Pet Peeves Find Little Comfort

I’m not one to always complain for what good does it do? People don’t listen to you. They have their own troubles. I’ve learned through experience that the person who is always kicking doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Yet, we go through life annoyed and irritable when things don’t quite go our way. Take my computer. It often provides me with more of a guessing game than a beachcomber with a bikini. And when it crashes in the middle of a story, so do I. The same can be said for annoying cell phone abusers, loud music, long lines and endless commercials on TV. I cannot tolerate intolerance and often grow restless when I see people texting behind the wheel. Maybe it’s best if I just hibernate to some remote island and isolate myself from the rest of humanity. But then, I remind myself that misery loves company. When I was high school editor of my yearbook, I asked my classmates to reveal their pet peeves. The list covered everything from rainy weekends and neckties to noisy people, tardiness, homework and alarm clocks. One student’s pet peeve was the “teacher’s pet.” As for me, my beef was people who considered themselves “big shots.” Most always, they were off target and only made a ridiculous fool of themselves. With age came other disorders like ill-manners, disrespect, aborted relationships, family issues and people who disregard personal hygiene. No need to expound. You get my drift. I worked with a guy who never showered. Had I distributed gas masks to the staff, he wouldn’t have gotten the hint. Finally, all it took to snap him out of his funk was a bar of soap. We left it on his typewriter with instructions on what to do with it. I’d rather have a root canal than repeat the experience I suffered through last week. There was this speaker at the podium who overstepped his bounds big-time. Not only did he speak with an accent that made it difficult to understand but he lingered and lulled the people to sleep with his monologue. If that didn’t suffice, he was an “ahh” guy. Every sentence was diced with “ahhhh.” I started counting them until his cell phone went off at the podium, not once, twice, but three times. He begged everyone’s pardon while he answered his calls at the rostrum. I love a “finished” speaker—not one who is necessarily polished but finally done. I have a word for him. “Whew!” Now, I hate to sound ornery or ill-tempered but how can anyone using the copier leave the lid up after using it? Or interrupting you as you’re speaking to another? Doesn’t that just bug you? What about the person who’s never on time, thinking it’s fashionable to be late? I keep a clean desk, always have, and always will. So why should others be imbued in clutter and keep a messy car? I disdain people who are loud and obnoxious, whether they’re sober or had a few. Can’t they control their inhibitions? Headlining my list of pet peeves are these inane television commercials that irritate the dickens out of me. One after another, they never stop, causing me to surf other networks for relief, only to find the same thing on my remote. To make matters worse, sometimes the same commercial is repeated within moments of airing. They either insist you want a product you don’t need—or need a product you don’t want. I usually take the moment to make a quick run to the refrigerator or bathroom and still return in plenty of time for another look at the weather. The worse culprit has to be these auto dealerships that offer no letup. How they expect to entice a customer with such badgering and consistency is beyond me. I see no value in airing five consecutive car promotions, other than turn viewers off. Many of them wind up giving you a headache, then try to sell you a remedy for it. I cannot tolerate telemarketers any longer and get rid of junk mail sooner than it arrives. I often pick the wrong line at a bank or supermarket and usually wind up behind a slowpoke. I have no patience for long-winded talkers, whether they are priests, public officials, club executives or sales pitchers. They like to hear themselves speak. You say you don’t have a pet peeve? Well, what about this? Why are we spending billions of dollars on space travel and foreign aid when there are people in this country who could use a lift? If that doesn’t get your gander, nothing will.

Pet Peeves Find Little Comfort

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Tom Vartabedian

This story is FREE for you...

Tom Vartabedian

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