Yeah, I gotta bazillion pet peeves about racists, intolerence, bad drivers and sleazy politicians…all too easy targets. But what about the cheesy, little nitpicky types of pet peeves that’re almost embarassing to admit?
I hate it when I’m buying a half gallon of milk or o.j. or something cold and the bagger puts the front of the magazine I’m buying right up next to the cold wet carton. I get home, soggy, warped magazine.
I hate those ketchup/mustard pumps at fast food restaurants when they’re nearly empty and they spray all over your shirt.
I hate it when I go to a dressing room in a department store to try something on and the last person left a pile of clothes, pins, hangers, etc. in a heap on the bench and the floor.
People who use the word “slacks” instead of “pants” or “trousers”. Can’t explain this one, it just rubs me the wrong way.
Also, calling soft drinks like Coke or Pepsi “pop”. What popped? Nothing popped. It’s a damn drink! (Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s a regional thing, and I am currently exiled in Hooterville, where everyone calls it pop. And it is irritating!)
I hate people that drive recklessley. Even on the interstate. Is someone else’s life worth getting home a half an hour earlier? I dont care if somebodies going 5, 10, or maybe even 15 mph above the limit on the interstate. But I draw the line when somebody is going 90-100 mph and gets indignant when behind “slow” people. Then they think theyre fricken racer genius person.
Too smoking-related ones: When someone insists on using your cigarette to light theirs. You don’t know if they’re one of those people who’s going to break the cherry off. The second is people who put things other than cigarette butts in ashtrays. The other night I found my cigarette covered in melted plastic, and at $0.37 each, I don’t like wasting them.
No, seriously! I had a roommate in college who had more little pet peeves than I can remember. She would get so upset with me over the smallest little things. She admitted herself that she probably bordered on obsessive/compulsive. For a while I tried to “respect” her hang-ups, but it was making me so on edge in my own home that finally I just had to say “to hell with it” and be my less-than-perfect self.
Now that we don’t live together, we’re friends again.
Mayhap this has been brought up before, but people who block both ‘lanes’ of an escalator, or stairs for that matter, deserve to be smacked. Oftentimes I have reared back as if to strike these lumbering idiotic goats, to amusement/horror of the people behind me. One day I’m seriously just going to plant my foot in their barricade arses and send the morons flying down the stairs/escalator in a tangle of limbs and unawareness.
People who, approaching a double door at the same time as you, stand aside and wait for you to open the door because they can’t be bothered to open the other side for themself. Or who will do the same thing when there are multiple doors (the library has about 4 sets of doors at each entrance).
I don’t mind opening doors for someone most of the time, really. But this drives me nuts.
The fact that nobody has invented a name to accurately describe my hair colour.
Honestly, there are HOW many shades of blonde and brown each with their own names (which are actually well thought out)?
For my colour, every single shade (and it’s pretty diverse, believe it or not!) is grouped together under a bunch of names which are all completely wrong.
‘Red’
‘Ginger’
‘Carrot’.
EURGH! It’s crazy!
I am a very nice person, but I’m also very shy and am not a big fan of small talk. I absolutely hate getting on a plane and befoe we even leave the ground, having the person sitting next to me start asking questions about what I’m reading, where I’m going, etc. etc. etc. I hate making small talk with strangers. It’s worse now that I’m pregnant, because I get a lot of “So, is it a boy or girl?” “Did you want a girl?” “When are you due?” and the kicker “So, are you having twins? Are you sure?” Ah. No. I actually have no idea. I think there might just be a litter of puppies in there, but I guess I’ll find out in a few months.
I also hate it when I’m n the middle of one of those big, girly “bitch about the body parts that you hate” fests, and I mention that I wouldn’t mind having smaller thighs or losing the belly, and having someone go “But you’re soooo skinny!” Then I have to explain that yeah, I’m 6 ft. tall and while I may not look like I’m carrying an extra 15-20 lbs or so, I am, I can just hide it easier. I feel like people are making me out to be that skinny girl that always bitches about how fat she is.
I have tiny stars tattooed behind each ear, and I hate it when people see them and ask “Are those real?” like I spend the time each day to draw stuff in a place that I can’t even see on my head.
I hate people that don’t follow basic laws of traffic while in the grocery store.
I also dislike people that walk r-e-a-l-l-y s-l-o-w-l-y when they’re in front of me. It’s worse when they are in a large group, and make it to where I can’t pass them by.
(Man, I’m whiny.)
Oooh. This one used to bug me when I lived with my mom and my brother and sister got home from school before I did. I would ride the bus home, and since school lunch is notoriously bad, I would be hungry all afternoon. I’d remember some leftovers that were in the fridge, and crave them all day, only to get home and find out that my brother had already eaten whatever it was that i’d wanted. Later, I moved out, and my food was always waiting for me when I got home…until I moved in with my boyfriend (now husband) and that same thing started happening. Argh!
When I am waiting for an elevator and the directional button is lit up and someone come along and presses it again. Like the elevator car will come for them quicker than for me.
When I’m walking down a street and someone stops for no reason and I walk into them.
