Thursday, December 08, 2005

Should I Hate or Should I Go

...You are on the phone with me and eating at the same time. Do you have any idea how disgusting it is to have to listen to your chewing while I’m on the other end? I have a hard enough time dealing with chewing in person, but then to have it amplified directly into my ear, it’s just disgusting. I don’t understand why it is necessary to eat right now, you can’t wait five minutes longer until we’re done or just say, I’ll call you back WHEN I’M DONE EATING? The long pauses when your taking your next bite, the ums, ah, um, this that and the other fucking thing, please stop chewing while I’m hating you.

...You wear a huge backpack on the subway during rush hour. You’re 30 and still wearing a backpack? I won’t even hate you for that, but for taking up the space of three people in a crowded subway, oh that’s hate worthy. You don’t even just take up more than your allotted space, you like turn and turn and turn and hit as many people as you possibly can thereby creating an entire circle of hate.

...You strategically flip up half of your blazer collar. You are so cool because you’re a little disheveled and you don’t care. So apathetic about your clothing, you just threw that blazer on as you were running out the door, just because. I wish it were true, but tragically, you are a loser. You painstakingly labor for hours in front of the mirror trying to get the look juuuuussst right. Get it straight, you are not 16 anymore, you are not in prep school rebelling against an authoritative figurehead. You are a banker that makes a shitload of money and has nothing better to do than to be hated by me.

...You are a girl I met a few weeks back and have a name that begins with an A and is now the first number in my phone. Ok I probably should have given you the cell phone delete by now, but I didn’t, just never thought of it. Then of course last night I’m going to dial someone’s number and somehow hit send on the first number that came up. Now I look like the loser for calling you weeks after our conversation fizzled out. I get it, there’s nothing there, I really didn’t mean to call you, either way, you suck for having a name that begins with an A even if you have no control over it and even if I hated you less.

...You are shopping in a supermarket and stop with your cart right in front of where I need to be. Apparently you think you are the only person in the entire store shopping for food. Otherwise you would have the common decency to leave room for other people to get through. Why is it taking you 15 minutes to decide between the creamy or chunky peanut butter? We all know the chunky is far superior to the creamy, why is there even any thought involved here? From now on, I’m taking your cart and just pushing it as hard as I can down the aisle so you’ll move and I’ll hate.

...You see me drinking Whiskey and then proceed to ask if I like Duwer’s. I want to make this clear, Duwer’s is like battery acid, any Whiskey that has to advertise on the subway, isn’t exactly quality, it’s cheap and it’s swill. And also, please stop calling Johnny Walker simply black label or red label or blue label…I know you are just naming things you have heard of and don’t actually know what you’re talking about. I can do that too, but I don’t, I just hate you.

3 comments:

Mary said...

I hate you if you shop at used clothing stores (now "vintage" clothing stores thanks to you) and drive up the prices by making it as "trendy" as possible. NOW instead of paying the $5 I used to pay for a little 1940's house dress, they cost $500, you ass hat. Why don't you take your high 6 figure salary and shop at Sak's where you belong instead of just standing there looking like a debutante in a dust bowl dress being hated by me.

Doofi said...

you pay $50 for some T-shirt of 1983 mobile, AL 8-10 yr old little league champs that is 3 sizes to small that shows off your skeletor frame so that you can be so deck by having the most obscure t-shirt that no one else has. I've got myself one of these t-shirts now, it says I hate you, circa 1976.

elvira black said...

How about someone with a huge backpack who parks their cart in the supermarket and blocks access to the chunky peanut butter? Double your pleasure, double your hate.