Just a few little things that get on my tits but really probably shouldn’t.
Standing still on escalators. I have seen people actually running between escalators, presumably in a rush, only to stand stoically still when on them, as if it will be considered bad etiquette to use your own energy when the escalator has been kind enough to offer its own. And, unless using an underground train escalator, ignorant people tend to stand in the way of those of us who do actually want to make any kind of forward progress. What a perfect metaphor for life.
Slow walkers. I genuinely do not know how slow walkers get anything done. They drive, I suppose; or do, in fact, get nothing done. It takes me about twenty minutes to walk from my flat into town – a slow walker would have to set aside most of the day to get to the city centre and back. I understand the preference to slow it down and appreciate the beauty of life around you when you go on a hike, but not when the function of walking is to get from A to B. What the slow walker also possesses is an inexplicable talent for blocking the whole pavement, whatever their size. It is like an optical illusion. An optical illusion you want to punch in the back of the head. Meh, stupid pacifist morals making this not an option.
Recycling bins. They make it easy for us. Packaging and the actual bins tell us what is recyclable and what is not. In the office where I ‘work’, we actually have a food recycling bin for (you guessed it) food, and another for everything else. So simple. So easy. So not adhered to. Frequently, I find food packaging in the food bin. While I understand a smidgen of logic has gone into my fellow human’s tiny tiny brain to make this decision, the bin clearly states it is just for food and even goes as far to advise that doesn’t mean the packaging the food came in. These same people got a vote in the EU Referendum this year. Exactly.
Trying to push a locked toilet door open. The toilets at my office are actually lovely in how self contained they are. You feel safe to do whatever needs to be done in there, without interruption. Until some douchebag decides to try and push the door open. Is it that difficult to visually check whether it is locked or not? No. No, it is not. Because I do it. Whether you get a stroker (almost a tender, loving push on the door, like some sort of door whisperer is trying to get inside) or the ones who genuinely sound like they are going at it with a run up and their shoulder, my main issue with this idiocy is that – just for that split second, fully aware of how vulnerable you are – you wonder whether you did actually lock that door.
Noise in the cinema. This problem, for anyone with any kind of intelligence, is obvious. Why people spend £10 on a film they are going to talk through is baffling. Talking is great, a beautiful thing, but there are places to do it – pubs, cafes, home, wide open spaces, most places that are NOT A CINEMA. Talk as much as you want through the adverts and trailers or make the odd quiet comment to your cinema buddy during the feature presentation, I am not unreasonable, but you are not in your living room. Watch the fucking film. In addition to this, stop with the eating from packets that rustle (yeah, I am looking at you default cinema food, popcorn). These packets tend to remain undisturbed throughout the adverts and are ritually started/opened as the film certificate comes up. LUNATICS.
Rude swimmers. I have come to the conclusion that approximately 75% of swimmers are awful awful human beings. There are many different kinds.
a) Lane stealers: The relief and satisfaction of claiming a clear lane at the pool makes it all worthwhile. You’re safe then to do your thing until you cannot be arsed anymore. Until someone decides to align themselves within your path. Do they see that the pool is full and pick on the weakest looking person to push aside? It would seem so.
b) Lane encroachers: I swim in a small pool at a health club, so it can, admittedly, get quite cramped. But some people just cannot judge the space they and I require, and end up encroaching on the amount of pool I need to function as a swimmer. It is really bloody difficult to shake your head disapprovingly when in when swimming.
c) Lane interrupters: Picture the scene. I am in the pool by myself, swimming up and down, looking totes hot obviously, and an incoming perfectly able-bodied human decides to use the steps to get into the pool (the steps you have been swimming past happily for the last few minutes) which forces you to have to swim around their awkward descent. Why not use the steps the other side of the pool or lower yourself in from any of the sides? Because you are part of the 75%, scumbag.
d) Divers: NO DIVING says the sign right behind the person diving into the pool, as I approach them. The sign is asking you to not do something for your own safety, and more importantly, for my sanity. Please do as it says.
e) Non-swimmers: If you want to fanny around, splashing each other or just idly chatting within a potential swim lane, well…don’t. Not if the pool is full of swimmers. Sit in a bathtub with each other or something.
Shower curtain hitting legs. It isn’t the wetness of the curtain, as some gust of wind somehow forces it onto your leg; for wetness in a shower is a given. It is its chill of the cooled down water compared with the freshly heated stuff hitting your skin from the shower head. It is uncomfortable and it is strangely creepy. It needs to stop.