People Who Annoy Me -- Part 1

Sooner or later it was coming. Anybody who knows me at all has heard me complain at length about one group of people or another. It's a big list. So we'll call this Part 1 of an occasional feature.

Without further ado...

1. People who spit

Seriously? Aside from the occasional respiratory ailment, I can't think of a single time in my life when I've sat around thinking,

"You know? I think I'm in the mood to spit."

I'm not talking about people who use chewing tobacco or its variants. I don't understand why people use chewing tobacco, but that's not the focus for this post. And I'm not talking about people who do it as an insult. I get that, even though it seems a little too dramatic and cliched. I'm talking about people without anything else in their mouths who have nothing better to do at the moment than spit.

You know what the pavement beneath my feet needs RIGHT NOW? Spit.

I don't want to hear about overproduction of saliva. I don't really care what you say, what stories you've heard, what some underqualified TV doctor says, nothing -- this is not a thing now. Ok? I'm a pretty charitable person when it comes to people's medical concerns. Peanut allergies, gluten intolerance, soy sensitivity, lactose intolerance. I feel for you. But overproduction of saliva is NOT a thing. It's called being hungry or anticipating a meal. End of story. Our mouths are one of the dirtiest places on our body, so when you spit, you're just spreading disease. Stop being disgusting. Stop leaving little puddles of your germ-infested fluids all over the sidewalk.

2. People who talk on the phone in the bathroom

Let me give you a situation. You have a dinner party. You've had a wonderful meal, and you've moved the conversation into the living room. You and a few friends are sitting on couches catching up on the last few weeks, telling jokes -- you get the gist. All the water you drank during dinner starts to do its work, and you begin to hear nature's call. It's only natural at this point to say, "Hey, John, listen. I gotta go to the bathroom. Why don't you come with me and talk to me while I take out my penis and urinate. This conversation is too good to put on hold for even a second."

Nope. In almost 37 years of life, I've never proposed or had this proposed to me.

Even so, a few times a week, I'm in the bathroom in a store or a restaurant or at work and hear guys talking on the phone while they pee or while they sit on the toilet. You wouldn't ask someone to watch you do that, so why do you take someone in with you on the phone? Why don't you make a decision? Which is more important to you right now: finishing your phone conversation or emptying your bowels? If your bathroom situation is so urgent, is it so difficult to say, "Hey, listen, can I call you back in a few minutes? I'm not in a good place to talk right now." And I can't say I've ever heard an interesting phone conversation in the 
bathroom.

This place? Not your office.

"Ok, Jim, let's go ahead and put together an action plan on that one."

"Shut up! Are you serious? He said what?"

"I dunno. I'm thinking about seeing that new Superman movie this weekend."

These conversations can wait.

Oh, and one more thing. It's extremely difficult to wash properly while holding a phone to your ear. Soap, warm water, 15 seconds of handwashing. Otherwise you shouldn't even bother. It's rare enough to see a man do more than splash water on his hands (I call the average male handwashing maneuver "The Wicked Witch of the West" -- wouldn't want to melt from too much contact with water), and I NEVER see a dude on the phone wash his hands. Hey, your boyfriend just wiped his ass with one hand and held the phone to talk to you with the other. And he still has particles of crap on his hand. Remember that when he helps you cook dinner.

3. People who order at the drive through, when they should've gone inside

I think every drive through interaction should focus on convenience. A good drive through order is simple, to the point, difficult to screw up. Because you're going to give your order to some person making $7.25 an hour to do a job they hate. You may think they should do their best regardless of the job, regardless of the pay. Funny thing, though, your expectations don’t translate to their actions. Go ahead, set your expectations. Get too loud about it, though, and you're likely to get their expectorations.

You want a number 3 combo, but with extra pickles, no tomatoes, hold the mayo, oh, and add cheese on the side and some ranch sauce, and on your second order you want a number 4 combo, no pickles, extra tomato, extra mayo, and no ice in your drink -- half regular, half diet, of course. And on a third separate order you want...

You get the point. You know what you're not getting? What you want.

And that guy in the car behind you, the one with 30 minutes for lunch, just trying to grab a quick hamburger? Yeah, he gets to listen to you go back and forth over the tin can speaker at the menu board, gets to wait while you fish through all your bags and argue with the poor sap at the window who's going to spit on your replacement order, gets to inhale his burger before heading back to work.

You didn't get what you want -- an inconvenient situation for you, but one you should have anticipated. The guy behind you is late to work. To be fair, his schedule isn't your responsibility, but I'm just illustrating the chain of events. The manager of the restaurant probably gets to hear you complain about the service at the drive through, something he can’t really fix. The people who would give good service at a drive through don't work at drive throughs. They make more money doing something else, and if you pay fast food workers more money, your extra value menu becomes decidedly more expensive.

Do everyone a favor. If you have a tenuous grasp of English, if you have complicated special requests, if you plan on spending more than, say, $30 -- just go inside.

________

Since I've spent roughly a thousand words belittling the very people who may now be reading this blog, now is probably the wrong time to express this, but please -- don't get me wrong.

I have friends and/or family who do all of these things, and I don't love them any less. As it turns out, I'm good at separating people's good behavior from their bad behavior. At the risk of sounding incorrigibly rude, if you and I speak on a semi-regular basis, then even if you do the stuff I've listed or the things that will come up in future installments, I obviously think your good qualities outweigh your bad. I'd say I don't want to know the terrible things people think about me, but maybe I need to hear some of them (though this isn't necessarily an invitation). I think recognizing and changing the bad stuff makes us better people tomorrow than we are today.

So, buck up! I might hate most of the things people do, but I still like a few people. Just don't call me from the bathroom.

In future installments:

--People who get "offended"
--People who never left high school
--People who can recite the complete lineups of every NFL team or sing the lyrics to dozens of songs they love or keep track of all the characters and plot lines on their favorite TV show, but can't sort out the difference between "your" and "you're"
--Religious people who won’t take “no” for an answer
--Anime/JRPG Fans (closely related to the religious people listed above)
--Sports fans who keep talking to me about sports even though they already know I don't follow sports
--Geeks who criticize every movie, game, or book they encounter
--People who make lists of stuff that annoys them

Do I Know You?

I feel conflicted about people. On one hand, I have a terrific circle of family and friends. We support each other and help keep each other (relatively) sane, and I don't know what I'd do without them. On the other hand, the thought of speaking to people I don't already know fills me with dread, fear, and disgust.

I try to get to work about 20 minutes early. Just in case I get stuck behind an accident or hit the traffic lights in the wrong rhythm, I like to have a time buffer to make sure I'm not late. With my few extra minutes, I'll generally sit in the car and read a book.

On a recent day, I sat reading my book and got a tap on the window from a total stranger. First, I nearly soiled myself. I mean would it have killed the guy to stand in front of the car first and maybe wave to get my attention? Do I need to keep underwear in the glove compartment now, in case of random window knockers? Second, do I look like I'm asking for a conversation? My windows are up. I'm focused on a book. The book should be a clue, but I've learned over the years that people think reading is a last resort. They assume if you're reading, it must be because you can't find someone to talk to, so it should be okay to interrupt you for a conversation about nothing at all.

"Hey, can you tell me where Suite 400 is?"

"Sorry, man, I don't know. I just work in this building behind me in the sales department. I don't really know all the addresses around here."

"But I'm looking for Suite 400. Do you know where Suite 400 is? I'm driving a truck."

"No, I -- I really don't. I just work in this building. I don't know the addresses of the other buildings around here. I'm sorry."

"I'm looking for Suite 400, though. Do you know where Suite 400 is?"

"Look, dude, I can't help you. I don't know where you're going, and I don't know the addresses arou--"

"Fine," he said, as he stuck his hand, palm out, in my face. "Whatever. Have a good day, SIR. Thanks for nothing."

Wait, why am I the asshole?

I didn't walk up and start banging on some random stranger's window. I didn't assume he knows all the addresses and business names of the buildings in the area. I didn't ask him the same question over and over, even after he told me he didn't know the answer. I didn't interrupt him, stick my hand in his face, and treat him like he'd just ruined my day. I was polite. I used an apologetic tone to answer his question and told him I didn't know the answer. As far as I understand it, I followed social protocol, but I'm the jerk.

And this is why people suck. Even when you follow social protocols and pretend to care about whatever crap they're talking about, they act like you owe them something. I mean, am I supposed to get out of the car and walk around with you, helping you search for a building? You're getting paid to find the building -- all I'm doing is missing out on my book. If I'd known where the guy was trying to go, I would have told him. But I'm not going to tell him to hop in the car and drive around with me until we find his place. I may be antisocial, but I don't make people's lives harder just for the fun of it. Well, not unless they deserve it.

Even when people are polite, I don't like talking for the sake of talking. Walking down the hall at work, I see people who work in other departments all the time. I don't know their names; I don't know anything about how they spend their days. I'd rather just look the other way, but instead there's this social pressure to nod and say hi, or even worse, converse about their weekend or whatever the relevant small talk for the day might be. I hate those interactions.

Look, I don't know you, and you don't know me, and we've lived our entire lives pretty content with this state of affairs. So why don't we just stick with the status quo? I've overheard your conversations with other people. You talk about sports and cars and fishing. I hate sports and cars and haven't fished since I was 10, so unless you read Neil Gaiman or J.R.R. Tolkien, or unless you play World of Warcraft or watch Star Trek, I don't think you and I are going to have enough in common to maintain any kind of friendship. Why don't we skip the nod and the smile? Why don't we skip the hello and the small talk? Why don't we just go about our business as though we don't know each other? I've got things I like to think about and work on in my head. When I have to stop and waste time with people I don't know, I lose track of those things. So keep your distance from me.

I've learned over the last few years how little time we get on this planet. I, my friends, and my family are all reaching a point where we really don't know on January 1st each year who won't be with us when the day rolls around again. There's so much I want to do. I want to learn blacksmithy. I want to read all the books on my growing reading list. I want to learn to brew alcohol and distill liquor. I want to watch my kids grow up to become (hopefully) happy, well-adjusted adults. I want to eat better and get back in shape. I want to spend time laughing and drinking singing bad karaoke with the people closest to me. I have so little time.

I need to learn rudeness. Instead of sneering and saying, "Do I know you? No? Go away," I tend to try and help the guy who needs directions or pretend to care about someone's fishing trip or find something nice to say about whatever sports team someone likes. Like I said a couple weeks ago, I'm a liar. I'll even pretend to like you.

[spoiler alert]

Not really. Well, possible spoiler about the name of one character in one recent movie. Other than that, I won't spoil anything today. 

Hopefully.

Fair warning though, if a single character name from the new Star Trek movie is too "spoilery" for you, save reading this post until after you see the movie, since you won't get through the post without finding out.

A Facebook exchange took place after Jessika and I saw Star Trek Into Darkness, and it got me thinking. Jessika mentioned on her wall that Benedict Cumberbatch had done a great job as Khan and sparked a discussion among her friends about how much they've liked him in other roles. The following day, though, she got a comment from a friend who seemed to consider the name "Khan" a spoiler.

Two things.

1) It isn't.

2) Ok, maybe it is, but the concept of spoilers is whiny and narcissistic, so I don't care.

Yeah, you know what he's saying...

First, I should be clear. I'm not actually directing this post at any specific person. Though a single discussion sparked my thought process, I've been bothered by pedantic spoiler freaks for years. Despite the stacks of DVDs on shelves in their living rooms, movies they've seen multiple times, certain people will tell you that a movie is ruined by knowing the ending. I don't buy the logic, nor do I believe there's a perfect first experience for every movie that's somehow superior to all the repeated viewings -- you know, the viewings where you start to pick up on all the things you didn't notice the first time you saw it.

So I'm going to try (and fail) to be reasonable. I understand there was some secrecy on and around the set about the identity of Cumberbatch's character. J.J. Abrams even made an appeal via some outlets for reviewers not to spoil any surprises, but based on the previews and the names of other characters that were not secret, any rational individual should have seen it coming. The same articles I read, speculating about Cumberbatch's character, also revealed that Alice Eve would play Carol Marcus. One of the officially released previews gave a glimpse of a hand pressed against a pane of glass in a Vulcan salute. Do we have to spell it all out in excruciating detail? Anyone who has any knowledge of Khan, any suspicion he might be in the movie, would have to be brain dead to be surprised at this point. Abrams may have used words to ask for secrecy, but his approach to casting and marketing the movie was the equivalent of shouting to the poker table that he had pocket aces and was going all in.

If the character had been a nobody, another Nero or Sybok or Ru'afo or Soran, nobody would have requested secrecy. The act of working in secrecy means there is something bigger happening than the usual. So now we're left with a villain with a generic name, characters and situations closely related to Khan, and a request for secrecy. Do the math and stop complaining. Any possible surprise was spoiled by the very revelation that there might be a surprise.

That's my opinion, though, worked out all inside my own little head, and I realize the spoiler freaks will disagree. 

Which brings me to point number two, and this is extremely important to the discussion -- I don't care. The more you whine about spoilers, the more I want to spoil it just to piss you off. I already went to the movie and enjoyed it. I don't give a crap if you see it or enjoy it or are even aware of its existence. That's your deal. Don't bring me into it.

Don't get me wrong. I don't make special efforts to spoil movies or TV shows for people. I'm not the kind of guy to walk out of the first ever screening of The Sixth Sense, look at the line of people getting ready to walk in and say, "Bruce Willis is dead all along!" I'm not the kind of guy to walk into the midnight release for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and say, "Dumbledore dies at the end!" I don't shout plot points to the world just to spite the people who haven't caught up to my reading or movie-watching.

But I'm also not going to waste my time parsing every possible definition of the word "spoiler", just to avoid offending somebody's delicate sensibilities. 

Maybe you want to enter every movie experience in a state of complete ignorance. Good for you. You should do what makes you happy, as long as you don't narcissistically stand back and tell me how I'm supposed to behave to help you make those things happen, because I'm unlikely to help you. I have no interest in pussyfooting around your idiosyncrasies. Your enjoyment is up to you, and it's your job to make it a reality. 

So I'm not going to propose any middle ground. There's no statute of limitations like a week or a month or six months. I won't go out of my way to discuss the entire plot of a movie, but I will say what comes to mind, regardless of your emotional baggage. If that bothers you, you either need to re-evaluate your relationship with me, or you need to seek professional help. Those are your decisions, though, not mine. If your involvement with me in social media makes your goals harder to reach, stop bitching like a child, and mute my feed or unfriend me or unfollow me. Unless you enjoy bitching like a child, in which case, I'll give you fair warning -- I've probably already muted your feed. I don't publicize my decisions to ignore people. I just ignore them. There are fun debates and conversations to be had on any number of topics, but listening to people who whine but who never take action gives me no pleasure.

Stop putting your happiness in my hands, because I promise you, the more you piss and moan, the more I want to take advantage of my power and make you sad.

So [spoiler alert] don't get too attached to any characters created by George R.R. Martin. Keep whining, though, and I'll start spilling names.

Good Mike / Bad Mike

I'm a bit of a liar.

I sometimes recall a moment, at 7 or 8 years old, when I put a piece of tape on the wall, wondering if it would really be invisible. Some time later, one of my parents (I don't even remember which one anymore) came along and asked if I had put tape on the wall. I said no. 

I'm a parent now, so I can picture the scene in my head. Parent walks down a hallway and sees a piece of tape in the middle of the wall. Three feet away sits young son, looking in another direction, hiding a roll of tape.

"Did you put this tape on the wall?"

"No."

"Did you put this tape on the wall?"

"No."

"Are you sure you didn't put this tape on the wall? You're not in trouble. I just want to know."

Hmm. This seems like a trick. I thought I would be in trouble for putting the tape on the wall, so I lied about it. Now if I admit putting the tape on the wall, I have to admit I lied about it. Then I WILL be in trouble for lying. Better stick to the plan.

"I didn't do it."

"Ok, you wouldn't be in trouble for putting tape on the wall, but you're about to be in trouble for lying to me,

I knew it was a trick!

so I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me the truth."

As a parent, I'm still not sure what comes next. On the one hand, if young son finally comes clean and admits doing the deed, he's finally owned up and told the truth. But he's also admitting to lying about it when you first asked him. I'm thinking the least trouble would be admitting it in the first place, followed by owning up to the truth after lying about it, then finally, continuing to lie, even after being called out for lying. But how do you differentiate the punishments? You have to punish him for lying, but do you punish him less for admitting he lied? If you do, will he start lying about things, then admitting it at the last second, knowing it'll lead to a reduction in punishment?

All I had to say was, 

"Yes, the package says 'invisible', and I was wondering if it would really be invisible." 

Without trying to ennoble my actions too much, I was engaging in skepticism, in science, testing claims. I don't know how my parents might have reacted, but I know how I'd react now. I'd be glad my kid didn't believe everything people told him. Invisible tape is minor, but everyone has to come to terms with misleading advertising sooner or later, and the process has to start somewhere. Once you discover they've been pulling the wool over your eyes about invisible tape, you might be less likely to believe wearing a magnetic bracelet will improve your health or that the Easy Bake oven will be easy or allow you to bake.

I never learned not to lie -- I just learned to be ashamed of myself when I did. And that's not my parents' fault. They disciplined me when I lied. Common sense (I have more to say about the concept of common sense some other time) would dictate if you punish a child for lying, sooner or later, to avoid punishment, they'll stop lying. But I didn't. I just tried harder to tell better, more bulletproof lies. Ultimately, I just started hiding the things about me that I didn’t want to have to lie about.

I don’t know about other people, but I feel like I have two people inside my head. I have Good Mike. He’s positive, cares about justice and decency, loves his family, and wants to find the good in everything. Good Mike really exists, and he’s the guy who usually writes this blog. He’s the angel on my shoulder who shows up to remind me about the things I’ve learned from all my past experiences. 

But there’s also Bad Mike. He’s bitter, angry, cynical, pessimistic, and doesn’t listen to reason. He’s the misanthrope on my shoulder who tells people the world needs an asteroid to wipe out the human race. He makes fun of everyone’s music. He rages at drivers who don’t understand the function of turn signals. Bad Mike really exists, too, and I can't reconcile Good Mike with Bad Mike.

Because I know myself and my tendencies, I've pushed myself while writing my posts never to say anything untrue. But while my posts have been honest, they don't represent all of my conflicted and strange split personality. I've committed a sin of omission, so to speak, in bottling up Bad Mike. I set out to write every day, to try to connect with people, to learn from my audience and, though it feels a little narcissistic to say so, I was hoping to teach my audience something about themselves and about me. I don't write every day, though. I only write when Good Mike has something to say.

Bad Mike needs to breathe. As it turns out, I think my conflicting sides inform one another. The good little voice in my head only exists in counterpoint to the rude little voice in my head. 

So over the next few weeks, this blog is going to change in format. Bad Mike has some things to say, and this blog, accordingly will change names and formats. 

Bad Mike isn’t always nice, and he's frequently illogical and unreasonable, but I’ll try to make him entertaining. Bear with him, though. I didn't know Good Mike was funny until people told me, so I definitely don't know how interesting Bad Mike is going to be. I'm hoping that when Bad Mike and Good Mike speak to each other, I get closer to my own truths and my own feelings. Time will tell.

There's scotch tape on the wall, and I put it there, dammit.

Get ready for Good Mike / Bad Mike.