The title of this post is a comment I recently got, by phone, from a reader. OK, it was my Dad. At first I thought, you know, 'God, here I've been trying to make sensitive yet witty observations about my life and it comes off as bitching.' Then I realized that bitching is my special talent. Without the ability to bitch, I wouldn't be funny. I'd be ... wholesome. Kind. Unable to read US Weekly with a clear conscience.
I also realized that, like or not, I learned it from watching you, Dad. My father is extraordinarily intelligent, caring, generous, and successful. However, he has also been known to call inanimate objects "assholes", as in "Come on, you asshole!" to a key that won't fit in a lock. I have inherited this trait and taken it to a new, more complex level. I sometimes passive aggressively mock things, as if to humiliate them into compliance. I'll look witheringly at my computer as it freezes, saying "Oh, yes. Thank you. THANK YOU SO MUCH. That's EXACTLY what I wanted you to do right now." I can't wait till I have kids!
So there, I admit it. I rant and rave at the slightest provocation. I have a whole Seinfeldian list of things that irk me. So that I don't pollute my later postings with idiosyncratic whining, I present to you, in no particular order, the top 10 reasons I am glad that I don't carry a gun:
1. People who lean against the pole in a subway car so that you can't hold on to it. I think that if the fare price rises above $2, everyone should get a free taser.
2. People who stand at the entrance to the subway talking on their cell phones. Even worse are people who stand halfway down the stairs doing this. If you are standing at the top of a flight of stairs and are blocking people, as long as you are not elderly or disabled, I think that I should have the right to kick you in the ass.
3. People who block the elevator button while you are waiting so that you can't track the progress of the elevator (I realize that seeing what floor it's on won't make it arrive any faster, but still, I like to know).
4. Men who wait until you have already passed them and then whistle or whisper something at you. If you're going to publicly harass me, sack up and do it to my face.
5. Any sales clerk or employee of a place that provides a service who asks me repeatedly if I need help. I realize that this is their job, and probably a factor in their take-home pay, but I'd like for there to be two entrances for every store: one for people who need help and/or enjoy speaking to strangers and one for misanthropic snobs who know exactly what they want like me.
6. Anyone who uses the phrase "deja-vu all over again". This is redundant.
7. Anyone who uses the phrase "let's all get on the same page". Unless you are referring to a specific page in a book that we are reading simultaneously, I am not on the same page as you are.
8. People who call me Uma (although, really, this is Uma Thurman's fault).
9. People who sign their emails "Peace". I believe in peace. I really do. However, how can you ever really trust a sign-off used both by Joan Baez and Kriss Kross?
10. Inanimate assholes, including, but not limited to: my computer, my keys, my dishwasher, my purse, my wallet, my cabinet doors, subway turnstiles, door handles, locks, elevators, printers, fax machines, telephones, televisions, VCRS, DVDs, remote controls, my hair, various cosmetics, shoes, zippers, clasps, buttons, loud noises, rain, wind, snow, excessive cold and/or heat, and puddles.
Yes, I just called puddles "assholes". Poor, defenseless little puddles. I also hate cats. You may send hate mail to the attention of Uma LaMarche. Peace.