Douchebag Exemption: All Aboard Amtrak

This past weekend, I found myself acting like a complete douchebag. After careful review of the evidence, I have decided that like all rules, the rules of douchedom must have exceptions as well. 

Therfore: One can act like a douchebag when dealing with Amtrak ticket window workers.

Here's what happened. I used points to book a ticket to San Diego, but when I showed up to collect my ticket, I was told that I was traveling on a "blackout date" and I should pay up. Well, since I had an email receipt with a reservation for a free ticket, I decided I shouldn't have to pay up. 

But since I booked my ticket through Amtrak Guest Rewards, you see, the agent at the counter couldn't help me. They have no way of communicating. I had to get on the phone and call the guest rewards people myself. And so, after being told that they made an uncorrectable mistake, and me, with a train to catch and a principle to stand on - I proceeded to yell and scream and generally act like a douchebag.

And thus, be it known, you are allowed to act like a douchebag in the face of municipal bureaucracy.

Clipping Things to Your Belt

Can someone please explain why grown men clip things to their belts - when they have pockets?

Clipping the easy glide blackberry holster on is not cool. Is it really that much easier than reaching into your pocket? And don't tell me you're concerned about having lumpy things in your pocket - because if you were concerned with things like fashion and how the lump looks in your pocket, then you wouldn't clip things to your belt, would you now?

The only people who should be clipping are doctors and carpenters. Doctors with all the pagers, and carpenters with the tools. Clipping anything else makes you a tool. 

Don't even get me started on fanny packs.

Alex Rodriguez

A-Rod, A-Fraud, A-Roid...

Douchebag.

The guy is a steroid injecting, prostitute frequenting, douchebag. He cheats at and on everything. His wife. The game of baseball, not once but twice. And when he cheats at baseball, it's not savvy cheating, it's schoolyard, girly-man cheating.

Forget the he's overpaid argument. Forget that I'm a Red Sox fan. He's so self-absorbed, so concerned with his image that he will never rise above himself. He creates conflict in the clubhouse and, so long as all he cares about is his numbers - both on the field and in his wallet - the Yankees, mark my words, will never win a World Series. Not so long as he's on the team. 

Bye bye Curse of the Bambino. Hello Curse of the Douche.