To be sure, there are a great many things in this world that I am not particularly fond of. Today I would award the coveted trophy of Most Acidic Irritant which Drains My Sanity to people who, when exiting a parking lot, don't realize that if they're making a left turn, there is NO REASON ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH that they have to pull out farther than I -- who is making a right turn.
Really. Since I'll be turning into the flow of traffic, I'll be exiting the lot first. So few seem to grasp this. I end up on the verge of turning when my view is suddenly blocked by some half wit babyfactory mismanuvering her Goliath of a van. If it were just a matter of a simple accident, that would be forgivable -- but that's not the case. These people are hellbent on being FIRST. First out of a parking lot. Perhaps I should pity them.
Other Points of Non-Interest:
-- Use the fucking ashtray. That would be the flippable apparatus located beneath the radio -- rather than the deer carcass-strewn ditches and my windshield.
-- Say, why not put your grocery cart in front of you? It's entirely possible, though not likely, that I might have pressing matters to attend to. Having to look at an empty cart that impedes me from loading the conveyer with my groceries while a person roots through their collection of outdated lotto tickets in search of their food stamp card, might just skew my important schedule.
-- So I live in a place where you pump the gas before you pay. Maybe I overlooked the fact that I was in a real city where you have to pay first. Maybe getting on the loudspeaker and tersely bellowing a humiliating explanation of the proper gas/pay procedure to me is overkill.
-- That duct tape wrapped around the severed remains of what used to be the handle is the best knob you're going to get, Mail Lady. Save yourself your little yellow fix-it slips and just damned well deal with it. You can bitch, but I didn't see a thank you note after I removed the hornet's nest. Typical.