No, I don’t even pretend to be Emily Post. I don’t even pretend to be the most well-mannered person. But there are some things that just get under my skin, and tend to make my blood boil out through my pores.
If you call me, call to talk to me, not to another person in the room, with whom you choose to get into an argument while I listen to the taudry details of whether or not you owned a particular brand of skillet. I do NOT care.
If you decide to drive on the left lane, please be aware that you are supposed to go a bit faster than the other people in the other lanes, because it is for passing. Don’t be a left lane vigilante and force the rest of humanity to go three miles under the speed limit out of the goodness of your heart. If I want a ticket, I will damn well earn it.
If the check-out line is for ten items or less, and you have 11 or 12 items, it’s no big deal to me. If you have a cartful of stuff, it becomes an issue. If you insist that you have a right to check out in that line because you are a taxpayer, or because you are in a hurry, it will cause a detonation of your milk jug all over your head.
While I am glad you wear boxers, I am NOT glad to see it. It is referred to as underwear for a reason. Unless you happen to be Heidi Klum or Jason Statham, pull your pants up and use a belt. You look like a convict.
If you are driving a vehicle that is capable of major damage, and even death, don’t use your freakin’ cellphone. Pull the hell over and answer it. And while you’re at it, put the damn thing away if you are eating at my table. I will toss the cellphone in the trash disposer if you insist on using it while eating dinner in my home.
Sigh…ok, I think I will stop for now. Too early for a beer.
But not too early for cookies 😀