• The cab driver who idled and honked, idled and honked, idled and honk-honk-honked for a good ten minutes outside our house at 5:20am this morning, annoucing his presence to a passenger who was clearly already enjoying a blissful existence in heaven, since had they been merely recently dead the honking would undoubtedly have raised them. Ross leaned out of the window to ask the guy to stop, and when he continued to beep I actually got out of bed to go downstairs and beg him to call his passenger on the phone or ring their doorbell or something, just to please stop with the honking. He stared at me blankly out of his still rolled-up window (He’d refused to wind it down. I interpreted this as a sign of fear, as I cut a pretty intimidating figure in my baby-blue Grumpy Bear t-shirt and pajama pants) and apologized half-heartedly, as if he couldn’t imagine what on earth I was so annoyed about, hadn’t he stopped after the 32nd honk?
• The woman standing just inside the doorway of the train who, when the doors opened at Park Street, turned around to push her way further in so that she would not have to step out and make way for the crowd of morning commuters who needed to get past her in order to exit at this major connecting station. “Excuse me,” she murmured, as if this small politeness made up for her absurd selfishness. I ignored her, but I would have much preferred to have sent her into exile.
• One of my colleagues at work, who is part of the same team I am on but who never smiles or responds to my greeting when we walk past each other, despite the fact that I always say hello cheerfully to her. I suspect she doesn’t like me, because she’s not otherwise a rude person — but come on. What is happening to the social niceties that we so desperately need to tie our communities together with a web of lies? I have decided to beam even more merrily at her from now on, so that her lack of enthusiasm will become painfully obvious. Again, exile would be a neater solution.
• Drivers who don’t stop at the stop line.

What, you think these are minor offences? Minor offences are the ones that thrill my soul the most with disgust. I might be persuaded to forgive murder, arson, grand theft auto, but in the face of an inconsiderate human being, I am stone cold. Stone, I tell you.

(Surprisingly enough, I was in a good mood all day today. Probably because I was able to imagine all my wandering inconsiderates honking and bumping and frowning at each other in the desert before being run over by a car that doesn’t stop at the line.)