Pet Peeve Limbo

entertainment, Humor

Screen Shot 2016-04-10 at 8.44.09 PM

Everyone has something that irks them.  A sentence, a quirk, a habit that grates on their very last, frazzled nerve.  But I’m not talking about common pet peeves, like nails on a chalkboard or telemarketers.  Nay, I’m talking about our secret pet peeves, that are probably so crazy that we think we’re losing it every time they bother us.

These are the pet peeves that pierce down into the core of your soul, but are so specific to who you are as an individual that they may not be shared by anyone else on the face of this earth.  They are nurtured by environment and experience, and incensed by repetition.  You know what I’m talking about:  the pet peeves we don’t discuss over Mom’s meatloaf.

I realized I had secret pet peeves when I stopped at Starbucks this morning.  One of the greatest inventions of the past few months has been mobile ordering.  If you’ve never used your phone or tablet to place a web order, I’ll explain it quickly:

  1. You open the app of the place you would like to order from (Subway, Starbucks, Five Guys Burger, etc).
  2. You select your items.
  3. You press “SUBMIT” and your credit/gift card is debited.
  4. You arrive to said store 5-10 minutes later and your order is ready for you when you walk in.

This tool has saved me hours and hours of waiting in line, and I cannot esteem it highly enough. Picking up an order at Starbucks now literally takes 1 minute….unless, of course, you hear the dreaded:

“We’ll have your order ready in a second…just pull around up front.”

Ah ha…therein lies one of my secret pet peeves.  You know once you hear that death knell that your order is most assuredly NOT going to be ready in a second.  In fact, you’re going to be stuck in Fast Food Limbo for probably 5-10 minutes if you must encounter that phrase.  You’ve all been there:  all you’ve ordered is a small fry and a Diet Coke, and it’s as if you’re the last one to order a new rose gold iPhone SE.

All waiting for the Baja Chalupa to make a comeback, probably.

You know the familiar tension that inevitably comes from sitting in the parking lot.  You want your food and you want it NOW.  Fast food is no longer fast, all bets are off, and you’re a puddle of tears in your Nissan Sentra because dammit, you needed this order to go well, because now you have to go home, un-caffeinated, to your cat and unmitigated self-loathing.

EMMA New York, LLC
I think the worst Fast Food Limbo is found underneath the great Golden Arches:  McDonald’s. I once had to wait 10+ minutes for a wrap and a fountain drink.  I’ve had root canals that were quicker. I’ve had faster DMV visits. There are absolute standards, people.  I’ve got a gal at a Subway downtown who can whip together a sub, a drink and 2 cookies before I’ve even finished completing my web order.  I don’t think Subway accepts tips, but I’ve actually thought about tipping her (or maybe just an intense high-five).  She deserves a medal.

You go, girls.
You go, girls.

And my other secret pet peeve?  People who don’t check movie ratings before going to see the movie.  You all know the scenario.  You spy two parents with a five-year-old child on opening night of Deadpool.  I hear you all groaning before I even elaborate on the obvious. The movie starts, Mom looks uncomfortably at Dad, who is way more interested in his Buncha Crunch and Icee, and then the inevitable F-Bomb is dropped.

Five, ten minutes pass.  You see the parents scurrying in a flurry of coats and scarves, hands slamming over the child’s ears and eyes.  Scoffs and harrumphs abound, and they are gone in a trace of smoke, much akin to the Roadrunner’s speedy trail.

In this case, "Meep F#$%!@ Meep."
In this case, “Meep F#$%!@ Meep.”

The best part is the exchange you don’t get to see outside of the theater, but the one you inevitably hear about second hand from a friend of a friend of a friend. “You know, my neighbors brought their 5-year-old to see Deadpool, and they couldn’t believe how inappropriate it was.”  Really.  The R-Rating wasn’t a disco ball, strobe light, flashing neon sign of a warning? These are probably going to be the same people who order Ghost Pepper Chicken Wings and cry because they really didn’t think they would be that hot.

Not Casper the Friendly Ghost Pepper wings.
Not Casper the Friendly Ghost Pepper wings.

A few of my other secret pet peeves include:

  • #uneccessaryhashtagsthatareusedbecausethepersonwasntdonewiththeirfeelings
  • People who wonder where Leonardo DiCaprio was in Titanic: The Musical
  • People who make up parking spots where there are clearly marked lines

And, although this may seem like more of an annoyance than a pet peeve, I’ll offer one more irritation. Have you ever been so intent on ordering an Shamrock Shake at McDonald’s that your life depended on it?  Have you ever watched your hope die faster after you were told that “the shake maker is down?”  And, have you ever been informed that you could still order a smoothie if that would be a suitable substitute?


Step aside, nutrition.
Step aside, nutrition.

What are YOUR “secret” pet peeves? Leave your irritations in the comments below, and you may be featured on See, Here’s the Podcast this week!


  • Running in a race (longer distances like a half marathon +, so paces are generally slower than a 5k) and a group around you is talking incessantly about *all the races they won* or how *last year I ran this elite race, that elite race…this is such a step down for me….*

    And because it’s a long race (this was a particular 50k last year) you’re stuck hearing it for HOURS. Every time we caught up to someone, it was the same story repeated. OKAY, we get it! You’re awesome. Everyone knows. Next time wear a shirt with all your accomplishments and as you pass people they can read them!

          • Do you feel like saying, “I was distracted by the half-masticated cow rolling around in your wide-open trap…” when he eats chicken wings? (“Miss Congeniality”)

            Does McDonald’s know about this? Your dad could replace the mechanically separating chicken machine, teach others, bring billions of jobs to the USA…

  • People who modify their vehicles (usually it’s 10 year old Honda Civics for some reason) with a big fat outrageously loud tail pipe. Said vehicle is generally held together by duct tape and sits about 8 inches from the pavement.

      • I don’t get frenemies! Why bother faking friendship? Let’s just politely coexist! Don’t waste time and energy! Be real. I am NOT speaking to you, dear kqa1520, just to the world in general. Thank you for the opportunity to blast my pet peeve.

        • Haha, I got slightly worried that this was a passive aggressive way to tell me our friendship was over! I, too, HATE fake people. I also hate being “fake” nice to them. Blast away!

  • Try being short; like 4 ft . 11 inches. People pat you on the head and utter stupid things like “aren’t you just the cutest cupcake in the pan?” Everything is out of proportion . Furniture is scary. Like Lily Tomlin’s character in the big rocking chair. Once you’re settled in, just try to keep your legs together like a proper lady. And, the bottom kitchen cabinets are so deep to reach into, your squats go into ass splats as you try so hard to be the “grown up” you know you are. Forget the top cabinets. But the real biggie in pet peeves of being short has to be driving a car. After many years stretching for the gas pedal, my middle toe is twice as long as any other and getting a shoe to fit is like getting a size &%^& penis into skinny jeans. Actually, being little makes you feel like you are a pet to those who look down upon the top of your head. The permanent crink in my neck from looking up at the giants in this world gives me the look of a “no neck” tackle on the Browns loosing line. Yes, my pet peeve may sound “petty”…… but it’s a really big deal!

Comments are closed.