“Peeves do not make very good pets” – Bo Bennett
I once had an About Me listing the 11 weirdest facts of me as a form of introduction. However, I don’t recall all 11 as clearly. I’ll try to give you 3 original pet peeves, but forgive me if I accidentally repeat myself 😉
#3 – List Your Top 3 Pet Peeves:
From 3 to 1 (because I can!), here’s my top 3:
3. Bad spelling/grammar
So okay, nobody is perfect. And writing in a language second to your native one is a challenge, always. But I recall once researching language schools when I received a letter of one full of spelling errors. It was an official Dutch institute, yet their letter was filled to the brim with the most common mistakes made. You’re a language institute, you should be on top of languages at all time! It took me all the courage I could muster NOT to correct every error and send the letter back (I am a Scorpio, I take things heavy and hold grudges. Love me or leave me alone).
I also do not get Dutch “street language”. I just don’t. Must be a generation thing, because it’s used in many songs teenagers listen to nowadays. Or when people abbreviate words without any reason. How am I suppose to enjoy what you write me if you can’t even find the time to write it in the first place?
2. Spitting on the ground (or retching in general)
More than your average pet peeve, I’d say in terms of dating this would be my number one turn off. I get beyond icky when someone in the street searches their toes for the biggest, worst possible phlegm he/she can muster, then drops the aforementioned ginormous lump of spit somewhere random.
China was hell for me.
Well, obviously it wasn’t (pandas! <3), but it took some time before I was able to walk the streets of Chengdu without nausea rising within me. If you want me to leave quicker than you can spell emetophobia, you drop your spit somewhere near me and watch me flee in horror.
There’s car salesmen and there’s empty liars. The first will cheat you out of money and into a broken vehicle. The second will spin make belief around you like cotton candy: sticky, overly sweet, and afterwards you’re left washing the sugar stains off your hands, face, clothes, hair, teeth, and everywhere else you didn’t think it would hit you.
Car salesmen are bad, but can be avoided once you see through them. Hot air salesmen (as I call them) will try to make you believe something non-existent. Like, how amazing they are, for instance. Or how many college degrees they have. Or how big their head is (which usually is true, actually, but not because it’s filled with the intelligence they claim to own). Hot air salesmen will sell you whatever story they think will make you see them as The Most Amazing Person On The Planet, yet in the end you’re left with nothing but hot air. Not even a broken car to cry over; empty hands more like.
Also, a hot air salesman, when caught with a lie, will only hit you with more lies so as not to lose face. They’ll never own up to their stories being fake, rolling from one lie into another, much like how a snowball turns into an avalanche. They embody my number one pet peeve.