Tag Archives: rudeness

How to Bomb Out on Dating Sites

dating, love, dating sites, sex, men, chatting

Creative Commons by Motoyen (Flickr)

I’m in a state of singlehood at the moment, which some liken to being a leper while others might see as being a lion amongst a herd of gazelles. People often have different requirements on a dating site. Some want short-term dating, some long-term leading to a permanent relationship. Others want casual companions or to hook up with a bed buddy for the night. In the last situation you might start your online chat with, “Do you like it doggy style?”

But for me, there is no faster turnoff than a guy who doesn’t bother to chat about life, the universe and other intriguing things (notice I didn’t say “everything”) but instead begins with “I’m very physical. I like to cuddle/neck/be oral/snuggle/have a high libido/enjoy holding hands. What do you like?” To me, it’s rude and crass. Stick it in your profile, if you must. Often, we haven’t exchanged names yet so it’s like a guy on the street flashing open his trenchcoat.

If you met someone at a friend’s dinner party, would you start out saying, “Do you like it hard and fast or slow and soft?” Perhaps it’s suitable in some cases but in most it would be crossing a line way too soon. And without the benefit of alcohol when online (I presume here) it’s certainly a rude slap. A guy that starts with the 20 questions about sex may as well stick a picture of his penis up online as well. And if that’s all he can really think of to talk about he should just say he’s looking for sex. I couldn’t lose interest faster.

The other way to bomb in the dating field is to do another twenty questions about the age and ethnicity of guys I’ve dated. It’s one thing to know if I would date someone younger or older than me but another to want me to list their nationalities. In my bomb shelter I will hide from the barrage of such questions and wonder what the reason for asking is. If I’m willing to talk to a person younger or older and of any color it already shows I’ll likely date them. Listing every nationality or religion is bizarre.

I’d prefer not to be bombed with a multitude of questions but to trade questions and answers back and forth, even discussions about life and interests. Guys like the top two examples make me think they wouldn’t be good dating material because in one way or another they’re more hung up on sex than on relationships and on who to date by looks than just who is compatible. I do believe sex is part of a good partnership but it’s not all. If it was, I wouldn’t worry about being single or not. A great mind is more likely to get me into bed than a sex fiend is.

If you’re a guy or a woman and you think you’d like a relationship but all you can think to talk about is sex then I would suggest learning how to carry a conversation. You certainly don’t want to arrow in on the genitals in the first few chats online with someone. Unless a relationship is established, to me, it will always be crass. Those intimate questions are better left to discussions in person. If all you want is to have online sex, go for it. Just don’t bother chatting with me. Forget about love; let’s start with a decent conversation.

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The Work Less Party Works Less

In BC, the Work Less Party was a group of slightly organized people who wanted to move the work week to 32 hours. They began in 2003 and actually had a few candidates in 2005, but after that the Party dwindled. Part of the party’s mandate was to have more fun. And like our Rhino party of yesteryear they were never taken that seriously, even by themselves. They were de-registered this summer and no longer exist as a political party, but the party goes on.

It is now a big party. If you check out the site with the lofty ideals, it hasn’t been updated since 2008. http://www.worklessparty.org/ And if you find the party site, it hasn’t been updated since March. Considering they just had a party this weekend you can see how working less doesn’t always work. http://www.worklessparty.org/party/party.htm I imagine there is a Facebook page, with most of the details but I try to avoid too much FB as being a great resource suck when it comes to parties.

I had gone to two parties before and they were definitely an excuse to dress in wild costumes or work on your Hallowe’en outfit before the big weekend. But what do you get? They take place in a giant auditorium–you know the style, from your school days–with a stage and a big empty hall. There are no chairs so don’t dream on sitting down. There are usually a few completely lame booths that nobody seems to attend. I’ve seen the hugging booth, the spanking booth, the chillout booth, etc. You must buy tickets to get your booze and then get in the lineup and hope there is any.

There is usually a costume and body painting contest, and  while this is on the stage, if you’re not six-feet tall you’ll probably only see the back of someone’s head or glimpse the outfits. What I have seen of the body painting is quite stunning and may involve dancing, skits or acrobatics. There is also an upstairs area that is smaller and more festive in look, with a DJ.

I found after two of these parties with 500 plus people that it was just a crush of incredibly rude and self-serving party-goers. There are  stairs to the other floor and people stop and chat or just get stuck in the jam. I said excuse me as I tried to squeeze past the people coming down. I mean, it’s what people do, right? Try to be polite? But no, I was dissed for doing so and someone said nasty things that I won’t repeat.

As for the alcohol, if you drink only beer, you’re okay. But last time they ran out of wine and cider by 11:00 pm. The lineups are long and everyone is out for themselves, suspiciously eying the person behind them who is pushing forward. Most of all you can expect a crush of costumed humanity at this party. After two of them I left feeling quite bored. I swore off of going to the giant cattle pen.

However, a friend was having a birthday and she really wanted to go with a group of people. There were probably about 15 of us and I finally buckled and went. I made the mistake of wearing a dress that had a train, and even though I had that pinned up it began to drag through the night. The floor was a morass of slimy mud from the rain. Slippery and treacherous, so one had to be careful moving through the crowds. And crowds. There is this narrow hallway that you must enter through and as we first arrived, we stood off to the side as many people do. But that did not stop people from bulldozing us down. I had to fix the pin on my dress and someone pushed me. I said hey, and the guy told me I was taking up too much space. Really, I can only take up the space that my body requires. Not even five minutes into the place and the attitudes began. I called him an asshole and pushed him out of the way telling him that he was too tall and taking up too much space.Yeah, I gave it back but I’d already been pushed five times.

That’s one reason I hate the Work Less party, because any thin excuse for manners goes out the door. To complicate matters, the disorganizers chose to put the ticket sales on one side of the entry door and the tables for getting your alcohol on the other, causing long lines that people must push through. When I got to the alcohol , I stood there for almost ten minutes with a whole bunch of people as every server was juggling getting drinks. Granted those poor folks are volunteers but some foreplanning would have helped, like a couple of people pouring and others serving. And when I asked what else there was besides beer there was only rum or vodka, with no mix, served in giant cups. Very mickey mouse.

The dancing was fun with pretty good DJ action, and we planted ourselves in one spot to help avoid the giant crush of people. But some doofus must have thought it funny to pull the fire alarm. Try to get over 500 drinking people out of a hall where at first we couldn’t hear the alarm. But we had to exit, with no place to put your drink. The bouncers said, you have to exit but you can’t take your drink so chug it. Pure rum or vodka? No thanks. Then the alarm went off and everyone went back in but the firemen had not been through, so then we got to exit again. Good fun, that.

I can’t say that the lack of adequate alcohol, the more and more disorganization, the giant crowd (and I hate crowds) and the uber rudeness encouraged me to ever go again. The Work Less party could do with a bit of working better.

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Buy at Sears, But Only If You Want Attitude

The first time I had problems with Sears, I eventually let it go even though I didn’t shop in the store for a year. In this day when there are so many stores, really it’s quality and service that make the difference. And so it is that I am not waiting for the three strikes you’re out. Two is enough.

The first time, I was shopping in Sears (in Vancouver) and picking up a few skirts to try on. This woman comes up to me and snatches the skirts from my hand, saying “You’re dragging them on the floor and they’re getting all dirty.” I looked at her flabbergasted and walked out. I was also looking for a winter coat but didn’t bother at that point.

These skirts may have been touching the floor but surely the store is kept relatively clean. The better thing to do would have been to ask me if she could start a fitting room or hang the clothes up in the fitting room. After all, that is not only service but protecting the merchandise. This woman said nothing about even putting them in a room for me and snatched them out of my hand. And yes, she was a worker there. I didn’t appreciate being treated like a child.

I tried after that to find an address to send a letter of complaint. Do you think I could find a corporate address or even a local address with the name of any manager attached? Not a one. Sears made it pretty much impossible to do anything farther than complain verbally and we know how far that goes. Well, it threw me off shopping there again.

Now I don’t shop a lot at Sears anyways. The fashions are often not that interesting and it’s only a rare occasion where I will. This year I needed to buy a new winter coat and after much searching, found one I liked at, of all places, Sears. It was on sale too, making it just right.

Unfortunately, I was in a parkade three weeks after buying the coat and chlorine or bleach fell on the collar and took out some of the color. The company responsible for the parkade is willing to pay for repairs. However, no one dies polyester (I thought the coat was wool…oops) so the company will have to replace the coat.

I bought it on sale but it may not be on sale anymore. So I call Sears. First on their customer service line the person keeps saying, You want to order a coat. No, no I want a quote on the cost of the coat. You want to place an order? No, I want to know how much it would cost to get the coat replaced. It’s a coat. Yes a coat. So it’s a jacket. Well, no it’s a coat, just above the knees. You want us to pay for the coat? No. You want to order a coat?  No. I’ll pass you on to our customer service, (I HAD dialled customer service) who then of course passed me on to retail customer service.

So I begin a third time to say, I was in a parkade and the coat was damaged. I need a quote on the replacement cost of the coat so the company can replace it. You were in our parkade? No, just a parkade, not Sears. I just need a quote on replacing the coat for what it sells for retail. You bought it damaged? No, Sears isn’t at fault. I bought it and then it was damaged after. But you bought it on sale. Yes but if it’s not on sale, they will have to replace it at the higher cost. It was damaged by chlorine in a parkade. How did you get chlorine on it? (Not that it’s any of their business.) It dripped on the coat. I’m not asking Sears to replace it. The company will do that. Well you have your receipt. But the receipt has the sale price. Is the coat still on sale? I don’t know (of course not, she hasn’t even asked me what the coat it is…we’re still haggling).

You have your receipt. Yes, but if the coat isn’t on sale then I need to give the company the replacement cost to replace this coat. You’ll have to buy a different one at a higher price. No, I want to get this coat so can’t you send the cost of what the coat is retail? No. Why not? Because that’s not what you bought it for. It’s not what you paid. (I’m now getting mad because she’s saying I’m trying to cheat.) It doesn’t matter what I bought it for. I’m not trying to cheat here. I need to give them the replacement cost. But you didn’t buy it for that. No I didn’t. Why can’t you say, I bought it for this amount but the regular retail is this amount? Because that’s not what you paid.

I don’t think you understand how replacement cost works. Yes I do. No. Replacement cost means the cost it would be to replace the coat, not what it was when I bought. If it’s not still on sale then it would need to be replaced at the regular price. But that’s not what you paid. You’re right it’s not. Is the coat going to be on sale three weeks later? I doubt it so how is the company going to replace it if it’s regular price? You’ll have to pay more. (It’s not up to Sears to decide who pays or not but getting them to give the full rate replacement is just not happening.)

I’m afraid after this I said, You know I’ve had problems with Sears before and this just seals it. This isn’t good customer service and I won’t be shopping there again. She said something else and I called her a bitch. I was boiling by now because she decided I was swindling someone. Obviously this woman has never had insurance with replacement cost included. I found it interesting from the moment I called and mentioned damage all she could hear was damage on Sears property or damage by Sears even though I said they weren’t at fault.

I’d write a letter to Sears corporate office but that would mean trying to find an address and the name of someone to send it to. Not likely, so I’ll vote with my bucks and go elsewhere. And it looks like there are enough other people disgruntled with Sears. I’m just glad I didn’t but a large appliance.

http://www0.epinions.com/content_215301262980/show_~allcom

http://www.my3cents.com/search.cgi?criteria=SEARS

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A Fairy Tale About Umberto

Here is a fairy tale about a man, let’s say an Italian man from Tuscany because Italians are known for cooking. Let’s say this man, we’ll call him Umberto because that’s a good, meaty Italian name, had learned to cook at his mama’s side (or at least eaten the savory tidbits) and had pulled himself up by his bootstraps. He had once been a busboy. Busboys are little better than slaves; they get paid but no one really respects them and so, like the grime of morsels left on the plates, Umberto held a piece of shame and anger in his heart. 

Umberto worked hard in his native country, moving on to better jobs and bigger cities. He may even have learned how to cook professionally. Eventually, because he was a young man and therefore had the good looks of youth, and an Italian man and therefore his accent was attractive in foreign countries, he managed to woo a woman. It’s possible that he did love her in the first heat of romance. But that woman had more than looks to tie that nuptial knot. She had money and she believed in Umberto and his dream.

She married him and so he embarked on a new path, a culmination of years of work and being in the restaurant business. He became a restaurateur, not just a cook or a chef and opened his first restaurant. Umberto was now king, reigning over the ingredients of Italian cooking, making an atmosphere fit for kings and queens. Well, if not kings and queens, at least celebrities and many were known to come to the West Coast where the clime suits their complexion and temperament better.

Umberto’s success was great and he opened several more restaurants, all Italian but each with a slightly different flavor. But Umberto forgot his roots and his mother would have rolled in her grave had she heard what he became. It wasn’t that being a bigwig restaurant owner was a bad thing but it was the way he treated people. In public Umberto wined and dined and smiled charmingly at his guests. He helped buy his popularity. In private his darker side came out.

Umberto thought himself very attractive and expected women to swoon and all lowly workers to bow low and be cowed by his mighty business savvy (fueled by his wife’s purse strings). But Umberto forgot that lowly workers observed his overly friendly and touchy way with the restaurant hostess. It wasn’t long before everyone knew that he was having an affair with the woman. But lowly workers who want to keep their jobs keep their noses out of their bosses’ affairs.

Umberto set unrealistic demands on his staff. First was the unwritten rule that all be awed in his aura. In one restaurant there was a small lounge where food was also served, as well as drinks. The two young ladies that worked there were expected to take the orders for the full lounge, make and serve all the drinks, as well as take the food orders and make the salads and serve those. If someone from the restaurant wanted a special drink, then the two waitresses were expected to make those too. Needless to say they were very busy.

Umberto also had a plan. It required exact proportions and measurements for meals. The waitresses were told to put two slices of tomato on each salad. No more. No less. One waitress, as young as the other, felt that a person needed to achieve respect, not pay for it nor have it because of more money. She worked hard and diligently but did not feel cowed by the mighty Umberto. Well one day, she was called by the maitre d and told she was let go because she put too many (or too few) slices of tomato on a salad and some rich thing complained. Umberto set his minion to do the dirty work.

The waitress felt this was very unfair as she was only following instructions and had been polite to the customers, so she went down to talk to the mighty Umberto. All the while that she was in his office talking to him, he would barely look at her or answer her concerns. Finally she blurted in frustration, I think you don’t like me and you can just f**k off.

She left and many waiters who also worked at the restaurant were thrilled that she told him off because they felt the same way but didn’t want to lose their jobs. She also worked at another Umberto restaurant where she was hostess and which claimed to have self-autonomy from Umberto’s rules. However the next day she received a call telling her not to come in. So she went to the restaurant and recorded all the hours she had worked, including all the overtime that they had not paid her. They asked why she was doing this and she replied, Because of Umberto. She took them to labor relations and was paid a year in backpay for overtime.

Another worker, also fired unfairly, had a friend who was a lawyer and took Umberto to small claims court. The young waitress went as a witness but the other worker won because Umberto sent his minion. She felt great joy at this and though for many years entertained thoughts of keying Umberto’s red sports car (you know the type that says you’re over the hill but trying to be sexy to the babes) decided he was too much a bug to warrant her attention.

Well years passed and the young waitress, like many previous Umberto workers, went on to better jobs. Umberto got richer but his temper was like a pot left on to boil. It continued, his pomposity rose higher than a souffle and he divorced his first wife. He married his second, opened more restaurants and a cooking school. He also took some of his roots back to his home country and opened a hotel there.

But one thing never changed, his bad as fish left out for two weeks temper, nor his attitude to staff who he saw as servants in his various castles. Much went unnoticed by the rich or adoring public but once in a while Umberto would blow his top, as he did in his new ski resort restaurant. And once in a while a worker would sue and win to the tune of nearly $100,000 but what’s that to a king? The moral of this fairy tale. The good often go unheard or noticed if they’re menial laborers and the bad are often rich. However, the rich would get way more if they were nice. Oh and watch out for characters with cool Italian names like Umberto.

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Driving Me Crazy: Driver Etiquette

I really think that there are way too many people on the road these days who shouldn’t be there, who don’t know how to drive or who have forgotten or who have become just plain dangerous. What’s the solution? Have them do a driver’s test every year? Well, that would raise the cost of our licenses and everyone would study up (which would help) but it doesn’t mean they would drive better the rest of the time. So, I’m not sure what the solution is. Spy drivers? Increase fines for when you’re caught? But fines, like death, are something that people think will never happen to them.

Our cities are too congested, our roadways inadequate for the commuting, our public transit inefficient or too expensive for many commuters, our homes too expensive and so people buy further and further out. This all leads to people going long distances, speeding, feeling pressured, working too much and getting angry. Governments need to take a far ranging approach but also every person has to take responsibility for their own actions.

Here are some of the purely insane or stupid things I’ve seen drivers do. If you’re reading this, I hope you won’t/don’t do these or will consider not continuing to do them.

  • Changing lanes into a turning lane and then signal. Duh, it’s obvious once you’re in the turning lane that you’re going to turn. Let’s look at the word “signal.” What does it mean? If you signal someone or something you are attracting attention and letting someone know you’re going to do something. A turning signal lets people know you’re going to turn or change lanes. You use it before you move into another lane, not after. And as the bumper stickers say, it is not an option. It’s the law. If you signal that you’re changing lanes it lets the drivers around you know that you may be changing speed and merging. The signal should blink at least three times (not a half-blip) before you do any lane change or turn, giving everyone enough time to react properly. It’s done for safety and to avoid accidents. 
  • Speeding up to not let people in. I watched a guy in rush-hour traffic yesterday as all of us crept along. He would leave a big space in front of his car, but when a car signalled properly that it was going to change lanes and then merged into the empty spot, the guy sped up and honked his horn at the car, then of course veered into the HOV lane without signalling (and a single driver). Remember this, folks. No one is ever first on the road. It’s a long asphalt snake with no beginning and no ending (more or less) and there is always someone ahead of you and behind you. Try some courtesy and it might be returned. It’s give and take; if someone signals and gives enough time, let them in, and if you are the one signalling don’t cut off a car coming up quickly. Oh, and if someone does let you in, do signal them with a wave of thanks. It’s the polite thing to do.
  • Sideswiping and crowding. I’ve been nearly pushed into the retaining wall on the highway when I was already on the exit ramp and a truck came over from the next lane into me. I honked and he just kept coming, pushing me onto the shoulder. I’ve had some insane woman nearly crush me because I was coming from a merging lane, signalling, and she wouldn’t let me in, willing to risk damage. Another guy one night, when the highway was empty, came into my lane and pushed me toward the retaining wall. Why? I don’t get this at all. Where do you think people should go? We can’t disapparate.
  • Insane road rage. But perhaps the above is just another sign of road rage. Like the time I was in the curb lane with cars parked beside me. A car stopped in front of me, a taxi I think, to let someone out. The car behind me blared his horn. Then after the car in front of me turned off, that car followed me with his lights on high. I’m still not sure how I was supposed to do anything else.
  • Street racing: we can blame car companies partly for the increase in this. Ads always declare the cars fast and sexy. And yeah, young guys have to prove they’re cool by racing but it’s absolutely unsafe and enough people have already been killed in Vancouver because of it. Drag racing was the old style problem and again could be an issue for safety of other drivers and pedesterians. But the amount of souped up and super fast cars makes this even more of an issue. Speeds of 150 km in the city are not acceptable and you certainly can’t react fast enough at that speed.

Sideswiping, speeding, tailgating, rudeness, all are extremely dangerous and do lead to accidents and death. It is the worst type of bullying, and criminal. I still think of those poor guys, on the way to the airport, who were first pushed off the road and then the guy came back, insane with anger, and ran over one young man, killing him.  Why? Did they do something first? Who knows but this sort of escalation is completely crazy. Driving isn’t a game or a competition. Not on our city streets. It’s thousands of people, each one unique and important in their way, and they all have a myriad things going on. They’re busy, sick, preoccupied, worried, happy, rushed, relaxing, whatever. It’s about people getting safely from one destination to the next. You, the driver cannot possibly know why someone does something. People sometimes make stupid mistakes. But if we try to be kinder, calmer, not presume the worst and be more aware, perhaps we can save just a few more lives, or a lot more, on the roads.

And I have to watch it when these drivers drive me crazy. Therein lies the path to road rage. Right now I shoot them with my finger gun and leave at that, grateful that we do have gun laws. Maybe counselling should be added to every driver’s licence exam. Counselling before you get the license and every couple of years.

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Sidewalk and Stairway Etiquette

This will probably not be read because it doesn’t deal with sex or violence (unless I get really really aggravated), and really, you’d think that it wouldn’t need to be said, but some people are rude, some self-centered and some just stupid. And hey, it’s my blog; I can whine if I want to.

I am really getting tired of the me-me-me attitude that permeates not just the roadways, where drivers without passengers feel entitled to use the HOV (high occupancy vehicle) lanes, drive slow in the fast lane with no intention of pulling over, and tailgate everyone who doesn’t want to go 120 km in a 80 km zone. I have complained about this before and how, even in supermarkets, people push and park their buggies the same way that they drive.

It all comes down to a massive lack of consideration, where the only person that matters is that one person and maybe the family members they have with them. Too many people out there think that only they are important or have places to be. Guess what, folks, you don’t own the world, the mall or the highway, so share it with everyone and share nicely. Didn’t your mothers teach you how to share? If not, now is the time to learn.

So sidewalks: remember, as you’re walking along that you don’t have eyes or mirrors in the back of your head. You don’t know who is behind you or what they’re doing. Try not to meander left and right like a demented drunk. Stay to one side of the walk and be aware, if you’re walking down the middle, that someone else may be walking at another pace and would like to pass you. (I mailed a letter yesterday at the street postal box. I turned to move into the flow of the busy sidewalk. I was still not moving and this woman was coming right at me. I had a car beside me and the post box behind me, and people to the right. She almost ran into me. I could only laugh since maybe she thought I was going to levitate.)

If you happen to be walking with several people, then more than two abreast tends to take up the width of most sidewalks. It means that one or more of you will need to walk behind or move over since people use both directions on sidewalks. You’d think it was common sense and courtesy. But many people must believe they own the sidewalk. The more in a pack they are the more likely that they’ll walk at a real slooooooow pace and no one can get by. This goes for people with dogs or strollers as well. You can’t take up the whole sidewalk even in one direction. Be aware, be polite and move over if someone wants past unless you want them to walk on your heels.

And stopping suddenly when you’ve been going at a good pace is a very bad idea, equivalent to braking suddenly on the freeway. Even moreso, people don’t have to worry about giving a car’s length on the sidewalk. If you’ve seen something  or realized you forgot something and have to turn back, slow down gradually, moving to one side of the sidewalk and then turn. That way, anyone behind you will be aware that you’re changing your pace or direction and will be less likely to run into you. This goes for malls too.

Stairwells and escalators work somewhat differently. On an escalator, which goes only in one direction, in North America, it is common to stand on the right and walk on the left. If you’re in a hurry, you walk up the escalator and no one is blocking you. If you’re at a leisure pace, you stay to the right, just like car lanes but people are actually better on escalators than they are on the road. It used to be you would see signs on store escalators explaining this system but I haven’t seen signs for a while now.

For stairs, a person coming down them is more likely to need the hand railing or could possibly trip and fall than if they are going up them. So what does that mean? If you’re walking up the stairs, move away from the railing and let people use it to descend. If you’re old or incapacitated, then yes you might need to pull yourself up the stairs. And if there is a wall that people must walk around, really really try not to hug that corner  in either direction because you’re likely to meet someone nose to nose.

Addendum: I’ve changed my mind about this as I was walking up the middle of the stairs to give room for the people coming down. There were so many and again they were in a cattle like state that I was nearly knocked backwards down the stairs. Now I walk up on the right.

Do I need to even mention how gross and disgusting, uncouth, uncivilized and downright unsexy gobbing and spitting on sidewalks and stairs is? You are not cool and not attractive and not tough. You’re just a pig. Try having some tissue on hand or seeing a doctor if it’s congenital.

Yes, in my perfect world, people would be polite and considerate. They would say sorry if they bumped into you, allow you to pass them on the sidewalk, not hog the whole thing and yes, they would drive politely. The last time I saw multitudes of polite drivers it was in Saskatchewan; not Alberta, not BC, not Washington nor Oregon. Just think, we could have contests to see if people excel in politeness and courtesy. I can dream, can’t I?

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