It’s too easy to take stock of everything we’re thankful for at this time of year. Friends, family, the gorgeous city we call home; it’s something on which most of us can agree.
So this year I’m doing the complete opposite. In fact, the older I get, the more the list of things that irritate me grows. Just because I’m married to someone I’ve nicknamed Grumpy, doesn’t mean I’m always happy.
One of my favorite summer activities is to wander around downtown Naperville, where I live, in the evening while eating ice cream. If you look closely, you’ll notice that 90% of the other people down there are doing the same. It almost makes you wonder if this is a new law. Anyone without a sweet treat in their hands will be accosted and forced to stand in the line outside Jeni’s for an hour. This isn’t what I’m actually complaining about, by the way. If Naperville wants to become the ice cream capital of the world, who am I to stop her?
What really annoys me is that during my otherwise peaceful strolls I’m often disturbed by the roaring of cars up and down Main Street or Jefferson Avenue. While I don’t mind the fact they often have brightly colored lights underneath them or drivers young enough to be my grandchildren, what I do object to is the noise they make. It’s not just the sound of the revving engines, it’s an ear-crashing roar that can almost make you drop your ice cream in alarm. Isn’t there a law about this? If not, there should be.
My next complaint is about restaurants. I do understand that when I’m in my native England I expect a meal to take a minimum of three hours, especially if there are more than two of us in my party. What annoys me here is being rushed — especially when it comes to dessert.
When I’m three bites into my entrée, I don’t want to think about dessert. So when my server asks me if I’ve saved room for it, the answer, at least in my head, will always be “How on earth should I know? I’m still eating the previous course.” Also, just because Grumpy eats at the speed of a young driver zooming down Main Street doesn’t mean I should be expected to gulp down my meal just so the staff can clear the table.
Another thing that I don’t like is the time the mail arrives. While I appreciate 99.9% of it is junk, I can’t get it out of my system that mail should arrive first thing in the morning. This goes back to the 50 years I spent in England. Not only would the mail, or post as we call it there, arrive while you were having breakfast, it came through a slot in your front door. That meant your bleary morning routine was picking it up while you were still in your robe and reading it over a nice cup of tea.
I was so excited to have a real American mailbox when I moved here, although a little disappointed when I learned the little flag meant you had mail to be collected, not that the day’s delivery had arrived. Wouldn’t that be a good idea? That way you wouldn’t have to trek back and forth three times before finding something inside.
The only way around this issue that I can think of is to leave the mail until the following morning so I can get it at the time I want, but supposing I missed out on a unique offer for double glazing or something important for the previous owner who apparently never gave a forwarding address to anyone.
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I have a thing about lateness. As someone who always with the announcement, “I’m a few minutes early,” I hate it when people are late for appointments. What you’re telling me is that our meeting really isn’t that important to you and you have far better things to do with your day, like picking up a cup of coffee before we get together. The solution isn’t rocket science. Just leave earlier.
In a similar vein, I have a thing about email too. I know it’s wrong, but if I email someone, I expect a response within 20 minutes. Unlike some of my other gripes, I know this is ridiculous. It stems from the fact that the thing I’m emailing you about is of premier importance to me in that moment. Obviously, it may not be important to the recipient, but as someone who often has more time on her hands than she knows what to do with, I get much more irritated by this than I should.
Of course, there’s one kind of email that is nearly always waiting for me —those in my spam box. When I have a quiet moment, usually waiting for an important email response to come in, I admit it can be fun to read it. But the ones that really annoy me are those from so-called marketing experts telling me they can improve my website.
Apparently, they’ve all looked at it and it could do with some help. If I actually had a website, I’m sure that would be much appreciated, but I don’t, nor do I want one, so leave me alone. Also, if you’re trying to sell me your services, it might be a good start to check your grammar and spelling before sending.
To be honest, there are more things I am grateful for than not. One of them is being to air my grievances in public, because now I’ve done it, I feel much better. To anyone else who is like me is bugged by the mundane, I’m happy to hear your pet peeves if you think it might help. Just make sure you get back to me as soon as you’ve read this column, and don’t forget to check your spelling.
Hilary Decent is a freelance journalist who moved to Naperville from England in 2007.