1. When waiting on line to a cashier, how the person in front of me—usually a girl (not you girls, but some OTHER girl!)—waits until the very last second to begin the procession of bag openings to get to the cash or credit card they need to pay! We’ve been on this line for 4 minutes already and instead of you texting a girlfriend of yours in another cashier line, you could have taken this time to get your money in order. But no, you, you inconsiderate narcissist, wait until you’re at the register to put down your plastic container of salad—and, let’s be honest; it’s really just some frisé with a slice of meatloaf on it and a couple of chicken tenders. But you can go ahead and call it a “salad”!—plop down that large pet carrier you call a bag, and execute this Russian wooden doll-like display of pulling out smaller bags from without smaller bags, then a purse, then a wallet, then flipping through credit cards or trying to remember which ones still has money on it or fishing through wadded up bills and spare change before you can actually pay. And you’ve done this all with one hand since you’re still texting your friend with the other! Meanwhile, my meatloaf and mashed potatoes are getting cold and I believe two people on the line behind me have had their birthdays come and go already…!
2. This is also the same girl (person) in front of me at the subway turnstile rummaging through the same bag for her MetroCard while the train is pulling into the station…!
3. That Barry Manilow, who sang and made famous the song “I Write The Songs”, didn’t write that song!
4. At a bar or club, going into the unisex bathroom where obviously the girl before me who just left has pissed all over the toilet seat (very smartly eschewing the option of “sitting” for the more hygienic “squatting” or “hovering”) and me being so concerned about what the girl behind me outside the bathroom is going to think, that I now take the time to clean the piss off the toilet seat with overzealous custodial proficiency!
5. That supposedly high-minded criminals in the land of television fiction have yet to figure out that if they want to perpetuate a heinous crime or terrorist action against the United States, that they should base all facets of their operations in places that 24′s Jack Bauer can NOT travel or get to within 60 minutes. The same holds true for “super” villains who stupidly live in Gotham City or Metropolis. Hey, guys, to the best of my knowledge, there are no superheroes in Atlanta; plenty of rich, powerful people there to rob from, and not one of them can fly or has super-strength or speed!
6. Calling someone’s cell, having it ring only once or twice, go to voicemail. Then being later told by said someone that their phone was off so they’re sorry they missed my phone call! If your phone was off, I would have gone straight to voicemail, without it ringing even once, so I know you intentionally forwarded my call to voicemail! Why lie to me about it, everyone knows that’s how cell phone works! And the only reason why I’m calling is to ask you, “What’s with this Order of Protection with your name on it that I was just served while window shopping at Binoculars ‘R’ Us…?!”
7. Thinking, while walking down the sidewalk, I’m successfully, sneakily checking out pretty ladies—and all their fun, beautiful parts— until I realize that I don’t actually have on my dark sunglasses and being completely obvious about my lechery! …And here comes another Order of Protection…!
7. Being in a group of people singing Happy Birthday to someone who has 3 or more syllables in their name, especially when that makes them have several nicknames, making the “singing in unison” go to crap right when you get to the name: “Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday Dear, um, Allie/Alex/Alexandria/Zandy/Zan-Zan/Dreea/Mommy (?!)…, Happy Birthday to You…!”
8. Having to use shampoo in the shower to wash my body, and not knowing if I feel bad about doing it because I feel I’m somehow cheating my inner hygienist, or because I deep down realize that it doesn’t really make a damn bit of difference! Hey, if you can wash your hands in dishwashing liquid….
9. People on Facebook who list their relationship status as IT’S COMPLICATED. Listen, if your love life isn’t sufficiently explained by SINGLE, IN A RELATIONSHIP, ENGAGED, MARRIED, or IN AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP, then IT’s not complicated, YOU’RE complicated!
10. This ad for the erectile dysfunction drug Cialis with the couple sitting naked in separate claw foot bathtubs at the edge of a cliff!:
Alright, have a seat; where the fuck do I start?! First of all, what’s up with separate tubs?! How’d they get them up there, by truck? So this guy has the energy to lift not one but two tubs onto a truck, drive however long to this secluded cliff, unload the tubs, fill them with the gallons upon gallons of water to fill them both, but can’t seem to get it up for sex? Here’s a suggestion: stop over-stressing yourself! Unless, of course, it was the woman who did the heavy lifting, then even my penis might be scared of her too!
And why two separate tubs? Isn’t the purpose of sex to bring the two of you together. You’re going to eventually going to be in one tub, right?! And are these extra tubs you just had laying around the garage, or did you rip them out of your home’s bathrooms just for a few hours of the sweaty-nasty? Or are the tubs always there, exposed to the elements, insects and wildlife, and any other middle aged bodies who happen to come across them?
And where is the water from? And they have glasses of water to, so are the drinking bath water or bathing in drinking water? There doesn’t seem to be any local plumbing, so why are there faucets on the tub? Or did they fantasy play Jack & Jill and bring buckets of water back and forth from the ocean up to this cliff?
And what’s with the side table? Wouldn’t a more convenient comfort from home been hangers, maybe some slippers, or at least bug spray?
And where did they arrive from? Is this why his erection might need to last for 4 hours, so it lasts long enough to drive across state lines to find this secluded spot, unload two heavy tubs, fill them with water, get in them, and try to have sex without slipping between the tubs onto the, by then, wet ground or, worse, fall out the front of the tubs and possible roll down the cliff butt-naked, miles away from any medical attention or possible rescue?!
And is that a fuckin’ Snapple of the far end of the side table?! IS IT…?!
Bonus Hatery
Realizing when I’m getting a whole lot of dirty looks while on the bus that, yes, I am that asshole who is singing along to his iPod just a little too loud….
.kac.
I hate lollipops.
3. On the sidewalk, approaching people walking their dogs on a long leash, and not knowing if they’re going to pull the dog back, or if I’m going to have to now walk halfway across the sidewalk and around the walker, leash and dog! Makes me want to kick the leash and slingshot the dog into the side of a building like Wiley Coyote trying to catch Road Runner! I do love it though when the dog gets wrapped around some scaffolding and its owner has to undo a Houdini amount of loops and knots while trying to hold onto their groceries and keep their cell phone between their ear and shoulder…! 