Here's Why Sunglasses Tethers Are The Worst And More Petty Complaints

It's Wednesday, which means it's time for another edition of the column that has gotten more complaints than Kevin Patullo, The Gripe Report.

I spent a nice weekend away with my wife, and of course, while I enjoyed it, I was on the lookout for stuff to complain about.

We spent some time at Epic Universe, Universal Orlando's newest theme park, and while we were there, I became fascinated by the door-close button in the hotel's elevator.

Have a gripe? Send it in!: matthew.reigle@outkick.com

I talked about it in the Tuesday edition of Nightcaps, but here are the broad strokes: my wife reminded me of one of the many reasons I married her when she started hammering away on the elevator door-close button so that a family coming up the hallway wouldn't be able to join us for an awkward ride down to the breakfast buffet.

The door closed, but not before she had whacked the button at least a dozen and a half times, at which point the door simply closed at its standard time.

I feel like I've noticed this in many elevators, which would beg the question, if the close-door button doesn't work instantly, why have it?

I assume the button you hit to keep the door open works instantly for safety reasons. But why doesn't the door's close button get the same treatment?

I wonder how many days of my life have been wasted on a door-close button that's nothing more than a placebo.

Probably not more than one if you add it all up, but dammit, I want it back!

I've said my piece. 

We've got a grab-bag of gripes this week, with another of mine at the end, but I'll close with that.

Let's start things off with Rick…

There are monsters who walk among us and think the best place to park is right next to that red car. (Getty Images)

People Who Refuse To Give You Space

Rick sent in a couple of parking gripes about double-parking and overuse of disability spots, but this one really struck a nerve with me:

Last parking gripe I'll bother you with is that when on my own, I nearly always try to park further out where there isn't anyone else.  I like having the extra room and avoiding the jerks who will fling their doors open and scratch or dent your car.  However, what I find all too frequently (admittedly any time to too frequent but you get the point) is that when I enter the place I have no one parked in any of the 4-7 or so spaces around me, but when I return, some thoughtless tool has decided to park right next to me, typically snugged right up close against my car and has left all the other spaces vacant.  On top of that, it's usually some oversized truck or SUV that you can never see around, and yes, there are times when I get one of those on each side of me while inside with nearly all the lot still available.  What do these dirtbags even think?  Drives me nuts when I go out of my way to keep clear of this stuff, and because of stupidity, I can't. 

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I loved this gripe because I think it transcends parking.

I hate it when people do this in parking lots, but I hate it even more everywhere else.

Nothing drives me nuts quite like when I'm sitting on a bench, and someone sits on the other side of the bench, ch when a quick 180-degree T-1000 style scan of my surroundings reveals multiple unoccupied benches that this person could've taken.

For the most part, people want space. So, if there is room to maintain that space and you go, "Meh," you are the problem.

Benches, tables, parking spaces, and especially urinals.

All guys know the urinal ground rules about leaving a space unless it's impossible because of how busy the bathroom is.

I believe this is known as the "Rush Concert Rule."

"I think I've got a card in here for a free haircut… somewhere…" (Getty Images)

Grocery Store Loyalty Cards

Wayne hit us with a gripe I've been fortunate to forget about for reasons I'll get into, but it's a good one:

My gripe is supermarket loyalty cards. I know I'm not alone. I got tired of carrying all the different cards in my wallet. I photocopied all the barcodes, cut them out, taped them together, and copied that to a piece of cardstock. Now I have one card with all the barcodes, and it's in the transparent window on the outside of my wallet.

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First and foremost, this card idea is genius. 

However, I live in what is known as Publix country, and Publix doesn't do the loyalty card thing. Everyone gets the discounted price. But I still get harassed to enter my phone number every time I shop.

I don't know what they do with that phone number, but I get a free cake on my birthday every year, so I think I can deal with whatever it is.

But Wayne reminded me of loyalty cards, and I forgot the days of having a George Costanza-esque wallet bursting at the seams with cards from local grocery stores and gas stations, and even book stores for some reason.

But the thing I hate even more is the key ring cards. I moved away from Pennsylvania nearly six years ago, and I still have some local grocery store loyalty cards on my keys.

It's not to remind myself of home. If every Giant Food Store closed tomorrow, it would probably be a few weeks before I caught wind of it. And even then, I'd just be like, "How 'bout that."

Yet I still have their keychain and a bunch of others on there. I actually had to check because I thought I took them off, but nope, they're still on there. I either became keychain card-blind to them, or I'm just lazy as hell.

I like to think it's the former, but I know damn well it's the latter.

Apparently, sunglasses are flying off of people's faces. (Getty Images)

Sunglasses Tethers

Now here's a gripe to bring us home from one handsome SOB: me.

Living in Florida, I’m a big sunglasses guy. I’m not exaggerating, I don’t leave my house, whether it's to run errands, walk to the mailbox, or take my dog out for a leak, without grabbing a pair of shades until the sun has completely disappeared beneath the horizon. 

Even on overcast days, I’m throwing on some sunglasses; otherwise, I get a headache from squinting (I know that sounds super wuss-ish, but it’s true).

Still, even as a shades aficionado, I have never understood those sunglasses tethers that some people wear.

I mean, I get the basics. It’s like a leash for your sunglasses, but are people really losing their shades so much that they have to be chained around your neck?

Do people not realize that you can do a nifty little trick where you clip your glasses to the neck of your shirt? That’s my move. I’ve never lost a pair. I’ve never had them drop from my shirt, and I’ve never had them plunk into some body of water.

It was never such a concern that I felt I needed to purchase some kind of apparatus to make sure that there was absolutely no way that my sunglasses were going to fly off my face.

Maybe the idea is to protect a pair of pricey shades. I've got thoughts on this practice, though. 

I have one nice pair of sunglasses that I reserve for special occasions. Other than that, I don't think I've ever spent more than $30 on a pair. 

So maybe that's why I don't feel like I need to keep them tethered to my person. I also don't care if I drop them, toss them in the car, dive into a pool, or throw them to impress the company with how good of an arm I have.

That's my advice to all sunglass tether guys: buy some beaters so you don't feel like you have to chain them to your person.

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That's it for this week's edition of The Gripe Report. 

We've got another one coming your way next week, so be sure to send in any gripes: matthew.reigle@outkick.com