and you’re going to Hell because of it.

4 — Accountants, computer geeks, tow-truck drivers and dentists.

These are the people with specialized skills or knowledge who take advantage of the rest of us just because they can — and then act all smug about it.  It’s a tooth for God’s sake — not the Crown Jewels. Nothing legal costs that much!  And, BTW, fat boy in the truck, my car broke down; I didn’t shoot it in the head.  The difference between Mafia extortion and what these folks do is minimal — and they’re going to have to answer for it.

And finally

5 — The people who are always getting offended.

These are the folks who are not so much easily offended as eagerly offended.  They wake up in the morning pissed off with the world and then spend the rest of the day trying to make everybody else just as miserable as they are.  There’s no satisfying these malicious bastards, and for that, they are clearly entitled to all the grief Satan has to offer.

Stupid People Declare War!

stupid peopleI’m starting to think stupid people have declared war on me.  In the last month, I’ve had three conversations that defy the laws of reasonable behaviour, and as Goldfinger once said to James Bond, “Once is happenstance.  Twice is coincidence.  Three times is enemy action.”  Could it be that stupid people have finally realized I’ve been making fun of them for years and have decided to fight back?  It looks like it.

I’ve already recounted my experience at the computer store, last week.  I’m probably prevented by law from talking about the exchange I had at Motor Vehicles, but here is the final straw that happened at a coffee shop (not a mega-brand multi-national, BTW) where I was just trying to waste some time while my ride was at the doctor.  (Again, believe it or don’t, this actually happened.)

The sign read:“Please wait to be seated”  Oops! The price of the coffee just got a little pricier.

“Hell-o.” said the girl with the judgmental smile

“Can I just get a coffee?”

“To go?”

“To stay

“We have a minimum charge during the afternoon.”

“How much?”

“$4.75”

“No worries”

“Would you like a menu?”

“No, just coffee.  Large Americano.”

“There’s a minimum charge.  $4.75.  Large Americano is only $3.99 plus tax.”

“Right.  I’ll just give you the other 75 cents — plus tax if you like.”

“We can’t do that.  It has to be a menu item.”

“Just charge me $4.75 for the coffee.  What’s the problem?”

“We can’t do that.  The cash register is coded.  It only accepts menu items.”

At this point I’m a little frustrated but still reasonable. If the computer says I can’t have a large Americano, and the chick with the judgmental smile is thinking, “Why doesn’t this old bugger just go away?” who am I to rock the boat?  However, defiantly, I sit down — $4.75 or no $4.75.

“Let’s do this: forget the large Americano.  Why don’t we …”

“I’m not trying to be a bitch.  It’s our manager’s policy so people don’t just order a small coffee and sit here all afternoon.”

Exactly my scam, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Fair enough.  I don’t think you’re a bitch.  It’s okay.  Let’s  not worry about the large Americano.  Just give me two medium Americanos.  Alright: that’s $2.99 — twice — problem solved.”

The judgmental girl held up two fingers.

“That’s…”

I can see her doing the calculations in her head.

… $9.50 (slight pause) plus tax.”

“No, $2.99 which is 3 dollars.  Right?  (big pause) Times two (even bigger pause) is six dollars.”

The judgmental girl was clearly losing her cool and started speaking to the old fella in front of her as if he was deaf, half blind, mostly stupid and had just escaped from “The Home.”

“Our minimum charge is $4.75.  $3.99 for a large Americano isn’t enough money.  It isn’t enough.  $2.99 is even less.”

“But I’m ordering two.”

“I didn’t make the policy.  My manager says ‘Our minimum charge from noon to five is $4.75.’  Here: it’s printed right on the menu.  That’s $4.75 and $4.75 (counting on her fingers) which is $9.50.”

I couldn’t help myself.

“Plus tax.”

“Plus tax.  Yes.  Okay.”

“Okay, you win.  Give me a medium Americano (big bad look from the judgmental girl) to go.”

Sigh of relief from both of us.

“I’m sorry.  It’s our manager’s policy.  I just work here.  I have to do what they tell me to.”

“No problem.  I totally understand.”

——————————

At this point, the score is Stupid People: 3 — WD Fyfe: 0.

I’ll keep you posted.