My pet hate
I found this post hidden away in my “Draft” section. “My pet hate”. No idea why it wasn’t posted at the time, but it dates back to 11th Jan 2012 and I thought I’d post it today rather than hide it away or delete it.
My pet hate list can be quite big, but I think I have found a new one. (A quick stop here for the old joke. Two blokes chatting. One says: “What’s your pet hate?”, the other replies: “My pet hate? Well, he really hates it when I grab him by the balls.” Ha!)
Anyway, my new pet hate. Couples that have one person queue up behind you in a coffee shop while the other person goes and nicks the empty seat that you sit in every day. Grrr. In the rules that I have in my head, you shouldn’t be allowed to get your seats until you’ve been served, that way, when I identify MY seat that I’m grabbing when I enter the store, chances are that it’ll still be there when I have my coffee.
As it is, I am now sat across the room, glaring at the old girl who has sat her arse down in the section of the shop that I can get a WiFi connection, sending unpleasant thoughts through the air, hoping that instead of a caramel latte she’s been given a triple-fig latte with additional laxative.
Naturally these rules change if I happen to be with someone else in a coffee shop, in which case it is quite acceptable for one of us to grab the empty seats and wait for the other to bring the coffee over. (I never said my world would be fair!).
In the middle of these two scenarios is the one where I enter a coffee shop with the four kids, which always, without fail, results in my shouting across Starbucks “GRAB THOSE SEATS THERE! THOSE ONES!” while pointing to the cluster of five or six empty seats that my seven-year-old is simultaneously standing next to yet completely oblivious to.
This is then swiftly followed by various barked instructions on how they should sit still, how they need to ensure at least one of them stays at the table otherwise we’ll lose our seats and how that they have no real justification for the opening of 17 straws, and that the laws of physics dictate that, unlike in Tom & Jerry, putting so many straws together doesn’t make a really long straw of any practical use.
Of course, this little rant could all be because I haven’t had my coffee yet, and the caffeine withdrawal is taking control of my senses. But I think not. Come the revolution, first against the wall will be seat-nickers.
Second, if you’re interested, would be the gits that pull over when driving and then indicate. Wrong order, tosser, but it’s ok, my crappy old Peugeot has built-in twat-detector so I managed to avoid crashing into you.
Damn, my coffee is getting cold.