I’ve been tagged by A to Z Mummy to write a post about what I’d put into Room 101. I’d love to know what you think of the things that make my blood boil.
1. Being late. This applies to me and others. I am incredibly punctual and can’t abide lateness from others. If we’re meeting at 10am it’s 10am and not five past. I always set off early to arrive in good time for things, but if traffic is bad or something happens which makes me run late, then I get into a panic. Punctuality is a big deal for me.
2. Public toilets. I think the origins of this come from the truly dreadful toilets at school, but to this day I hate public toilets. I hate the anticipation of a dirty, unflushed toilet; the inevitable lack of toilet paper and locks that don’t work. These days it is thankfully rare that you find a truly awful toilet, but they’re still out there, lurking, ready to tarnish a good night out or a trip to the shops. People, please do try and flush and not poo on the seat. It’s basic manners.
3. Bad tippers. Now I am frugal, there isn’t much disposable income floating about these days, so I understand people’s reluctance to spend a fortune on a nice meal. However if the service has been genuinely good, the waiting staff excellent and affable, then it’s not too much to ask to slip someone on a basic wage 10% of the bill (minimum). I often dine out with people who think leaving a £2 tip for a £50 meal is acceptable. It isn’t. It really isn’t.
4. Broken Promises. This is a funny one for me. I hate people who promise things and don’t deliver. The boss who promised to nurture my career and didn’t. The friend who was painting me a picture and didn’t give it me. The husband who promised me Paris but gave me Penrith. I don’t expect the world, but in my book if you promise something then your word is gospel and you should deliver on it. I think my bugbear is unmet expectations. If you can’t or won’t deliver then don’t promise me things.
5. Dawdlers. I admit I can be impatient and at times intolerant, but one thing I cannot stand is dawdlers. People who stop in the middle of the street for no real reason, people who aimlessly saunter, people who stand in the middle of a supermarket aisle reading a tin of baked beans. Step to the side woman or let my trolley feel your ankles. I am rarely allowed to visit supermarkets because my rage towards ambling members of the public knows no bounds. I seldom go to a shopping centre for the same reasons. If you know yourself to be a dawdler, a sudden stopper, or a reader of food labels, fine, embrace your annoying life but please, please for the love of all that is holy, step to one side.