I suppose nothing ruffles my feathers as frequently as bad manners - or no manners.
And in the hierarchy of offending gestures, there is nothing more obnoxious to me than being interrupted in my own home by people purporting to save my soul. (A tip for the uninitiated: I'd rather be in whatever kind of hell your religion espouses than get saved, if I have to do it with you.)
This evening, I was expecting a friend to drop by, hence I actually answered the door during dinner.
Complete stranger, standing by another complete stranger, bundled up like they are walking door to door to spew cultish crap: "We'd like to talk to you for a couple of minutes."
Note: if you are not invited, or flashing a badge, this tactic will fail in the House of RK.
Me: "We're eating dinner." Closes door.
That is pretty good restraint, no?
Then I realized what I was wearing.
Other things that are annoying me this week include the fact that I have to work with mustache man on our upcoming lobby day again. I'm sure he remembers me, because I all but flustered the Yosemite Sam mustaches off of his annoying little face two years ago.
And then there is Vasil, who has recently discovered how to meow up the stairs. Yes, you read that right. He has mastered the power of the echo - at midnight, and at 5 a.m. However, he is so unbearably fucking cute that I literally can't throttle him.
You'd never know he could be such a little asshole, would you?
Lastly, the lady - scratch that, the female - who blew through a stop sign and nearly bought me a new car, or a new me. Luckily for both of us, I have really good brakes, and so does the person who was behind me. I really and truly hope that when I laid on the horn like nobody's business you shit your pants.