A shade of pale, pale, pale pink found in clothing. Not quite pink, more of a white tinged with pink. I had a very expensive sweater this color and it was such a NOTHING color, neither here nor there, and it annoyed me no end. Be white! Be pink! Don’t be that blah no-color!
The pizza place where I often eat lunch, where they play MP3s (or the like) over their speakers and the sound drops out/pauses for a half-second several times per minute. It’s been happening for weeks, and I’d much rather hear silence than randomly skippy music.
Oh! At the grocery store they play oldies on the PA system, and as soon as they start a song I really like and am quietly humming along with, they interrupt it with an announcement about a special or “be sure to watch your carts.” Drives me mad. Someday I am going to scream, “shut up, dammit–that’s Patsy Cline!”
People who don’t know when to use “me” and “I” - especially when they’ve got their own TV shows and they make the same error over and over and over… GAH!!! No, it’s not more educated or sophisticated to say “John and I” every single time - sometimes it’s flat-out wrong!! Did you sleep through elementary school English class???
Yeah, it definitely irritates me more than it should.
I know exactly that color! And yes, I hate it too.
Mom gave me a shirt of that color. Last time I dyed my hair, I dumped the excess henna paste into a bucket, added some water and vinegar and dyed the shirt in the dilute henna solution. Strangely, it came out tannish white, the color of unbleached cotton. So it’s still kind of a non-color, but it’s a less rage inducing non-color.
My current pet peeve: my family (well, my SO) has decided that the end of the dining room table closest to the back door is the perfect Staging Area for trash and recycling that won’t fit into the bins under the sink. There’s a veritable pantry of empty cereal boxes and Diet Pepsi bottles back there. It can be days before they get taken all the way out to the trash/recycling. This is making me stabby far out of proportion to the actual offense.
My youngest sister’s voice. I don’t know what it is, but she can make a reasonable request and it’ll send me into a flying rage. Anyone else can make the same request and I’m fine. It’s odd too, as I love her to death and I’ll do anything she wants (within reason).
Stores without self checkout. It should be no biggie to use a regular cashier when self checkout is unavailable, but it makes me want to stop shopping at places that don’t have it.
The sound of children giggling. I don’t mind regular child laughter, but giggling is like nails on a chalk board to me. I don’t hate kids either. In fact, given a choice I’ll spend time with kids rather than 95% of adults I know.
Scraping a spoon on the inside of a bowl while stirring. <Screeeeek!>
Limp-fish handshakes. The kind where all you’re offered is the end of the fingers.
Shake my hand fully, where the web between my thumb and forefinger meets the web between your thumb and forefinger.
Or just don’t touch my hand at all. Makes me want to puke.
My sister when eating will bite down on the tines of the fork and scrape it through her teeth. Drives me bonkers.
I have very few ironclad rules that I never break (the usuals such as not murdering or raping other people, etc.), but being unfailingly kind and polite to the people who serve my food is one of them. But as you point out, sometimes that is almost impossible to do.
This had been mentioned again and again, but people typing “alot” rather than “a lot.” I just noticed this in several posts, and I have to stop myself from hijacking the thread with “did you go to school, or were you raised by particularly illiterate wolves?”
nm
The very jolly woman in the office across the hall has THE most annoying laugh I’ve ever heard, and she laughs A LOT. it’s like an ice pick in my ear, especially when I’m trying to concentrate. What’s more, most of our co-workers find her jocularity very amusing and deliberately set her off, and I’m not allowed to smack them with a rolling pin.
(Those familiar with Brian Jaques’ Redwall novels: think of Hon. Rosemary and pity me.)
Lately the Wells Fargo near work has taken to having the drive-thru tellers say “It’s my goal to provide first class service. Have I done this for you today?” or some such nonsense every damn time I put a deposit in. As this is a work account, that is several times a week. For chrissakes it’s a deposit made up of a half-dozen checks - I hope that doing this is that bare minimum of customer service level I can expect. WF has utterly and spectacularly failed on all important customer service aspects required by a business of their bank, so this question, asked only when I am making an extremely simple transaction makes we want to punch someone.
But I have my revenge - we are moving all the business bank accounts in January to a new bank. I’m certain to get a lot of sputtered “but why??” and I have my list ready.
Or people who use “myself” instead of “me” – or along with “I.”
I, myself, would never do that. 
I’m the exact opposite. As the thread title says, it annoys me more than it should (especially since I’m a techie kind of guy), but I will NOT shop at a store that makes me check out my own purchases. I want them to count and scan everything, bag it, process the card or take the cash, and load it all back in a cart for me.
[quote=“Gary “Wombat” Robson, post:12, topic:607986”]
The sound of the dog or the cats licking themselves. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but that slurp slurp slurp makes me want to scream.
[/QUOTE]
You’d hate one of my cats then. Not only is there the standard slurping sound but she occasionally generates more spit to ensure a nice deep clean. It’s a bizarre bubbly-horking sound that can be rather annoying!
Oh, lordie, I had a cat who would “play the cello” at top volume. Always when I had guests over. Lillian would plunk herself down, lift one leg, and the concerto began. *Too *shy-making.
I would hate that, too. My bank does this “Thanks for banking with SunTrust” thing, but your bank is much worse. I don’t want to have to reassure you every damn time that you did okay, which is what this sounds like, even though that is not their intent.
The tiny thing that annoys and irritates me to a far greater degree than it should: my daughter’s tiny little hands pulling and stretching my t-shirt collars when I hold her. I love her to pieces, and I treasure her, but when those little baby hands grab onto my collar and yank and twist and pull– oh, sweetie.
I should never read these threads. Now all of your minor annoyances will bug the heckity out of me too.