1. People who talk in the movies. In fact, most people at the movies - they talk, drum their fingers noisily on the plastic lids of empty drink containers, rattle ice cubes at inappropriate moments or otherwise create jarring sounds that distract me from the film and drag me out of that sometimes-transendent cinematic experience. Bastards!
2. Stupid idiots who stand in the doorways of trams, oblivious of the fact that A) there's lots of room further along the aisle, and B) that they're inconveniencing other people who are trying to get on and off. Fuckers!
3. Noisy packs of schoolgirls. Thank fuck I was never a heterosexual teenage male: I would have been totally intimidated and driven to beserk, school-bag swinging rage by the high-pitched squeals, the chattering, and the choking death-cloud of over-applied perfume, hairspray and other assorted products that emmanate from packs of schoolgirls on public transport. As it is I'm often forced to get off the tram and catch the next one, or walk several blocks while grinding my teeth and glaring at people from behind my sunglasses, due to the barrage of noise/scent etc. We hates them my precious!
I should at this stage point out that it's not just crowds of schoolgirls who force me to do react in this fashion: some days I just find the majority of the people on trams so bloody irritating that I'm compelled to flee screaming. Sometimes literally.
I met someone at a party once who said he first encountered me while I was running screaming down a street in the city, although I think in that instance I was fleeing from religious pamphleteers of one demoniation or another, not schoolgirls. I had chosen to cheerfully and manically over-react to their question about personality tests/free booklets/the Good News, in order to put the fear of God/Satan/Great Cthulhu into the god-botherers in question. I like freaking out the mundanes.
You must admit, it's an interesting way to make an impression on someone, the whole 'screaming as you run off down a busy city street' thing.
It must have worked, because the bloke in question sure as hell remembered me when we met at this unnamed party several months later, even though he was initially eyeing me off in a nervous fashion akin to a meercat that was being introduced to a hungry hyena. Once he decided I wasn't mad he gave me a ride home on his moped and we ended up stopping off in a park and having some rather excellent sex in the moonlight.
The moral of this story is: spectacularly over-reacting to things that irritate you help you get laid.
Try it sometime, and let me know if it works for you!
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