Don’t Get Me Started!

A non-Catholic,  I’ve never been to confession—probably a good thing considering the number of evil thoughts I have concerning other people’s behavior. For example, I can barely contain myself when a supposedly educated person says, “They gave a party for Jim and I.”  How hard is it to master pronoun case, for Pete’s sake? Or when writers (especially those with college degrees insert an opening parenthesis but not a closing one—as I just did. Here are ten people whose habits drive me up the wall:

—The overweight nurse leaning against the outside wall of the hospital taking  her cigarette break

— The friend who says, “Well, let me go,” after he called me to chat during the whole first half of Sixty Minutes

— Men and women who see nothing uncouth about clipping or filing their nails in restaurants

— A husband who hogs the remote and keeps switching back and forth between CNN and the Miami Dolphins game (“Today the House of Representatives . . . scored his second touchdown!”)

— The female acquaintance who thinks dispensing air kisses is a sign of good breeding

— The waiter who says, “How’s everything?” at the precise moment I am about to deliver the punch line of my joke

— The woman and her squalling infant occupying  the window seat next me on our forthcoming five-hour flight  (I know, I know, but still . . .)

— The pathetic, visible “notice me, notice me” plea of the tattooed teenager

— The otherwise attractive man who has convinced himself that his comb-over adds to his sex appeal

— The doctor who demands that I arrive promptly at 8:50 a.m. then leaves me reading Your Health Today until 9:35

“Why,” said Henry Higgins, “can’t people be more like me?”  My sentiments exactly!

One Unhappy Traveler