Don Your Way column: Toilet rolls, cash machines, waitresses and taps - the minor things that make me angry
What makes you angry?
We’re not talking the big issues here (Brexit, politics, football etc) but the minor every day annoyances that drive you up the wall.
Each and every day, we’re confronted by the same kind of irritants and bugbears that made Michael Douglas snap in Falling Down.
And over the past week, I seem to have encountered more than my fair share of them.
And here, in no particular order, are my pet hates, the things I’d confine to Room 101 and which have been grinding my gears over the last seven days.
First up, people who take ages at the cash machine. Why do I always get stuck behind those who look like they’ve never encountered an ATM in their lives before? (the same applies to self-service checkouts).
And don’t get me started on people who dawdle on the pavement, merrily gazing at their phones, blissfully unaware of life going on all around them. There’s a definite argument for a slow and fast lane on Doncaster’s pavements.
While we’re talking being buried deep in our own little worlds, why do you have to untangle your headphones every time you want to use them? The same magic fairies which snag up the Christmas lights each year are obviously at it all year round.
Then there’s people with insanely small cars - Minis and Smart car owners, I’m talking about you here. Yep, there’s nothing wrong with owning one, but you’ll never understand the frustration of thinking you’ve found an empty spot in a busy car park, only to find the space that you though was empty is just a tiny set of wheels taking up just half the front of the bay.
Or what about high-powered taps in public toilets, the ones that send water cascading into the sink like Niagra Falls and leave you looking like you’ve had an accident?
Never mind, I’ll just use this hand drier....oh hang on, its not working...I’ll just dry my hands on my already soaking trousers then should I?
And after that, I can head home to open my new purchase, one that’s sealed inside one of those annoying airtight packs that you need an industrial saw and the help of the World’s Strongest Man to get inside.
That’s assuming I don’t stop off on the way for a meal somewhere, only to have the waitress come over during my first mouthful and as I’m biting down on dinner have her ask: “Is everything alright with your meal?” (see also dentists who ask you if you’ve had any problems with your teeth when your gob is full of half a dozen metal implements).
And don’t even mention when the end of the toilet roll tears into little strips when you try to unstick the end.
Feel free to tell me your own pet peeves.