Archive for the ‘People I Hate’ Category

People I Hate #333 (In A Series)

October 14, 2017

Who: The guy who says “Don’t leave me hangin’” when he tries to high-five you.

Why: It doesn’t matter where you are – chatting in a parking lot, sitting in a staff meeting, walking across campus – someone will say something or do something and he’ll feel the need to punctuate the moment with a high-five. The moment doesn’t need it. The high-five is awkward, unprovoked and completely egregious. But there it is, suspended aloft, awaiting reciprocation. The last thing you want to do is high-five this douchebag. Maybe you don’t like him or perhaps it’s just that the high-five is so misplaced and ridiculous that by even acknowledging it you risk lowering yourself to his idiotic level. Yet there it is, that plaintive hand and that challenging entreaty: Don’t leave me hangin’! And still you should. You should leave him hangin’. He’s a tool with absolutely no ability to read a social situation and you should totally leave him hangin’ in any way that concept can be interpreted.

How I justify it: If the situation warranted a high-five, I would have already freakin’ high-fived you and so you wouldn’t need to beg me to validate your stupid existence.

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People I Hate #781 (In A Series)

January 31, 2017

Who: The guy whistling in the men’s room

Why I Hate Him: He’s whistling in the men’s room!

How I justify it: There’s supposed to be a code, okay. It’s the men’s room – you have one item of business to attend to (okay, technically, one of two). You get in, you get out, no eye contact, no small talk – perhaps a congenial nod or howdy if you pass a co-worker but otherwise it’s a place sans communication, vocalization and jubilation. THERE’S NO WHISTLING! That’s just creepy and off-putting and it makes me clench up mid-stream … so … so knock it off, ya screwball!

People I Hate #789 (In A Series)

December 25, 2016

Who: The guy who, when singing Jingle Bells, belts out “Ha Ha HAH!” right after the “laughing all the way” line.

Why: He’s usually part of a choral or a cappella group or maybe just a bloke who’s had one too many at an office holiday party. Regardless, he thinks it the height of seasonal joviality and outright hilarity to punctuate a simple line in a yuletide favorite with some boisterous pretend mirth as if anyone hearing the song couldn’t understand the concept of someone “laughing all the way” (which isn’t, by the way, literally “laughing all the way” like some maniac in a Napoleon XIV song but more of an illustration of how joyous the sleigh ride actually is). He doesn’t think it necessary to pepper other lines from the song with extraneous sound effects. I mean, there’s no horse whinny or bobtail growl (I will admit to being somewhat vague on what the other lyrics are but, still, the point is made). Basically, his desire to be the center of attention supplants any regard for his audience, fellow singers or musical sensibilities.

How I justify it: He’s just some grandstanding doofus who deserves coal in stocking and a damn good thrashing by the Krampus.

People I Hate (#53 in a series)

April 24, 2016

Who: The picky kid who makes a “suicide.”

Why I Hate: He stands there at the soda fountain, spying all the possible options – caffeine-free, diet, off brand, raspberry, ginger ale – and wondering exactly what to put in his “suicide” mixture. He starts off, maybe, with a little Coca-Cola and then adds some Orange drink like Fanta or Sunkist. But what next? His tiny mind is reeling with possibilities, so he takes a stab at some other cola. Nope, false start. How about Coke Zero? Wait – isn’t that diet? Oh, yeah … Dr. Pepper! That rules. A little of that definitely.

And so it goes, on and on, a 32 ounce cup filled 3 ounces at a time with healthy pauses in between while he utilizes his still-developing cerebellum to make a bloody decision. And he thinks this ridiculous concoction (which he believes he’s the first person to discover) has a magic formula that if he can somehow just happen upon by trial and error his taste buds will achieve soda nirvana. But he’s mistaken. Normally, a soda “suicide” tastes like ass; at best, some crappy store brand. So what’s the point of making one besides silly childhood experimentation that could easily be accomplished by simply hitting each soda in turn, an act that takes 15 seconds tops!

How I Justify It: His indecision might be cute and adorable if he weren’t taking an unnecessarily long time to do a relatively simple task in a busy convenience store or restaurant, while the entire time I’M STANDING RIGHT BEHIND HIM WAITING MY TURN!!!! Move it along, you little snot. It’s only soda!

People I Hate #714 (In A Series)

December 29, 2015

Who: The guy who jogs in the street when there’s a sidewalk.

Why: He’s out for a run – probably shirtless and wearing a Fitbit, so I already dislike the guy – but he’s not running on the sidewalk. Why not? The sidewalk is right there. He can’t miss it, can he? I mean, it runs parallel to the bloody street! But no, he eschews the sidewalk for its unevenness, its texture, its elevation, who the hell knows? All I can see is he’s running in the damn street when there’s a perfectly good sidewalk ten feet away.

How I justify it: He’s a douchebag nuisance who believes his desire for fitness supersedes traffic and pedestrian safety. Moreover, he deserves to have the imprint of my Camry’s front grill tattooed on his ass.