Pet Peeves, Rational and Otherwise

A series of events took place yesterday that compelled me to chat about something that plays a pretty significant role in my life: pet peeves.

I can practically hear my friends and family rolling their eyes at my mention of the topic since my extensive list of pet peeves probably tops their personal lists of pet peeves. I can hardly blame them, though; on any given day I can muster up a rage so hot that I have to yell and leave the room because they are chewing, breathing, or sniffling too loudly. It’s a quality that I dislike about myself but it’s out of my control. I must be a nightmare to live with and I’m not sure how my family made it 20-something years, off and on, and why Justin hasn’t peaced out with a bag of chips in one hand and Brody’s leash in the other.

Oh, and while we’re on the topic of Brody, I admit with a mingled sense of pride and shame that he knows enough to leave the room if he is going to lick his foot or anything. Seriously, he will go to put his foot in his mouth, look over at me, and then get up and go into the hallway. Even the hound is sick of my squawking.

A friend recently mentioned that it might not just be a pet peeve from which I suffer, but rather an actual disease. Per Wikipedia, “Misophonia, literally “hatred of sound,” is a form of decreased sound tolerance” and is thought to be the result of a physiological abnormality. I haven’t been diagnosed, per se, mostly because I assume the exam would include some chewing sounds, but I think I can safely say that I am afflicted.

Now I am going to stand by my opinion that some of my pet peeves are legitimate. Not all, but some. But I fully and readily admit that a few of them are straight up irrational. They don’t make a lick of sense and I have no idea where they originated. Most of the irrational ones are pretty harmless and are just met with an eye roll, unlike some of the “rational” ones that might be met with a piercing glare, gnashing of the teeth and, if Santa got my letter, some noise-cancelling headphones.

To my amazement, I found myself staring 3 of these irrational peeves in the face yesterday afternoon. I was on the elevator after work and a group of suits got on a few floors below mine. The first peeve reared its ugly head just as the doors started to close:

Irrational peeve #1: people who get on the elevator and push the button for the first floor even though it’s already pushed
This happens all the time and it drives me bananas. If the button is lit up, you don’t have to push it. It has been taken care of already. If you push the button again because you feel awkward and you don’t know what else to do, take a cue from everyone else and take your phone out and pretend to check your email even though we don’t get reception on the elevator. Just know that by pushing the button again, you are giving the impression that you don’t think that it was pushed effectively the first time, which is stupid because it’s just a button.

I had barely lowered my eyebrow from that peeve when the next one made an appearance:

Irrational peeve #2: overuse of words like dude, bro, and buddy
“So I was at sushi with my buddy the other day and he was like ‘dude, we should get edamame’ and I was like ‘bro, we totally should.'” The more you use words like these to describe your wicked cool friends, the less people believe that you actually have wicked cool friends.

I hightailed it out of the elevator as soon as I could and headed out the door to my car. As I was about to cross the street, I was faced with the fiercest of all of my irrational pet peeves:

Irrational peeve #3: when you are taking part in some sort of commute and you wave for a person to go ahead and they wave back, indicating that you should go instead
Look, I understand that manners are nearly extinct and I appreciate a kind gesture as much as the next person, but we all have places to be. This is no time for a battle of courtesy. If I wave you on, there is a probably a reason, so please just go. Don’t try to one-up me by graciously shaking your head and sweeping your arm. That makes me seethe. It doesn’t matter if we’re both in cars, if you’re a pedestrian and I’m in a car, if I’m a pedestrian and you’re in a car, or if we’re both pedestrians; if someone waves you on, please. Please just go.

It’s a wonder I made it through my commute home without throwing a city bus.

Does anyone else have any peeves, rational or otherwise, that they would like to share? Please tell me I’m not alone…