Six Things

Today's guest rant is brought to you by Cookiebitch. She is bawdy, opinionated, funny, loves shoes and tequila, and is the woman I aspire to be when I grow up. Enjoy!

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Six Things That Piss Me Off:

1. Pedestrians. Buy a fucking car. Stop moseying across the street willy nilly, paying no attention to what's going on around you and thinking that it is everyone else's responsibility not to hit you. Also, wipe that stupid idiotic grin off your face and concentrate on actually MOVING. My god. My grandfather could move faster, and he lost both his legs to the gout. You may not be in a hurry because you have no life. I'm in a hurry. Get the hell out of my way.

2. Strangers - most of which are grown women - who feel it necessary to call me "hon" or "sweetie." I don't know you - don't particularly want to know you, and feel quite certain I'm not your "hon" or your "sweetie." By calling me that you make me feel like my IQ level just dropped 50 points - and that your IQ level is non-existent. Just give me my fucking double latte and stop trying to "bond."

3. Store clerks who will tell you something looks good on you, when you really look like a retarded person who just threw up on themselves. Seriously. And don't say those pair of pants fit "perfectly" when it really looks like I just took a dump in them, or I have such a serious case of camel toe that an Arab man is trying to ride me. You may really want the sale - but I'm not going to buy squat from a lying bitch like you. Just be honest. It will get you further - trust me.

4. People who will see my office door is closed but walk in anyway and ask "Are you busy?" Yes, dumbass. That's why my fucking door was closed. This person is in the same category as people who call you and when you are too busy to answer, call you AGAIN, right after their first call, and continue to call you over and over until you break down and pick up the phone in a homicidal rage. Then, when you ask them what's so damned important that they had to talk to you RIGHT THE FUCK NOW they say something completely inane like - "I was just wondering what you were doing today" or "they just made fresh coffee in the break room." One day, I will kill these people. And I won't be sorry.

5. People working at the drive-thru window at fast-food restaurants who CAN'T SPEAK ENGLISH. It shouldn't be a huge mental stretch that a person who can't speak or understand English shouldn't be put in a job whose main requirement - besides making change and putting ketchup packets in paper bags - is to COMMUNICATE in English. Add the fact that their broken, poor English is being further distorted by the crackling of the cheap-ass speaker in the sign, and you've got one PAINFUL experience on your hands. I always deal with these situations by raising my voice and talking louder, thinking that if I shout at them they will suddenly be able to understand me better and I will be able to understand them. But sadly, this doesn't work. Yesterday I ordered a chicken sandwich with a side salad - shouting it no less than 82 times at the poor, confused man. What I got was a double cheeseburger and an apple pie. WTF? I think he secretly DID understand - but is just trying to kill me.

6. People with rabid facial hair. This includes people with eyebrows that literally take over their entire face, looking like an Ewok has Velcroed themselves to their forehead. Or there's my other favorite - people whose eyebrows grow not just together, but OUT in spider tendrils that look like they could grab you at any time. The good news is you can see these people's eyebrow hair come into a room before they actually appear, giving you time to hide. And don't even get me started on the sideburns and the beards that look like a family of squirrels could store nuts in there. There is no good reason for this. People like this are just fucking lazy. Go see a barber. Get a wax. Buy some scissors and tweezers. Make an appointment for electrolysis. But for the love of GOD ... do SOMETHING. Because you're making me want to barf up the apple pie I didn't order.