Peeves.

I am currently watching Captain America while attempting to clean my disaster of a house. The other day I had an appointment to be, and when in the process of leaving, I had a mental breakdown because I couldn't find my keys. I looked everywhere. My dad eventually came over and they were in the fold of my recliner...where I had looked several times.


So I'm going to talk about peeves. And not just any peeves, but my peeves. This is my blog. I get to talk about whatever I want. I don't care about your peeves.


Unfortunately, I have several peeves under a wide variety of topics, most of which were formed through working at Walmart.


Little plastic hand cart for convenient use? Place it on my register belt and give me a look like I'm your slave and I better empty it for you. I overturn it. Gets quite a few dirty looks, but hey.


I'm sorry, ma'am, I wasn't aware that the belt monster that just ate your change was supposed to process your money into the register. I just always assumed if you wanted me to take care of it, you'd hand me your money, and not the hungry belt monster. Nor is that nifty place for signing checks or the center of the bag carousel going to handle it. 


Yes, I see the case of water, or drinks, or dog food etc underneath your buggy. Yes, I will ring them up. Pulling your buggy around behind my register to make me do it immediately will not only make me grumpy, but will make me adamant about ringing those items up last.


Don't get mad because my current customer is taking her time and you're in a hurry. You're in Walmart at 0300. I'm only one person. You've just ensured I will take my freakin' time. 


I am not a sir. Or a him. Or a he. So, don't get mad when I confuse your inability to see the massive growths on my chest as a game of "Opposite Day."


It goes on and on and on.


However, here recently I've come to find that one of my peeves that keeps hanging out close to the top five list is as follows: Texting. 


I understand people are busy. They sleep, they shower, they do whatever. I understand that I can't expect them to converse with me 24/7 via text. However, I was always under the impression that upon sending a text, once the receiver has an opportunity to reply, they will. I also understand that maybe my conversational attempts are fairly subpar. So I saw this guy in walmart today... <--That text usually isn't responded to. I don't ever say Hey or Sup. How ya doin? Because that's annoying. 


Okay, so maybe you were busy all day and now feel that the text took place in a time frame larger than what you would anticipate an appropriate response time should occur. 


The fun part about this particular pet peeve is the fact that my mind gets to twist all of the unanswered texts around over and over until it's processed in a completely inaccurate manner. So honest inconveniences are now "You're ignoring me." or "You really know how to make me feel small." 


Moral of the story: ANSWER YOUR FUCKING TEXTS. 

-DCV-