Thursday, April 19, 2012

Top Ten Pet Peeves

I might have more pet peeves than the average person.  Just gonna cop to that right off.  I'm not an angry person, more like a highly sensitive person.  It takes a lot to piss me off but just a tiny bit to annoy me.  I'm the world champion of eye rolling.  I'm the Debbie Harry of evil looks.  So, this list was hard.  But, not impossible.  I've been logging them in my mental bitch file for years, after all.

Top 10 Pet Peeves.  Ahem.

1) When you complain about something you haven't read/watched/listened to.  Don't tell me that Bon Iver is sell-out hipster bullshit and then admit to me that you haven't heard any of their songs.  Do not tell me that Hunger Games is stupid and lame kid's stuff if you haven't read the books.  I don't care if we disagree.  We should disagree!  But, let's both know what we're talking about first, okay?

2) When things don't work right.  Things should work right.  They just should.  This, for me, usually kicks in with electronics.  I've dangled my laptop over a balcony and threatened to murder it.  I once kicked a printer.  One of my old phones is somewhere in Lake Austin.  It makes me really really mad.  I don't know why, either.  Yes, I've tried therapy.

3) Rudeness to waiters.  I can't hang.  I was a waitress forever but I think even if I'd never served shots or schlepped wings, this one would get me.  Waiters should be cut some slack.  Always.  If you're giving them shit for no reason, I will give you my best bitch look and you'll be all like, "Hey, honey, that girl with the curly hair is putting a hex on me," and you'll be right.

4) Littering.  I don't get it.  Pick up your shit.  My friend Christie once picked up a piece of trash a woman had dropped.  She caught up with the lady, handed it to her and said, "You dropped this."  Christie is my hero.

5) Hummers.  Not blow jobs, the cars.  Or, the tanks.  Whatever.  Especially in Los Angeles.  I just can't imagine what kind of selfish asshole you must be to think your car should be taking up that much space in a big city.  Seriously?  My tiny little car and I hate you.  My little car and I are laughing at you as we squeeze into that last teensy parking place.  Suck it, Hummers.

6) Texas haters.  I know there's some messed up things happening down there.  And, I'll complain all day.  But, if you find out I'm from Texas and immediately start saying mean things about my state, I'll pour a Lone Star over your head while singing "Texas, Our Texas" at the top of my lungs.  Ditto for California haters, only it'll be a nice Napa Pinot Noir and "Going Back to Cali."  You've been warned.

7) When you're wearing a rock tee but you don't really know the band.  This kind-of piggy backs on number 1. But, if you're rocking a Pink Floyd shirt you picked up at Forever 21 or wherever and I ask you what your favorite album is, you better be able to name one.  Come on.  At least say, "The Wall."

8) Hard to open packaging.  This includes jars, water bottles and that crazy hard plastic stuff that you have to be a genius to get into.   I feel like this is a personal affront to small women with small hands.  If I didn't live with a man, I would never again eat another pickle or get into a bottle of Grey Goose.  Grrrr.

9) No website.  If you have a bar or a hair salon or a store and I want to check you out, I should be able to find a website or a Facebook page or a freaking Twitter feed.  SOMETHING.  Hello.  You have a business!  Promote it.  Welcome to 1993.

10) Agro meat eaters.  From the bottom of my heart, I promise you I don't care what you eat.  I'm so sorry my veggie burger ruined your day.  I hope you'll be okay.  I hope you'll get over this obvious attack on all you hold dear in the world.  Next time I'll eat in the bathroom so you don't have to witness the un-American act of someone eating vegetables.

Happy Thursday.  I think I need to go look at some kitten videos or something.

Namaste.