Incomplete List of Annoyances (Part 6)

In which The Author goes bump in the night

Yet another reason to hate this fucking town (as if one were needed):
The local authority builds fucking obstacle courses full of booby traps and calls them ‘car parks.’ RCTCBC will be having a claim from me on Tuesday morning, for (at the very least) a new pair of tights and a new pair of gloves to replace the ones I ruined by going flying on the way to Wetherspoons last night.)


Here’s a handy note to street furniture architects: If you’re going to build a small and totally unnecessary one-course brick structure in the middle of a pedestrian walkway, at least have the common sense to paint the fucking thing white! Failing that, don’t use exactly the same materials as the surrounding area so that the step up is as good as invisible.
(q.v. The gradually-rising kerb leading to the new seating area outside B&M, and the pointless two-tier kerb by Barclays Bank, which are surely serious accidents just waiting to happen.)

Incomplete List of Annoyances (Part 5)

In which The Author minds his own business

I don’t know whether this particular Annoyance is unique to the South Wales Valleys, or whether it’s a more general phenomenon in society. Maybe I should try and do some research in pubs a bit further afield, in order to establish its prevalence.
Anyway, picture the scene:
You’re in the pub, reading, potching online, or just otherwise minding your own business. You’re aware that the people around you are having various conversations, but you’re not paying any attention.
Abruptly, without any warning and for no apparent reason, one of the discussions breaks off and one of the interlocutors will shout, ‘Isn’t that right, —?’ across the room at you.
Bear in mind that you’ve got absolutely no idea what they’ve been talking about. Even so, you’re expected to offer confirmation of whatever topic has been raised, totally regardless of whether you possess such expert knowledge – or even, whether you give a flying fuck about it.
I wonder if it’s worth adding this little quirk to the general rules of Wetiquette, in the hope that it’ll catch on in about fifty years or so. In the meantime, I’ll just have to put up with people asking me to contribute my two penn’orth to every pub conversation ranging on topics from the current news headlines to Smartphones.
Maybe I should try and develop a broader range of interests. Or maybe I should save up and get the phone line at home reconnected. Actually, why am I even having this internal discussion at all – what do you think, eh?