Name your top three pet peeves.

Picture this: you’re settling down to a meal, ready to savor every bite, when suddenly, your dining companion decides to channel their inner excavator. Yes, you’ve stumbled upon one of life’s great mysteries—the noisy eater. Their symphony of chomps and slurps could rival the most enthusiastic dog devouring a meal. Each bite seems like a percussion solo, complete with crashing cymbals and thunderous applause from their taste buds. You almost expect them to bark in delight at the end of each dish. It’s a culinary performance that makes you wonder if a round of applause or a bone-shaped trophy is in order.

Now, let’s take a delightful drive through the land of entitlement, where every road seems to have a self-proclaimed sovereign ruler. Yes, you guessed it—the bad drivers. They maneuver through traffic as if the highway were their own private driveway, complete with an invisible red carpet rolled out for their chariot. Turn signals are nothing but relics of ancient folklore, and the art of tailgating becomes their signature move. You half-expect them to knight you with their blinker wand, signaling your submission to their royal command. It’s a theatrical performance that leaves you wondering if they missed the memo stating, “Roads are meant for sharing, not monarchy.”

But wait, there’s more! Enter the conversational overlappers, those brave souls who dive headfirst into discussions armed with an answer for everything. They’re the undisputed champions of interruptions, swooping into conversations like verbal superheroes. Armed with an encyclopedia of opinions and facts, they cut through dialogues faster than a hot knife through butter. You’re left marveling at their prowess—though you’d prefer a conversational pause button nestled somewhere in their vocal cords.

So, here’s to the mealtime maestros, the road-owning monarchs, and the conversational crusaders—thanks again for your service of irritation and for me to practice self-control.

—Josh Mullins—