Last year I skipped my pet peeves blog because I had nothing new to be pissed about. It was the same old shit. If you want to see what some of my pet peeves are, you can click here and here for a taste. This is one of my favorite blogs to write because I don’t have to even pretend to be nice. Be forewarned, this is peppered with foul language. You are supposed to snicker, laugh, smirk, roll your eyes, and generally have a good time with this post.
Since I last posted the pet peeves blog, I have become a travel agent. As you read along, you’ll notice that some of my new pet peeves are travel related and others are still food or dining related. Here we go…
Dining and Drinking
A while back we had company in from out of town, I made a reservation at a butcher shop/eatery in the Summerlin area (notice I didn’t mention their name, but you Las Vegas locals can figure this out). We arrived a few minutes early and I expected to wait until our actual reservation time. We waited more than 30 minutes PAST our reservation time. What exactly is the fucking point of making a reservation if you are going to make me wait anyway? I understand the place was busy, and a short wait of a few minutes wouldn’t have put this on my pet peeves list. As a former server, I understand that you can’t make people leave. The part that REALLY pissed me off is that we weren’t even given an apology other than a halfhearted “Sorry. We’re really busy tonight,” from the hostess. (My response was “Yes, I expected that. That’s why I made a reservation.”) The manager never approached us or apologized, and we weren’t offered a complimentary glass of water, let alone a cocktail, while we waited. Needless to say, I haven’t been back there, have no plans to ever dine there again, but I will, and have, hit up the butcher shop.
This one really chapped my ass last weekend. While at a bar celebrating a friend’s birthday, The Hubs and I left our perches at the bar (we arrived a little early and were able to snag bar stools) to go dance. Our drinks, my handbag, and a friend were left to “guard” our seats. A couple walked up to order from the bar and promptly sat in our seats. When told “someone is sitting there” they rolled their eyes at my friend and didn’t move when we returned until I gave her the death glare. To add insult to injury, the bitch swirled her drink with a swizzle stick and plopped said stick into The Hubs’ drink. Yes, really. The excellent bar staff saw this and replaced the beverage. If you are old enough to go into a bar, act like it isn’t your first time.
Other People’s Feet
I know travel can be stressful and uncomfortable, but seriously people leave your fucking shoes on! No one wants to see your nasty feet. Clipping toenails in public? C’mon! And give it a thought, the floors of the plane, airport, or wherever you are walking barefoot have had people walking with who-knows-what on the soles of their shoes. Rodeo time in Vegas? You can bet there is horse or cow shit that you are walking on with your bare feet.
Using My Seat
One of my biggest pet peeves right now since I have been flying a lot is the use of my seat. If you must get up, kindly use your damn armrests to heave your fat ass out of your seat. DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT, use the seat back in front of you. I have been woken from a dead sleep by the passenger behind me yanking my seat back and pulling my hair. I have nearly spilled my beverage down my front by someone grabbing my seat back and hauling their ass out of their seat. Also, for fuck’s sake don’t “man spread” yourself into my seat either.
Recently on a cruise (and I am finalizing that post as well), I had people literally shove me out of their way. Do not touch me if you don’t know me other than to shake my hand. Do not crowd up my back while in line or paying for something using my credit card.
This is one of my consistent pet peeves. I am a smoker. Don’t judge. If I am in a designated smoking area doing my thing, you can go fuck off. Don’t come by waving your hands in front of your face making remarks about smoking. I could not possibly care less what you think if I am in a designated smoking area. If I am not s’posed to be smoking somewhere and you tell me politely, I will move. This goes for bars, casinos, sidewalks, anywhere outdoors, etc. If you are rude about it, I will tell you to fuck off and then move. And before the comments start rolling in, don’t lecture me on quitting. You aren’t my mother or my doctor (who have already lectured me ad nauseum on this topic).
Don’t tell me I would be prettier if I smiled more. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think of my looks. I have resting bitch face. Deal with it. Usually this happens to women and not to men. How would a man feel if I told him, “You’d be more handsome if you smiled more”?
And finally on this year’s list of pet peeves, Hand Washing
Wash your hands you filthy animal. I can’t tell you how many times I see women walk out of the rest room without washing their hands. The Hubs and the Offspring see men do it all the time. It makes me cautious about shaking people’s hands. If they didn’t wash up, and I shake a man’s hand it’s like I am touching their dick. There is a certain amount of “ick factor” about that. Wash your damn hands. That’s the best protection.
Of course these are my opinions and my pet peeves. Feel free to comment about yours! I’d love to hear them.