Pet Peeves

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My pet peeves

Total strangers telling me what to do, especially square-dance callers.

Itchy labels on bungee ankle straps so I itch the whole way down.

When my opera cape gets caught on homeless people's junk.

Waiters who recite the specials in a bored singsong voice as if they don't really care what I eat.

Bad art in motel rooms, especially bad performance art.

When a woman stands near me and people think her ugly baby is mine and it is.

Dentists who cram my mouth full and don't even ask me one question, though I've been practicing all year.

Big, conceited bodies of water, especially Lake Superior.

When a can of cheap peas says "Pea Color and Size May Vary" and inside there's just one giant blue pea.

People who know way too much about the Merovingians or cheese.

Prank phone calls like the guy who called me selling light bulbs for the blind. Ha-ha. Very funny. You are sick, mister.

Barbecue restaurants with happy pigs on the sign.

Those foreign guys on the subway who pretend to read newspapers written in gibberish.

People on fire—they're always asking for favors, even if they hardly know you.

The way road signs talk to you in that stern, fatherly voice.

I never seem to meet those cheerful, uncomplicated women you see on tractor-trailer mud flaps.

When a lecturer takes a drink of water and doesn't offer us any.

I've been all over the world and have lived among every kind of culture and I can say, without any hesitation, that the most ignorant, rude, selfish, and self-centered people on earth are babies.

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