I’ve started to notice things about myself. Maybe they were always there or maybe I’m just becoming bitter and jaded with old age. Maybe I’m going to turn in that neighbour of mine who doesn’t like it when I hang dishcloths in my kitchen window.
I can’t tolerate loud noise, especially in a small space. I can hear your iPod just fine, there is really no need to pump the volume so loud your Citi Golf starts vibrating. I hate going to a bar and not being able to hear what the person next to me is saying because the music is so fecking loud.
It annoys the bejeesus out of me when people break rules that are put in place for everyone’s benefit. Why must you litter. I don’t want to have to wade through rubbish walking across a parking lot. Must you smoke in a non-smoking area when I’m trying to enjoy a meal? And then why shout at the waitress who asks you to put it out? It’s not her fault you’re an ass.
And for the love of civilization, why do people insist on speaking during a movie or a play or an intimate concert where it’s one guy and his guitar and everyone else is listening?! I am paying money, time and my respect to be there. I definitely don’t care about your Aunt Mildred’s toe surgery. Mugg and Bean patrons love eavesdropping on conversations, they’ll appreciate your mundane life far more than I will.
And if you are unnecessarily rude to cashiers and waiters, I will cut a bitch.
God, I’m a moany little cow sometimes.