The bathroom thing goes for women too…I always try to keep a stall in between me and whomever is in there too.
Can’t ride an elevator if its too full.
I ALWAYS HAVE TO HAVE SPECIFIC THINGS IN SPECIFIC PLACES.
Always have to wait until the hockey players are off the ice before I can leave the game.
I can’t play volleyball or dive into a pool hands-first because I’m afraid of breaking my fingers. I had to play Mercy with my brother a lot, and he played piano and guitar and had strong hands.
Can’t stand long skinny pastas: spaghetti, angel hair, linguini. Had a bad experience at Girl Scout camp.
“On the edge of sleep, I awoke to a sun so bright…”
I am a compulsive coordinator when it comes to my clothes & my kids clothes but mostly mine. Absolutely everything I wear must match. Shoes, headbands, jewelry, purse(at a formal affair), everything. I seldom mix more than 3 or 4 colors, black and brown tend to be a favorite.I paint my nails and let them dry on the drive to work just so my nails match. Never mix silver and gold, and gold tends to look better with browns,tans,etc, while silver looks nicer with blacks,whites,greys. Its become an office topic(friendly and flattering) as they have all come to notice it. I even died my hair last holiday season to match the fuschia dress suit I wore for X-mas. I truly am a slave to fashion. And i need a bigger closet.
I can’t go to sleep if my closet door is open. There have been times when I’ll be drifting off for a mid-afternoon nap (an essential to college life) when the Neurotic Alarm in my brain goes off and I have to spring out of my comfortable bed and close the door. Maybe I’m still afraid of monsters?
I also crack just about every joint in my body. Friends tease me about it, but it really does feel good.
My trick to using public urinals is to recite a list of the prime numbers in my head. I read that in a book somewhere, and it actually works. I used to have to count pretty high, but now I’m down to about 17 or 23
For some reason whenever I learn the name for something obscure and meaningless it sticks in my head and I can’t help constantly telling other people when it comes up. For example “the end of shoelace thing” (aglet) Must be quite annoying to the rest of the world. My husband gets the brunt of it, such as last night when he commented that he was driving “on the marbles” by accident and I replied “Botts’ dots.” “What?” “They’re called ‘Botts’ dots’ after the inventor who’s name was Joe Botts or something.” “How could you possibly know something like that?” If only I could find out the name of those little pictures with the plastic corduroy like covers that you tilt back and forth to change the picture, I could really be a terror.
As for the pen caps – if I see a ballpoint pen that has one, I rip the cap off and throw it away. They seem so useless to me because no one actually puts pens in their pockets anymore and they eventually get lost anyway. It’a almost as if they offend me somehow, go figure.
And unlike Sancho, I can’t sleep unless the bedroom door is closed. Hubby likes it open and insisted I give him a reason and the best I could come up with was “I don’t want the rest of the house to get in.” 
Yes, I did know those capitals off the top of my head, but I realize I have no way of proving it other than asking you to trust me. Care to try:
Western Samoa
Tonga
Tuvalu
Kiribati
Nauru
Kyrgyzstan
Uzbekistan
Latvia
St. Lucia
Aruba
Matt, I give in !
I know NONE of those off the top of my head (OTTOMH ?). As a Dutchman, I should be VERY ashamed for not knowing the capital of Aruba straightaway (well, I could also pretend I’m a conservative bloke protecting our colonies, stating that the capital of Aruba is AMSTERDAM !!).
I’m sure I’d know some of them if I looked them up… but that wasn’t the deal 
Coldfire
“You know how complex women are”
Just remembered this one!
I like Worcestershire sauce on my popcorn.
Most common question I ask: “What?”
Most common question I get: “Are you really hearing impaired?”
Missy2U,I am the same way.I have to save the best food for last.Unfortunately,by then I’m full! 
I will not step on any kind of sidewalk grating if I can possibly avoid it.
I close letters with the phrase “Yours ob’tly” (short for “obediently,” before anyone asks).
If the end of the roll of toilet paper is at the back, toward the wall, I turn the roll around so that it’s in front. Even at work.
I will not eat eggs in any form in which the original appearance/flavor/nature of the egg is obvious. This makes ordering breakfast at most American restaurants total hell for me, because often there is nothing non-egg-centric on the menu except for pancakes. I enjoy pancakes at home, but Gawd, I’m sick of ordering pancakes in restaurants. I was overjoyed when I traveled to Spain and saw the big breakfast spread in the hotel restaurant – mountains of food, glorious food, without an egg in sight. (Apparently, in Spain, eggs are considered a side dish and served with dinner or supper.)
Geenius-
I feel your pain. I hate eggs, and I have for a long time. I live in a college dormitory right now, and the only options, breakfast-wise, are eating in the cafeteria or at a restaurant, which pretty much means eating eggs. I usually wait until lunch.