Here’s a cheerful one to start off the new decade in style. It’s time to let off some steam. (In case you hadn’t already guessed, I’m gradually becoming a grumpy old man.)
People who get onto the bus before they remember they’ll be expected to pay or produce their concessionary pass. The purse or wallet containing money or said pass will invariably be buried at the bottom of the bag or deep in the pocket, causing even further delays while the person hunts for it. This usually takes place in the pissing rain, leaving everyone else to get soaked while the offender is standing in the shelter of the vehicle itself.
Elderly or disabled people who try and get off the bus and/or train first (because they are privileged enough to be allowed to sit at the front), thus causing a huge delay to the able-bodied passengers who have to wait for them to disembark.
People who insist on walking very slowly in the exact centre of the pavement, then tutting loudly when the person behind asks them very politely to make their fucking minds up which side they actually want to be on. Similarly, women who insist on walking two or three abreast under the obvious illusion that their arses are so huge they need the whole width of the road to accommodate them. True, there are some women in Aberdare who fit that description – but not that many.
People who congregate in the doorways of pubs, shops, cafes, or university buildings while other people have to try and fight their way through them. I realise it’s partly the fault of the government for forcing smokers outside in the first place, but a fair percentage of them aren’t even smoking. It seems to be beyond their intelligence to stand a reasonable distance away, allowing a clear flow of traffic. Their excuse is usually, ‘It’s raining.’ Yes, it’s raining. It’s not a hurricane or a tsunami. As far as I’m aware, water on that modest scale does not usually kill people. If you don’t want to get wet regularly, move away from Wales. It’s that simple.
People who cannot replace library books in the same place as they found them. The numbers and letters on the labels are not there merely for decoration – there is an underlying pattern which should enable you to locate the book. If you can’t fathom it out, why the fuck are you in university in the first place?