Time to Pet The Peeve

 Each and every one of us are blessed with gifts and afflicted with faults. Often those of us who have the most prominent assets also have monumental shortcomings in other areas. The life of the party may be insecure, the shy one a genius, and the athlete illiterate. We all have great things about us and things we'd rather change.

  At the time of this writing, I am waiting for an article to be published on a rather large website. In my mind, the work is relevant and the editor is taking far too long to get around to approving it . While the rational part of my mind says that the sports editor is probably up to his eyeballs in op-ed, there is a  part of my brain that is slightly annoyed. Like so many of us, I am impatient.

 Each of us is possessed with a fuse of varying length that may grow or shorten depending on the situation. I am personally most easy-going around children or those who need me in one way or another. I'm tolerant of most people and situations, but to a point. There seems to be a preconceived time-limit on circumstances that I am not always aware of, or at least able to control. Combine this with the fact that the little bastard in my cranium thinks you should know when I'm starting to get irritated and I can come across as being a petulant ox.

  Like most people afflicted with impatience, I can play the role of the most understanding person on the planet when I secretly want you to stop inquiring about each of the cashier's 9 children and get the heck out of the way before I mentally throttle you to death with my imaginary garrote. The watched pot may never boil, but my blood will while I'm waiting for it to; impatiently of course. I also blame the victim of my impatience, which I realize afterward is absolutely self-centered but is my go-to weapon at the time.

  So if you are willing to be patient enough to get to know this selfish, impatient jerk until she can afford monumental amounts of therapy, I'll be highly grateful . Even better, I'll tell you what to do to bring out the best in me and how to not annoy the shit out of my prickly personality.

  #1: Your New Mate Is Not War and Peace

  While I'm sure that the aspiring waiter you met off of Facebook is a really great guy, going on about someone you have never met for 6 hours will inspire me to mentally murder you. The more adjectives you use to describe someone or something, the more I'm going to think you are full of shit. Nobody is that fan-fucking-tastic, and we both know it. I get it, he's wonderful. Let's move on please.

  #2: Your Ex Is Also Not War and Peace
 
  Yes, Jimmy is a douchebag and he cheated on you and peed on the toilet seat, but you also dated for 2 weeks. Going on for 3 days about how much of an asshole he is and every time he farted at the dinner table will not make anything better. If he's such a jerk, why are you wasting more words than are in the Talmud on him?

  #3: Your New Dog, House, and Car Aren't War and Peace Either

  Your 16-bedroom manse is really rad, and I do get it. You worked hard to get where you are and have the pedigreed Poodles and Maserati to show for it. But I am a visual person. I can process a massive amount of information in a short period of time. So don't talk about it so much- introduce me to your new toy or Bengal cat.
  See that vacant look on my face? That is me trying to not smash your face into one of the 62 individually-designed toilets in your castle that you insist on describing in intricate detail. Yes, you are vastly more successful than me. Making me feel insecure about that fact doesn't make you a better person, it makes you an asshole.

  #4: I Am Not A Political Point

  We are all different humans. Some of us are tall or short, some religious, some gay or straight. I do not speak for every gay person, every woman, every construction worker, or any of the other titles you saddle me with.
  I am me and you're free to ask me any question you want and I'm likely to answer you. Going on a broad-based rant about how feminists steal the jobs of deserving men will do you no favours here. Giving me an unsolicited spiel on how Jesus was a Jew or how I'm going to Hell for this or that will piss me off. I have zero time for preconceived notions based on what you think I should be, which brings me to..

#5: Keep Your Bible Off My Balls

  So you used to be a playboy and then you found religion. I'm really happy that you have found someone or something to give the responsibility of your life to. I'm really glad that you have decided to blame Godlessness instead of your own stupidity for the fact that you used to be an absolute bag of shit. Moreover, I'm thrilled with the fact that you want to give a metaphysical being the credit for turning your life around. Anything that makes you a better person now is absolutely awesome and I'm genuinely happy for you.
  That being said, just because I don't believe in your Spaceman doesn't give you the right to ram it down my throat. People have various belief systems and while I am willing to come to some understanding of what you believe in, there is no amount of blabbing about the glory of Jesus or Allah that will convert me to your faith. If you tell me that your newfound God is going to doom me to Hell, I'm going to tell you to go to Hell.

#6: You And I Have Different Sets Of Genitals

  Anyone who knows me for awhile knows that there are certain things that make me extremely uncomfortable. The major thing I cannot get my head around is the idea that other people have genitals. Your private parts should be kept that way in my presence. If I ask you where you were, just say that you were at the Gynocologist's. You do not need to qualify it with any explanation. I do not want to know about the primordial ooze that caused you to go there. I do not want to know the consistency, colour, or flavour of whatever has invaded your crotch, and certainly not while I'm trying to eat an enchilada.
  Be assured that there MAY be a time and a place for such discussion, but it's surely nowhere near me and not while I'm eating much.

Finally, #7 : Do Not Ask If I Am Listening

  I'm a thinker, and by that I mean thinking about something other than your ingrown toenail. In all seriousness however, if we are engaged in a conversation, it should be a given that I am indeed listening to you. If I tune you out for a brief second, I will return. Your voice is absolutely important to me and questioning it makes me feel like you think I'm a prick. If you poke me, snap your fingers at me, or kick me I will take it as an offensive gesture. Be nice to me and don't inquire about my sincerity and I'll be your friend til the end.

Okay, One Last Thing : Don't Take Food Off Of My Plate

  This is the thing that irritates me the most of anything I can think of. If you are over the age of 12, I may have a primal reaction to it. This may be rooted in some childhood baggage, so please do not test me. I cannot be held responsible for any action that may result. I have reflexively growled at people and stabbed one person with a fork. It is not cute and I will leave the table. This is a "thou shalt not EVER" thing. You have been warned.

  I have friends that I love dearly and they love me back. We all get under the skin of those around us from time to time and all have particular peeves. I hope you have had a little fun with the things that get on my nerves  and by all means, feel free to share the things that irk you most about the human conversation spectrum.

And here's a song to inspire you or cause you to perspire