Pet Peeves, Volume 9

I have my pet peeves cataloged by subject and year. Everything annoys me. I'm not sure when this propensity to complain began. Surely I was much less of a complainer as a younger man, but I think the effects of so many people doing so many stupid things is cumulative. You put up with it and put up with it and suddenly, one day, you snap. It's come to the point where I now expect people to disappoint me...I look for it...and when it happens, I get peeved. I don't know if there's any going back. Once you cross that bridge it's hard getting back to the other side. Here are a few examples:

It used to be that when you picked up an item while shopping, the price was always clearly visible. Many stores no longer mark prices on their merchandise. So you get to the register and the cashier looks at you as if you just pulled the plug on her grandmother's respirator. "Price check, men's shirts" she announces, not even bothering to disguise the annoyance in her voice. Then you find out that the item costs way more than you intended to spend, so you must either be a wuss and sheepishly pay the extra bucks or risk incurring the wrath of Geraldine the cashier by stating you don't want the item. Solution: high school part-timer and a price gun.

I know you have a new Lexus, and I know you value it more than your childrens' eyes, but don't pull that angle parking stunt where you take up two spaces in the lot so that nobody dings your baby. It's hard enough to find parking with all the "handicapped" spaces for fat people who are too lazy to move their tree-trunk legs...don't make it worse. If you're so worried about your car, drive to the back of the lot where nobody parks and leave it there. Even though that means walking your raggedy ass two minutes to the store entrance, your precious car will be fine and you will no longer be a thoughtless a**hole occupying two parking spaces. Solution: an ounce of concern for the other guy.

There are two extremes we face when dealing with public restrooms. The first is that the place is so dirty that going on the floor wouldn't make much difference. The second is that the place is so swank that they feel the need to have a uniformed attendant hand you a paper towel to dry your hands. Now I don't mind tipping people who perform a useful service for me, as a matter of fact I usually overtip. What I don't like is being panhandled in the bathroom. Why should I give you a dollar for handing me a towel? Certainly I can master the intricacies of the towel dispenser, so just leave me alone. Also, this has to be the worst job in the world (after Rosie O'Donnell's masseuse). Why subject some poor guy to Dante's fifth circle of hell. Solution: find him a real job like keying the cars of people who take up two parking spaces.

Most diner owners abide by the golden rule of breakfast management: keep the customers' coffee cups filled. Either waitresses or busboys go around refilling the coffee cups of people who are still sleepy and need the caffeine to kick start their hearts. As an alternative, they will leave a pot of coffee on the table which is my preference. In some places, usually outside of New York City, getting a second cup of coffee in a diner is a major challenge. Your waiter or waitress serves your breakfast and then leaves on a European vacation. Empty cup held aloft, you search for them, politely at first but then more frantically as your eggs begin to get cold. You seem to have become invisible to anyone with responsibility for serving customers. Solution: fill the cup or you'll be looking for your tip the way I was looking for my coffee.

I was going to add a pet peeve about people who park so close to your vehicle that you can barely open the door, but that issue is covered in Automotive Pet Peeves, Volumes 4, 5 and part of 6.

SEE DATES ABOVE RIGHT FOR OTHER POSTS FROM "BRAINDROPS". ALSO, READ MY OTHER BLOG: SPALDEEN DREAMS

LOOKING FOR A WORTHY CHARITY? TRY THESE FOLKS: Children's Craniofacial Association