What’s Your Damage? Drive By

People are strange, and no one knows it better than Heather, our resident smart-mouthed, drink-slingin’, sociologist. Join her adventures in the ridiculous, hilarious, and grotesque, on a quest to understand just what makes us Bay Area weirdos tick.

Vol. 5: Drive By

When I’m driving down a busy road and the light is clearly green and someone is sauntering across the street, clearly not obeying the don’t walk sign or color of traffic lights, can I speed up to try and teach them a lesson?
— 4Run’er Over in Oakland

Dear 4Run’er Over,
While I’m slightly horrified that you’re inquiring about justification for inciting the fear of death in someone, I empathize that pedestrians can be amazingly oblivious in the crosswalk. It’s frustrating when someone walks into the intersection just as the light is changing, but to do so at a leisurely pace, especially if they’re on a cell phone, that’s just narcissistic foolishness. Now, no one likes to knock an egomaniac off a pedestal more than I do. But before you get all revved up calculating how many points you could get for hitting homie, consider this:

According to the California Department of Motor Vehicles, an act such as this could cost you up to $1000 in fines, or worse, land you in state prison for up to six months (ouch on many fronts). That doesn’t sound worth it at all! Especially if said pedestrian gets to sit on the sidewalk and laugh as you get chastised by Officer Nasty.

There’re bound to be a lot of readers who would insist “pedestrians always have the right of way,” but that’s just not the case. Drivers are expected to yield (obviously) to people in the road, but that doesn’t mean pedestrians can cross on the red, or jaywalk. Still, the fact remains that San Francisco doesn’t have a very good track record when it comes to walking around safely—per capita, it’s rated as the fourth most dangerous city in the nation for pedestrians.

Still not inspired to join a pedestrian advocacy group? Perhaps the best alternative then is to teach them a lesson by killing them with kindness. After years of working in customer service, you learn the art of telling a pompous ass to kiss yours in a way that makes them initially swoon with delight, only to realize moments later what you were really implying. Enthusiastically invite the pedestrian to slow down and take their time. When you gain their attention, give them two thumbs up and a big smile.

Whatever you do, resist the urge to lay on the horn. No other single act can simultaneously throw everyone in a two-block radius into a cataclysmic frenzy. Besides, we live in a city of constant sirens—please don’t add to the noise.

Good luck sharing the road!
- Heather

Baffled by Bay Area life? Send your questions to heather@culturcosm.com and get some answers for once!

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What’s Your Damage? No Harm in Asking

People are strange, and no one knows it better than Heather, our resident smart-mouthed, drink-slingin’, sociologist. Join her adventures in the ridiculous, hilarious, and grotesque, on a quest to understand just what makes us Bay Area weirdos tick.

Vol. 4: No Harm in Asking

“Why won’t people stand on the right side of the escalator so I can hot-foot it down the left side and not miss my BART train? Why do people stand in the doorways on Muni forcing me to elbow my way out the door at my stop? How much should I tip my cab driver and can I dock his tip for driving too slow or being too chatty? How do I get my ex-boyfriend to stop calling me at 1am?”

Are these the kind of questions you find rolling around in your head as you trip through life around the Bay Area? Whatever you’re wondering about, I want to know… what’s your damage?

When I’m not busy solving SF’s greatest sociological mysteries, I’d love to help you find the answers to your burning questions about Bay-Area life.

Send your questions to heather@culturcosm.com and get some answers for once!

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What’s Your Damage? Beat the Brats

People are strange, and no one knows it better than Heather, our resident smart-mouthed, drink-slingin’, sociologist. Join her adventures in the ridiculous, hilarious, and grotesque, on a quest to understand just what makes us Bay Area weirdos tick.

Vol. 3: Beat the Brats

As a seasoned “bar maid,” I have learned to gloss over a lot of behavior when it comes to the folly of the drunken fool. Building beer can pyramids, eating olives from the fruit tray for dinner, leaving gum and snot filled napkins on the bar counter—it all comes with the territory. Yes even you bro, the one who locked yourself in the ladies restroom for 45 minutes and finally made us break the door down, only to find you passed out on the toilet, pants around your ankles, covered in vomit, even your antics do not surprise me. But one thing that still drives me into sass-attack is the lack of consideration some people have for those who facilitate their good time. Be it bartenders, food servers, cab drivers, or otherwise, a little respect goes a long way. As the saying goes “you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”
nellyCase in point: While waiting for the ladies room during a brief lull on a busy Saturday night, Princess Hauteur walked up and proceeded to cut in front of me. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I put my hand on the door and told her I was waiting. To my surprise, the little rat chick proceeded to try and claw my hand off the door and said, “I’m going in.” Stunned, I replied with “No, you’re not. I’m next, and who in baby Jesus’ manger do you think you are?!” Her unceasing determination led me to lady-handle her, pinning her flailing arms down and calling for backup. When my coworker responded, the evil one innocently insisted that she had done nothing wrong and then flashed me an “F you, I’m getting away with it” smile. He quickly realized what I was dealing with, and kicked her out.

If Little Miss Entitled had an ounce of civility she could have enjoyed the rest of the night at her will. Instead she was thrown out. Staying un-86’d, especially from a lenient bar like mine, is not that difficult. Needless to say, a simple “please” and “thank you” go a long way, but here are a few additional tips to ensure limitless belly-up time:

1. Exercise patience. Wait your turn for the restroom, to order your drink (no, “hey bartender,” snapping, or whistling) or to close out your tab. Your zen-like disposition will be noticed, and you’ll likely be served before the guy/girl waving their hands to get attention.

2. Do not come into a crowded bar if you’re going to get testy when someone bumps into you. Unless you’re looking for a fight, and in that case, you’re a d-bag anyway, and you should throw yourself out. By the same token, when you’re in a crowded bar, try to be considerate of your fellow patrons and don’t pour beer on them.

3. Do not sleep on the bar. If you can’t keep your eyes open or hold your head up, please go home. I promise, you won’t miss a thing.

4. Do not drink yourself to the point that you purge. This is not a hot look for you. Furthermore, I will forever associate you with vomit.

5. Do not ask the bartender for cocaine. I am not a dealer of illegal substances. You’ve been watching too much Law and Order if you seriously think there’s some shady under-the-table drug slangin’ goin’ on that you can get in on.

So don’t let poor taste in bar etiquette ruin your reputation. Though we live in a crowded city, it’s only 7 miles square, so you never know when or where you might see someone again. Coming from a small town in the middle of nowhere, I’m constantly surprised that I can run into someone I know whether it be in China Basin or Chinatown. I’m just sayin… I hope I’m lucky enough to run into Princess Hauteur on Union Street one day!

Got any good stories about bad behavior? Comment and tell me all about it!

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What’s Your Damage? He Won’t Grow Up

People are strange, and no one knows it better than Heather, our resident smart-mouthed, drink-slingin’, sociologist. Join her adventures in the ridiculous, hilarious, and grotesque, on a quest to understand just what makes us Bay Area weirdos tick.

Vol. 2: He Won’t Grow Up

“I know he used to do nice stuff for you, but what has he done for you late-ly?!”
Listen up ladies! The 1986 prepubescent YOU may have been too busy rockin’ out to Janet Jackson to heed her warning about deadbeat boys. But I’m here to remind you: you’re hot, smart, unique, and classy—one of the Bay Area’s finest. You deserve a man who compliments you in all your grandeur. If your guy seems a little less commitment-oriented and a lot more K-Fed, he may be suffering from a Peter Pan Complex.

peter_pan6Peter Pan Complex:  A man who refuses to grow up—a metaphor for childishness.

But just because your guy isn’t altar and baby ready right now doesn’t mean he never will be. I’ve often heard the Bay Area referred to as Never Never Land because it seems we wait longer on average to do those things. Taking it slow is good. Holding you back is not! So, how can you be sure that you have a Peter Pan on your hands before you kick him to the curb? Try asking yourself:

How does he treat you?
Does he complain that you’re acting more like his mother than his girlfriend when you ask him for the rent that he’s owed you for the past few months? (Ya think there’s a correlation to the “mother” card and Peter Pans? I’m just sayin’…)

What are his interests?
Do you come home to find him passed out on the couch next to his vaporizer, encrusted in Cheetos, and smelling like Shlitz more often than you find him preparing your favorite dinner or anything else that truly turns you on?

How does he carry himself?
Does he don a popped collar (or two) and introduce himself with a fist bump?  Does he refuse to replace those old holey boxers because his, “mama always sends new ones ‘round the holidays”?

If any of this sounds familiar, run for the hills sister!  There, there. I know it’s a kick in the lady balls when you realize one day that you’re dating a Peter Pan. And you may be inclined to say, “But Heather! I looooove him!” I know you do. But back away Mary Kay! Unfortunately, you can’t change a Peter Pan into a man. Try, and you risk being the quintessential nag, and that just won’t do—you classy lady, you. Don’t sell yourself short—go get yourself a grown-up guy!

Are you a recovered Wendy or know someone with a Peter Pan on her hands? Comment and tell me your anti-fairytale stories!

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What’s Your Damage? PDA Pitfalls and Pointers

People are strange, and no one knows it better than Heather, our resident smart-mouthed, drink-slingin’, sociologist. Join her adventures in the ridiculous, hilarious, and grotesque, on a quest to understand just what makes us Bay Area weirdos tick.

Vol. 1: PDA Pitfalls & Pointers

I’m no stranger to PDA.  After all, I work in a bar, and other than back alleys off of Lower Polk at 3AM, bars are the breeding ground for PDA (public displays of affection). There is a gradation when it comes to PDA, and I’ve witnessed the whole range, from softly whispered sweet nothings like, “Baby” or “My beautiful snack pack,” and innocent kisses on the cheek, to under-the-table diddling and dry humping against the jukebox.

As an expert on the matter, I present to you, Heather’s Spectrum of PDA:

Tolerable: Your lover (or hook up du jour…I don’t judge) occasionally planting one on your closed lips as he/she brushes your knee ever so subtly and looks longingly into your glossed over eyes (a ten second rule applies).

Intolerable: It’s safe to say that if any boldily fluid is exchanged it has gone too far.

Downright raunchy: Hands in inappropriate places. If that’s your thing, well, we live in the sexiest city in the west so there are places for that.

To avoid the urge of becoming the voyeuristic pleasure dome of all the other drunk patrons, stick to the bartenders rule:  I don’t drink in your bedroom, so don’t F… in my bar. I’m just saying… No one wants to see your fast track to Randy Town.  And lets be honest, the only positive that can come of this is that you’ve given old drunk Pervy Perverson a little material to work with later.

holdinghands-041That said, I don’t completely vilify PDA.  I admit I’m a new recruit myself. I may be jaded from the annoyance of all the sloppy bar sessions I’ve witnessed, but well, there’s this new guy…  I’ve never been one for even an innocent hand holding, but as of late I’ve found myself engaged in said act right in front of everyone, quickly releasing with a sassy, “Uh… I don’t do that, sorry”, only to find myself unconsciously having grabbed his hand yet again.  Not only have I have accepted my condition, I’m actually starting to enjoy it.

So if you’re like me, twitterpated and unable to keep your hands off that special someone, take your horniness out of the bar and take advantage of some of these PDA-friendly hot spots instead: Take a hike through Lands End and find a sweet nook in the wind-blown Cypress.  If you’re more of a concrete dweller, there are more than 350 stairways around the city that offer romance-inducing views.  Oakland’s recently renovated Fox Theater is a sultry date spot to get you in the mood, and only a 20-minute walk to Lake Merritt for some by-the-water sexy time.

Spread the love! (But not while I’m pouring you a drink.)

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Heather has an urge to purge

heatherjaymes_150x150Culturcosm will soon be featuring the fiery insights of Heather Jaymes as our resident social commentator.

Heather is a former student of sociology, currently conducting field research in human behavior as a local San Francisco bartender.

Wishing she had a hidden camera to capture the, at times, mind-blowing idiocy of the common man, she makes the best of it by repeating the cheesy pick-up lines she hears at her bar. When she’s not slingin’ drinks, you’ll find her trekking around the city slangin’ sassy attitude.

Make Heather your new guilty pleasure starting this Tuesday!