I think a bazooka would be in order in that situation.
Oh dear god yes. I’m in western NC, and every damned multiway stop turns into a politeness retardathon. Stick to the damned rules! Drive efficiently, smartly, and predictably, and save the politier-than-thou shit for church or bingo or something.
The person who rolls his grocery cart up to the checkout, unloads his purchases onto the conveyor belt and then leaves the cart where it was and moves forward. I am stuck behind the now-abandoned cart and cannot get MY cart to the checker. If there is no one behind me I will carefully roll the offending cart backwards, past me and my cart and let it vanish into the supermarket.
THEN he finishes his purchase and pays for his goods, and realizes…he needs his cart to take his purchases to his car. He looks around, and notices…it is not there. he asks me what I did with his cart. “What cart?” I will ask? “You did not have a cart.” He is baffled. he is sure he had a cart, but…what did I do with it? He may try to take my cart and if he does I will frown and shake my head, gripping my cart. “No, no. this is MY cart. I need it.” If he gives me grief I will say the store manager took it to teach him a lesson.
Grocery shopping can be a dreary experience, but there are always ways of making it interesting.
People saying “sweater” when they mean “sweatshirt”. Especially when they’re trying to communicate something specific, not just like “I spilled coffee on my sweater”, but more like “Do you sell blue sweaters?” Yes, I deal with this at work a lot.
I feel like I have found my people. I also feel like a giant crank because everyone’s giving one or two examples and I’m breaking my neck nodding in agreement at many of them, which means I have more like 8 or 10 mundane things that make me want to punch a nun*.
But eating noises? The worst. I have a former coworker who just left a few weeks ago and, while I miss her, I do not miss her daily carrot-crunching and pretzel-cracking. When we were in an open plan office, I used to have to leave at carrot time. It was not unheard of for me to be driven to tears of frustration. One time she brought her Baggie of carrots to my desk and stood behind me, looking over my shoulder and crunching and smacking. Punch time*.
My sister-in-laws sons are three of the most awesome young men you will ever meet…until mealtime. Then you will want to punch them* in their lovely faces.
- I’m not as much of a puncher as this post makes me seem, really. But food noises make me punchy.
I had a brother in law who used to stand and eat chips. Standing makes it much worse.
He would crunch loudly, then breathe heavily through his nose.
Crunch crunch.
Breathe snorf sigh breathe lip smack
Crunch crunch
Breathe sigh snorf snorgle breathe lip smack
He’s been dead for ten years, but just recounting the memory, ARGH!
Man,I miss him, but I do not miss that.
People who drive for-fucking-ever on cruise control. They don’t speed up or slow down when they should, because they will have to reset their cruise control. How lazy can someone be???
The phrase “at the end of the day.”
When you open your car door after brushing the snow off your vehicle and snow still flies in onto the seat.
Well, guess they need to upgrade. Last year about this time I was driving a lot of rentals and all of them had auto-reset CC: so long as you didn’t stop the car completely it would go back to the former value once you stoped braking or giving it gas. You also could set the CC from the wheel, which we’d use to tweak the CC and match the flow of traffic.
It’s the one thing I miss in my itty bitty car, itty bitty cars don’t come with CC.
My God yes. I don’t remember when athletes and broadcasters started that, but it makes my teeth hurt.
There’s a word for this feeling: misophonia. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/06/health/06annoy.html?_r=0
My daughters and I agree. My father and my mother-in-law were the worst. Chomp, slurp, slosh. Both of them, but especial the MIL, were absolutely horrid, chewing with the mouth open. When I was a teenager I would sometimes leave the table, meal half-eaten, because Dad’s lack of manners made me physically ill.
When my husband discovered that word and its meaning, he sent me a link to an article like that. On the one hand, it makes me feel better that I’m not just making this up. On the other hand, I don’t really know what to do with it.
Beyond punching people, I mean.
So it’s YOU!
Leave the damn door open then, so I don’t have to play “Monty Hall” to find an empty locker!
The word “miffed”.
The phrase “touch base”.
Comic Sans font.
When people say “twenty thirteen” for the year. That isn’t even a number. It’s “two thousand thirteen.”
I love those types of people! They get the ole “accidental” Samsonite to the knees.
Knew you were from Ontario before checking your location or username. I live 5 minutes from the US/Canada border.
Drive with your cruise control on the Canadian side of the border, and you won’t go for longer than 2 minutes without having to shut it off for the above reason. Pass over to I-90 on to American side, and everyone stays right like it’s a religion and does their absolute best to maintain a constant speed.
Another annoying highway Canadianism: Herding.
I, like you, love cruise control, but I find that my car seems to generate unstoppable gravity. People passing in the left lane slow to match my constant speed, and people I’m passing accelerate to join the herd. I find myself downshifting 3 gears and speeding away at 149 kph in hopes it blows their little cattle minds.
People who walk around smiling at nobody and everybody at once. Ahhhh! Smiling sort of loses it’s value when it becomes the default facial expression. And its creepy! Dammit!
I can’t tolerate anyone looking over my shoulder at any time - someone doing that and crunching carrots would be beyond toleration.
Anyone sends their resume to me in comic sans it gets tossed, no exception.
That reminds me of another thnig that bugs me; people who “sign” their emails with a script font. Like I’m supposed to think that’s your signature or something.