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Another week, another fresh-baked batch of gripes in a brand-new edition of The Gripe Report.

I’ve been trying to go for walks lately to get a little exercise. I figured it would be a good way to stay healthy and keep my blood pressure in check given that a big part of what I do for a living is complaining about things.

However, my attempt at a healthy, calm lifestyle caused me to find another thing to complain about.

Have a gripe? Sent it in!: mattreigleoutkick@gmail.com

So, I usually go for walks before work and walk through nearby neighborhoods. This means that when I’m doing my thing around 9 in the morning, kids are going to school.

No problem. Education is a good thing. It teaches kids calculus they’ll never use.

What bothers me is that every single kid is on an electric scooter.

I don’t know when the switch happened, but it wasn’t that long ago that I was in school, and if you weren’t riding the bus, getting a ride from your parents, or driving yourself then you walked or rode a bike. The old-fashioned kind. Not a penny farthing, but like a Huffy or a Schwinn or a Mongoose (I had a Mongoose. One day I ate a plate of s–t because the pedal fell off out of nowhere. Great bike).

Not these kids. They’re all on electric scooters or electric bikes where so they can expend as little energy as humanly possible.

This scooter is probably going to come within inches of a very handsome writer just trying to get some steps in before he spins some internet gold. (Photo by Tobias SCHWARZ / AFP) (Photo by TOBIAS SCHWARZ/AFP via Getty Images)

What bugs me the most is that these kids love nothing more than buzzing the tower when I’m out walking. I’ll be on a wide sidewalk with earbuds in, listening to a podcast or bobbing my head to some tunes, when some psycho kid comes flying by like George Jetson with no concept of personal space.

I don’t know if kids are emerging from the womb on scooters these days or what, but every kid seems to have one.

However, I will concede that I’d rather that be the case than just have hundreds of those rentable scooters strewn all over creation.

I get wanting to get from A to B as soon as possible, so all I’m asking is for scooter riders to show an ounce of courtesy to the handsome writer who is taking a shame walk after eating Chick-fil-A twice the day before.

This guy got clean hands but everyone within four yards of him look like they just got off of a log flume. (Getty Images)

Automatic Sinks

Let’s turn things over to Aaron who has a gripe that can be found in bathrooms all across this great nation of ours.:

I have a gripe regarding public restrooms.  I’ve heard plenty of complaints about automatic toilets that flush when you move half a millimeter and splash crappy toilet water all over you, and I’ve heard complaints about being scalded by the water from automatic sinks that you can’t adjust the temperature for, but here’s one I don’t think I’ve heard:  Automatic sinks that shoot water out like a firehose and it splashes off of your hands and all over you, the counter, the mirror, and anyone within a 10-foot radius.  Who calibrates these things?  It’s automatic so you can’t adjust the flow.  There’s nothing you can do about it.  You can either be a disgusting slob and not wash your hands, or walk out with a wet shirt looking like you peed yourself.

…

I feel like I say this a lot: I’m not a big fan of government regulation… but this should be regulated.

That’s because you sometimes wind up with a faucet that shoots out like it’s coming out the back of a jet ski. Call me crazy if you must, but I firmly believe that we should be able to wash our hands without feeling like we need to throw on a poncho like we’re in Shamu’s splash zone.

A sink shouldn’t have a blast radius. Water should come out of it with enough pressure so that you can clean your filthy hands, but it doesn’t need to be forceful enough to combat a wildfire.

The one thing I do like about forceful sinks is that it gives you some plausible deniability. If you’re out somewhere and you go to the urinal where someone bumps into you or you yawn or you just lose control of yourself (it happens) and some residual splash-back winds up on your Levi’s, that’s what the high-powered sink is for.

They’re common enough that everyone rolls with it. Watch:

“Hey Matt, you’ve got a piss stain on your paints.”

“Oh… no, it’s just the sink in there goes off like a firehose.”

“Ah, gotcha…”

“Yup… sucker…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

End Scene…

While there is some use for the rocker-powered faucet, I don’t like that public sinks force you to play a game of Russian roulette in which every sink in which water is either blasting out, trickling out, or just completely not working.

I feel like I can count on one hand how many times I’ve encountered a Goldielocks faucet out in the wild. I had one at Costco and it was like having my hands at Versailles. 

Actually, I bet the plumbing at Versailles isn’t even that great.

Some lady yammering away on speakerphone in a car dealership waiting room is terrible, but maybe not as bad as eating ramen with your hands. (Getty Images)

Is This The Most Gripeable Woman Ever?

Our pal, William — who we know abhors Crocs with socks — wrote in with a boots-on-the-ground report of someone who could be the most gripeable human being ever:

You gotta be kidding me I’m at the car dealership watching a woman eat her damn ramen noodles with her damn hands. Also has her damn phone on speaker phone and they are bitching about their damn lives. Also, she is WEARING CROCS AND SOCKS in the damn rain. Since when is any of this acceptable? 

…

Oh. My. God.

The ramen with the hands. The speakerphone in a car dealership waiting room. The Crocs with socks (although some don’t have an issue with that).

She’s a walking edition of The Gripe Report unto herself.

Let’s address the ramen-eating elephant in the room first… 

Never mind that eating ramen with your hands is just downright piggish behavior, does this lady not have feeling in her hands? If you’re over-eager to take a bite of ramen you can easily wind up burning yourself and walking around for the next couple of days with that weird loose skin on the roof of your mouth (I hate that). This lady must have insane calluses on her hands if this is normal behavior for her.

However, I am inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the car dealership put out packets for ramen, but she only realized after she had made it in the complimentary microwave that there were no utensils. This is such a car dealership move. They puff their chests out about all the amenities of their waiting room and then you get in there it’s re-runs of Deal or No Deal and a pack of crackers.

Either offer real food or don’t, and, if you do, make sure you supply the necessary tools.

Then there’s the talking on speakerphone in a waiting room. This makes me think that eating the ramen by hand was a choice.

And the Crocs and socks? So what if she’s a woman who likes to be comfortable while she irritates everyone around her and eats noodles with her fingers?

…

That’s it for this week’s edition of The Gripe Report. We’ll reconvene next week for another batch of gripes.

Want in? Send me your gripes!: mattreigleoutkick@gmail.com