Women with prams
I genuinely think that the only people that aren’t pissed off by women with prams are women with prams. For unknown reasons, these women seem to think that just because they have a brat-mobile they have the right of way. Everywhere. Shops, lifts, buses. This belief seems to go to the extent that they will use their child as a weapon against anyone who gets in their way. They will literally fire those prams towards you and expect you to move. Bitch, please. These women are so lucky that I am not the type of person to roundhouse kick a child but my point is, they don’t know that. They are willing to launch their little prides of joy at you in order to grab that last pack of chilli heat wave doritos without giving a moment’s thought to the actual possibility that, just maybe, you won’t move. And you just know that these are the kinds of women who are going to start hollering about ‘the police’ and ‘suing’ and ‘GBH’ just because little Jimmy happens to have a foot print on the side of his face. Hope the doritos were worth it.
Men who wait until they are outside the toilets to do up their flies.
Seriously guys, what the hell. Have you noticed that there are separate areas for women to go to the toilet and men to go to the toilet? Noticed there are signs on the door just in case you can’t read? If you’re blind, you may even have noticed little braille signs saying ‘GIRLDEM ONLY’ or ‘GUYDEM ONLY’ (sort of)? Yeah, the reason for that is because girls don’t actually want to see what you men are doing in there. I’ve occasionally had the displeasure of catching a glimpse of the insides of a men’s toilet and I must say I am scarred. I won’t go into details on here but I’m sure everyone is aware of the smell that lingers around that door. I just have images of men comparing the sizes of their thingys, using the urinals for things they shouldn’t be used for and smearing unsavoury things on the walls. I never want to go into that place. Nor do I ever want to see anything that implies you may have been doing any of the above. We all know you went to that room to do a number 1 or a number 2, but you don’t need to shove it in our faces by waltzing out of there doing up your flies and giving us a big, content sigh.
People who complain just for the sake of complaining
I’ve been a waitress for a number of years but had to quit due to the fact I was going to beat the shit out of the next customer who complained to me. I don’t have a problem with people that have a legitimate complaint to make. I would argue that, yes, pouring an entire beer down one customers back probably did warrant a small complaint and a free dinner. As did the customer who ended up with his pizza on his lap. However, I take serious issue with people that complain because they know it’ll get them something for free.
One of the most annoying customers I ever had was a man who looked like the slimier version of Nick Griffin. He started by staring at my chest for a good 3 minutes (sorry mate, you’re not going to find a lot there) before ordering a starter platter. All for himself. Which is just greedy. He got about 4/5 through his fatman starter before calling me over to tell me he’d ‘found a pube in his food’. From the outset this seemed wildly unlikely because I’m 100% sure the chefs didn’t cook in the nude, but he was adamant that this hair was a pubic one. I’d also like to point out that the chef on duty that night was bald. I’m not saying I know if he was bald ‘down there’, but since it obviously was not a down there hair, it had to have come from someone’s head, and it wasn't the chefs. I’d also like to point out, this slimy little twit had a really attractive mass of wiry, coarse, brown hair sprouting from his head. And his eyebrows. And his nose. And probably his ears.
Basically, it was clearly his own bloody hair that he’d malted into his own bloody food. But instead of acknowledging that yes, he was a hairy douchebag and yes, the chef who cooked his food was bald, and yes, the waitress who brought him his food was blonde, he decided to kick up an almighty fuss and get all his food for free. What. The. Hell. I wanted to take him by the nose hair and smash his face into the remainder of his stupid sharing platter which, coincidentally, he’d eaten all the best bits of before complaining. Prick.
People who chew parts of their own body.
There is a girl in one of my seminars who eats her own hair. I kid you not. She literally sits there and eats her own frickin’ hair. And if that isn’t bad enough, instead of just….swallowing, she’ll sit there and use it as some kind of floss for her teeth. I can hear her tongue rolling around her mouth, making sure that piece of hair touches all corners of her mouth. It is literally all I can do not to throw up on her. Whenever she sits next to me my heart sinks because I know I’m going to get an hour of hair munching and as much as I try to ignore it I just can’t.
She also bites her nails. FILTHY, FILTHY HABIT. Everyone knows that all kinds of germs are hangin’ around under your nails so why the hell would you want to put that anywhere near your mouth? She then chews these nails for a bit before spitting them out. On the floor. She is asking for me to do a murder to her. This also goes for people that chew the skin off the sides of their nails and then eat it. Self-cannibalism ain’t sexy, people.
I could literally write about this topic all frickin’ night, but I’m also enraged by people who moan that they haven’t had enough sleep when they have no reason to still be awake so instead I’m going to bed. Ciao!
