A list of a few things that bother me...a little.
Cell phones: I have one, you have one, your grandma probably has one. I know that you know that I have one. But here's the thing, I bought it for my convienence not yours. I understand that this concept is hard for you to grasp, but I DON'T have my cell stitched into my hand and I DON'T always answer it. Sometimes I'm in the shower, sometimes I'm sleeping, sometimes I just don't care. It is not my responsibility to be readily available to YOU. Leave a voicemail, text me, maybe even try calling again. I can't guarantee I'll respond immediately (if ever) but it will up your chances of getting a call back. Just stop getting mad about it. That's silly.
Customer Service: Alright I get it, your job sucks but that is not my problem. I walk into an establishment and I just want to eat, shop, browse, whatever...I do not, however, want you to dump your issues on me. I simply do not care. Your sulky, pissy, gloomy, indifferent attitude is ridiculous. How hard is it to crack a smile? I've given birth and smiled at the people who came by to see me after. All you're doing is using a scanner. You don't even have to think anymore, a computer does your job for you.....and you look at me like I ran over your dog. What is that? What you don't get is that without me and people like me frequenting your shop, you no longer have a job. By proxy, I sign your paycheck. And it really pisses me off when, out of common courtesy, I have to thank you for doing your job instead of you thanking me for helping you keep it.
Drunks at the bar: You live a wretched life. Understood. The only thing you have to do with your time is drink. Alot. Everyday. That's your thing. You go to the bar because that's all you can do. Me, on the other hand, I occasionally go to the bar to relax with my friends. So, why you think I want to hang out with your sloppy ass is beyond me. I arrive at 10pm and you're already leaning left on your barstool. We see you there Drunky McDrunkerson, we don't say, "Hi!" or come over to chat because we have absolutely NO desire to be seen with you, let alone chatting with you. Seriously, you're a 49yr old loser. That being said, for the love of God, stop sending drinks to us and then meandering over to drop an arm around my shoulder in that super sleazy way. Does this EVER work for you? Really? I've made it this far in life without you, I'll do just fine for the next fifty years. But hey dumbass, thanks for the free drinks!
