I hate you

mmarlay's picture

I hate you. You are:

  • The commuter who, when you see the bus coming, but you’re still a block away from the bus stop, starts sprinting towards the bus. It’s not the last helicopter out of Saigon. It’s a fucking bus. Another one will be there within two minutes. But I do love it when you arrive, all bedraggled and sweaty, only to have the bus pull away and leave you standing there in a cloud of diesel fumes, pounding on the side of the bus for it to stop and let you on. That’s just awesome.
  • The contestant on Wheel of Fortune who guessed the letter ‘P’ when the puzzle was R-U-_-_-E-R C-H-I-C-_-E-N. Just where in the hell did you think a ‘P’ was going to fit in that phrase?
  • Pretty much anyone with whom I went to high school.
  • Any person who sits next to me on a plane and proceeds to tell me your life story. See my copy of The Economist, into which I am pointedly sticking my face? Hear my grunted, monosyllabic responses? See me not reciprocating? Take the hint. I don’t care about you or your stupid life, or where you’re going or what you’re going to do when you get there. As long as you’re not trying to rush the cockpit, your presence is nothing more than an irritant to me.
  • The guy sitting across from me who had two Bloody Marys before we took off and then two more in the air. On a one-hour flight between Salt Lake City and Phoenix. At 10:00 in the morning. Who then proceeded to be loud and irritating for the rest of the flight. Sir, I know they’re free, but please. That’s a benefit, not a challenge.
  • The Delta customer service representative who was on the phone with me when I wanted to use my free companion travel voucher for an extra seat for myself. (Cf. that whole “hating to sit next to other people and suffer their idiocy” thing, above.) When I asked it was possible to use the voucher for myself, you answered, “I don’t understand. Of course you can use it, sir. It’s your voucher.” I know it’s my voucher, you simp! Please answer the question I actually asked.
  • The relentlessly cheery person who tells me that I should smile more. Fuck you! I like scowling! And you should be thankful that I’m scowling, since it’s only that constant low-level expression of my anger that is keeping it from exploding all over you like a water balloon dropped from the top of the Sears Tower.
  • The woman who sat on the other side of the cubicle wall from me at my old job who responded when someone on the phone asked for you, responded, “This is her.” NO! This is not her; this is actually bad pronoun usage. Even the grammar checker in Word catches that one, and it’s hardly Strunk and White. It took actual physical effort on my part not to yell over the cube wall at you, “This is SHE, you stupid cow!”
  • People who insist on trying to explain to me why Beavis and Butthead is funny. No, it’s not. The Simpsons is funny. Monty Python is funny. George Carlin is funny. Beavis and Butthead? Not so much.
  • Any parent who decides to bring your child to the same restaurant where I’ve decided to have dinner, yet still refuses to control the child. I’m pretty sure I asked for a seat in the non-shrieking section. Spend the $20 and hire a babysitter, please. Or at least put the little bastard on a choke chain so that you can jerk him back over to your table when he starts wandering too far, or we might have to find out just how deep fork tines can penetrate.
  • Anyone who still refers to Target as “Tar-jay.” That stopped being original, funny, or, really, even remotely humorous at least five years ago.
  • People who drive around the Tar-jay parking lot for 20 minutes looking for a close-in parking space, often following like SUV-driving sharks shoppers coming out of the store and returning to their cars. Just walk the extra 50 feet! It won’t kill you! It might even do you some good, since it’s probably the most exercise you’re going to get all week.
  • As a corollary to the above, anyone who parks in a handicapped spot while not actually handicapped. Not being able to read the sign does not qualify as a handicap.
  • I’m sure there are others, but that’s a start. As you can probably tell, it doesn’t take much to make the list, but it’s damn hard to get off of it. I tend to write these things in permanent marker.

    Nikki-ann's picture

    Were you in a bad mood whilst writing this entry? Hehe, just a guess! I'd have a few more to add to that I think... - Mothers with prams/pushchairs who insist on catching your ankles with the pram - Ouch! Can't they see in front of them?! - Slow people when you're in a rush. - People who ask "Can I ask you a question?"... You just did! Why bother asking?! Anyway... this is your blog/journal not mine! :)
    rapunzell's picture

    hmmm....Bosses who give you a 1 week deadline on a project and then wait 5 days before giving you the items you need to work on it. Complete strangers who insist on making really stupid comments about your most striking feature (In my case, "Wow, you have really long hair." Also complete strangers who insist on putting their hand on your shoulder or otherwise touching you in a conspiratorial way. I still haven't decided if that's worse if they're drunk or sober.
    Tialessa's picture

    I think I'm in love, okay, shamlessly groveling to hear more of the "I hate you" list....

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