Bits And Pieces

Just What Annoys You

     We all have our special pet peeves, the little annoyances that grate on our dispositions and stir up our dander.  The everyday, petty blood pressure raisers that make our days happy or frustrating depend upon how many of these irritations we encounter.

     For instance, why do all the movie houses in the neighborhood show the same picture on the same night?

     Comes Friday night and I've finally talked Pop into attending a show rather than watch the late movie on TV--so what happens?  Every theater near and far is showing some same double torture.  Something like "I Was A Teenage Monster" or "Bikini Ballyhoo".  That picture I've wanted to see when it appeared in the Loop and missed has suddenly dropped out of sight.

     Or do you spot a picture you'd like to see, you must sit through two or even three others in order to view your favorite.  You limp out of the theater hours later feeling you've been attending a "sitathon."

     Another little matter which riles the temper of a housewife is the glue used in attaching price tags to articles purchased--especially glassware.  You can't peel, rub, or even wash it off and regardless of what you do, an ugly, dull spot is left on the new purchase.  Even scouring pads won't budge this too permanent adhesive.  Now couldn't stores use something more easily removed and save our dispositions?

     Speaking of household irritations, how about those plastic handles on combs or household brushes that constantly break off with a snap in your hand? Or buying those leaky milk cartons at the store and bringing it home unnoticed to drip slowly all over the refrigerator?  Maddening isn't it?

     There are people who call on the telephone, who mispronounce your name and launch into a sales pitch about your name being especially selected for a tempting gift.  Now you're intrigued by the possibility of a free offer so you listen--only to discover that someone wants to apply aluminum siding to your brick home or carpet your newly carpeted living room.

     Get behind the wheel of a car and aggravations are everywhere.  The fellow blasts his horn simultaneously with the changing of the crossing light.  Or that horn blower who is signaling her commuter husband from the other side of the street and tortures your eardrums by the din.

     You see a parking spot up the line, stop patiently to let someone turn in front of you and that car slips into your hoped for parking place.

     A special pain are the every-man-for-himself intersections where you are bound to meet someone special just about to cross your path.  Braking the car to a stop you both stare at each other--both signal to go ahead and then you both start up again--together.

     Right in front of the store you want to shop is a convenient parking meter--you congratulate yourself and then you try to put your nickel in the meter.  The money won't go in and you're faced with a problem.  Should you take a chance and dash into the store leaving the meter marked "expired" or pull out and seek another spot?

     An exasperation and one we just take for granted is this business of waiting for appointments.

     So you're supposed to see the dentist, the doctor, the hairdresser at two.  You're there early with the optimistic hope that you'll be in and out ahead of time.  But you wait and you wait and once you're in, there is never an apology anymore for keeping you waiting--this is something accepted and expected only doesn't it raise your blood pressure a notch or two?

     What about the fellow who asks if you've heard a particular joke and when you reply you have, he proceeds to tell it to you all over again?  Or the maddening fact that you have to know how to spell a word before you can look for it in the dictionary?

     Betcha  you can think of a lot more to add to your own personal gripe list; all depends upon how you meet the public--handle your own life and your mood of the moment.

   Written March 11, 1965