1. When going to shake hands with a guy and not knowing which handshake to expect between the business handshake, the social “homeboy” handshake, or the even more “urbane” fist bump. Then there’s that awkward couple of seconds where he and I do this combo thumb wrestling/Rock, Paper, Scissors hand dance that might very well be a grave insult in some other cultures. And the only thing more awkward than unintentionally palming another man’s fist is having your own fist palmed by another man! It’s creepily “catcher/pitcher”…

2. That same awkwardness not knowing where exactly I’m supposed to kiss a girl—who I’m not dating—on the face. Corner of the mouth? High cheek? Do I still go for her right side even though she’s on my left? Most times I wind up with either my nose in her ear or being headbutted!

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…!

4. Needing to have to untie my shoes before I put them on because I was too drunk or lazy to do so the night before, then pulling the wrong shoelace and winding up with that Knot from Hell that I’d need Lilliputian construction workers to undo!

5. Watching a TV show and, when one of the character’s cell phone rings, I inanely check to see if it’s my phone ringing. Especially when I know that the TV cell phone’s ringtone is in no way similar to any of mine.
6. That our science has yet to develop a better household vessel for dispensing toothpaste. Why are we still smooshing and squeezing and rolling and folding and thumbing that damn tube that teasingly always has these little nooks in which to hide the last few reserves of paste or gel?! Wouldn’t a simple syringe-type of tube work better? It works for ice pops and deodorant!

7. When I have to do “Number 2″ right after I’ve just gotten out of the shower!! Then, after I do my business, I have to wipe, like, 5 or 6 times to get the same secure sense of cleanliness as my shower’s loofah just afforded me. And here I was hoping to get at least halfway through the day smelling like “Spring Rain” down there….

8. That Barry White music—and its “conducive to romance” theory—works much more in theory than in practice. At least in 2009. Do you know what does work? The soundtrack to Slumdog Millionaire. Go figure….

9. Getting eggs with two yolks in them. This didn’t use to bother me until about a month ago when bought a carton which had a full dozen of them. It made me wonder if these chickens were getting injected with the same steroids that make them grow “fingers” or “nuggets”….

10. Biting into a sandwich and, because of the wet condiment(s), having the filler start to slide out the opposite side of the bread. Then I have to concentratingly eat the sandwich from side to side, or in a circle, to maintain a kind of sandwich integrity equilibrium. It’s like trying to keep an obese, drunk person from falling out of the bed! Inevitably, the meats and cheeses slip right out onto my paper or plate and I now have to either re-assemble the balance of the sandwich, making sure to align the bite marks to match each other—like designing a lock—or just eat the meat and cheese off my paper or plate with my hands and then pretend to enjoy, as much, the last bite or two of the bread and lettuce sandwich i now have to end lunch with. It’s all just as well since the remaining weight in the bottom of my drink cup is not beverage at all, only ice. And I’m not even surprised when I remove the lid from said cup, tilt the cup to my mouth to squeeze out the last few drops of my Hi-C Orange, and instead, get pummeled on the bridge of my nose with an avalanche of ice cubes…!

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 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.

1. When I’m coming home and I really have to pee, how exponentially smaller my bladder seems to get the closer I get to my apartment door. Then, how upset I am at myself for not having mastered the art of using my keys to open the front door with one hand while undoing my belt and zipper with the other, especially with bags and briefcase in tow.

2. Washing piss off my apartment keys….

3. Not being able to get the juice or milk carton spout to open properly, folding and “smooshing” it, forcing me to pry the top open with my fingers to then have the milk or juice pour out of the now torn spout and dribble over the side, like my grandfather’s drool when he’s napping.

4. The complete health hypocrisy of Frosted Mini Wheats. That’s like chocolate-covered celery….

5. People on a subway car who insist on standing in front of the door and not moving when I’m trying to get on or off the train. And leaning or tilting your head does not merit an attempt at trying to move out of the way, asshole!

6. Seeing a friend across the street and screaming their name to get their attention only to realize that, after I’ve totally embarrassed my seemingly stalker self to the general public, the friend in question didn’t acknowledge me because they had earphones on.

7. That there isn’t a White Castle within drunk-walking distance of my apartment….

8. Not being to order something off the menu at a non-American cuisine for fear that I’ll pronounce the food item or dish wrong. “Yeah, I’ll start with the crostini with duck con-fight [confit] and follow that up with the bulla-bassy [bouillabaisse], and I need another glass of this pinto giorgio…. Merci, my amigo!”

9. The apprehension I feel when I notice another guy’s fly is open. Is he going to wonder why I was looking?! Do I care what he thinks? Is my insecurity worth his present and future embarassment? Am I really that insecure? And why WAS I looking? …I think it’s time I call one of my ex-girlfriends for a date…!

10. The fraud that, despite being plentifully found in its rice and noodle dishes, eggs are not even remotely an ingredient in Chinese egg rolls (unless you count the egg white wash that is brushed on to make them “shiny”).

Bonus Hatery

That my bottles of Windex, Fantastik and Pine Sol and my canisters of Pledge and Lysol are collecting dust from lack of use. That means that even the things I have to clean things need to be cleaned…!

.kac.