We all have them. But what may drive me nuts might not faze you, and vise versa. My pet peeves generally occur while I’m driving. You should hear me during those moments. Well, on second thought, maybe you shouldn’t. What spills out of my mouth often surprises even me.
Now don’t get me wrong; the following is definitely not my complete list of pet peeves. I’m not sure such a list is ever entirely finished. Personally, I develop new pet peeves weekly. So here are my open letters to those who pushed my buttons this week…
DEAR SLOW DRIVERS:
The gas pedal is there for a reason. Please use it. The speed-limit means you shouldn’t exceed that speed. It doesn’t mean you should drive 15 mph under it while in the fast lane. Or, come to think of it, in any lane.
Slow drivers cause accidents because fast drivers (like me) almost barrel into the back of your vehicle. Everyone coming up behind you is forced to brake. The end result is a traffic jam, all because you’re meandering down the freeway like your destination is somewhere you’d rather not go.Here’s a word of advice (so people like me are not tempted to read a book while crawling behind you): if it appears you’re leading a funeral procession, then you’re in the wrong lane. Please move over and let the 11 cars behind you pass. My blood pressure thanks you.
DEAR BIKE RIDERS:
I bike too, so I can sympathize when you feel cars are running you off the road. But I have to tell you, you might be asking for it.
Riding side by side with your buddy on a curvy two-way road is a big no-no, yet it happens all the time. When you’re this oblivious, cars can’t pass without risking a head-on collision, so traffic crawls along behind you.
Here’s a tip: chat when your ride is over. And buy a biking mirror. You’ll be able to see what’s happening behind you so you can thoughtfully shift your spandex-laden body into single file whenever cars approach. That’s so much simpler than losing your left leg.DEAR PET GUARDIANS:
If you insist that Spot accompany you in your car on a warm day, let alone a hot one, please consider cracking the window more than an inch. Trust me, nobody is going to steal a dead dog. And who wants to see an animal panting in obvious distress because you left the window open wide enough for only a fly to squeeze through? How very thoughtful of you.Here’s a tip: sit in your car for 15 minutes under the same conditions and then tell me how comfortable it was. Of course, that may be impossible since you’ll most likely be unconscious. Hopefully brain damage will be minimal. DEAR GROCERY STORE PATRONS:
Please get a clue. When you’re waiting in line, it would be awfully nice if you were aware that you will eventually need to pay for those groceries.I just love standing behind you while you’re reading People magazine and then you act surprised when the checker says what you owe.
You quickly put the magazine away (thank you for that), search through your crowded purse, can’t quite locate your wallet and eventually decide to pay in cash instead of the oh-so-easy (and quick) swiping of your debit card.
Worse yet, you keep everyone waiting while you insist on giving exact change, one sweet quarter, dime, nickel and penny at a time, all buried at the bottom of that monstrous purse of yours. Happy hunting.
DEAR WHOEVER INVENTED THE JAR LID TIGHTENER:
Why must lids be so tight that I need a tool caddy just to open my jar of jam? Isn’t the object to be able to eat whatever is under the lid? If so, I seriously question your perception of the average hand-strength of a human being.
I twist until the lid striations are imbedded in my palm; still doesn’t budge. I hit the side of the lid with the handle of a knife; no jam. I stick the tip of a bottle opener under the lip to loosen it; nothing happens.
I try using one of those rubber pads that help grip lids. I twist and twist and finally the seal is broken. I tell you, it’s exhausting. I shudder to think what those with arthritis do in these situations.
I suppose they simply go without jam.