Seemingly Trivial Things That Piss Me Off

So don't be this person.



Leave Me The Fuck Alone

As I have an affable personality, I like people. As an introvert, I just don't like people. If you walk into a classroom, restaurant, lecture, etc. and I'm in the most inaccessible place with my back to the wall, please note my expressionless face and don't talk to me. I don't care about reminiscing about Brett Favre's career or that you hope the class will be good. You may think my silence means acceptance at first, but behind my placid eyes I'm imagining ripping your head off and shoving it up your ass. And when you finally figure out that I don't want to talk to you (which took five minutes as I'm a Midwesterner), don't sulk away like a scolded puppy. Unlike Iraq, you are the aggressor. I like dogs and forgive their eagerness; you should know better. I hide in corners for a reason.



Watch the Volume of Your Voice

Ok Pavarotti, you make like the sound of your own voice, but your audience at the Met is made up of one. Admittedly, I have been responsible for this transgression from time to time as has everyone (except my friend Adam), but don't be the exception to the rule. You probably don't mean to act as though I'm an encroaching predator, but you make me feel like pissing myself, dropping some twitching appendage, and running for the hills. Shhhhhh, for both of our sakes.



Your Miscreant Children Are Not Entertainment

I know that little Madison and little Ethan give you great joy and, unfortunately, much conversation fodder, but they look like poo-flinging monkeys to me. Actually, I like watching poo-flinging monkeys as long as I'm not hit, but your children are much uglier than the more advanced primates. The post office is not a playground, so take their fat asses to a playground. And don't say please when asking little Jacob to stop kicking the shin of the kindly-looking old man patiently waiting in line. Give the brat the stare of death (I've luckily inherited it from my mother). Grab his arm and drag him off. Plus, that old man isn't as kindly as he looks. He's probably a Midwesterner.



Chew With Your Mouth Closed

Just because I live in a state (and a noted region of said state) that is known for cows, I don't want to watch you chew like one. Perhaps the government should bring back those 50's film strips on manners. Pay attention this time. That burger that you're chewing like cud doesn't look so swift when it's being disassembled with compacted enamel and spittle. This is also true for you obsessive gum chewers. You look about thirty IQ points dumber than you are when chewing gum with ol' Yapper wide open. If you must appear laden with bong resin, breathe through your fucking nose. Nothing worse than listening to the squish AND cavernous wind of your affliction.



I know I sound like a grumpy old coot, but I'm not. I'm a grumpy, dejected thirtysomething, thank you.