The Peeves

By Amari D. Pollard

It’s been three weeks since the commencement of my summer vacation, and with all this free time I find myself doing a lot of self-reflecting. And during my time of reflection, I have realized something—people watch so much television and read so many books and spend so much time on the Internet because listening to their own thoughts is dangerous. It’s dangerous and it leads you down a dark path.

Or maybe that is just me.Maybe I’ve gotten too much sun and the rays are starting to get to my brain, or perhaps I’m prematurely becoming an old bitter woman, but either way, I find myself very angry lately. Not in the whole, “Uh, I want to punch that smiley baby in the face because I can’t stand to look at happy things” kind of way; that’s psychotic. I’m angry in the whole, “Uh, just you saying ‘hi’ is irritating me” kind of way.

So, for the rest of this time I will proceed to complain about the things that get under my skin, as most people call them—the peeves. I apologize if a lot of them have to do with driving. I drive a lot, and so many irritatingly stupid things occur on the road by so many irritatingly stupid people.

I’ve been told ranting about things that make you angry only makes you angrier. Just another dark path I choose to take.

5. Inconsiderate friends. I’m all for you telling me about your amazing new job, or your fantastic new haircut, or the wonderfully entertaining things you did today without me while I stayed home reading so I can become a well informed citizen of humanity unlike yourself. But, while you’re telling me about yourself, how about asking me about my day. I don’t even care if you don’t care about my day. It’s a common courtesy—just ask me! How you manage to make every single conversation we have, about yourself, is beyond me.

4. Driving slow in the fast lane. If there are people behind you, and you are not going 70 or above, your ass needs to move into the other lane. Why are you clogging up traffic? Does it take too much time and energy to put your foot on the gas and slightly steer the wheel into the next lane? I don’t think so.

3. Driving fast in the slow lane. This is the slow lane. The slowww lane. Why are you driving up my butt when I’m going 70 in the slowww lane? Where do you have to go that is so important? And if it’s so important, why don’t you switch lanes?

2. Telling me to chill. I’m not even hyped up. Why are you telling me to chill out? By telling me to chill out, you just made me mad, which will now make it that much harder for me to chill. What does chill out even mean? I’m pretty sure chilling something means putting it in the fridge or the freezer, and if I were to freeze myself, it would only make me anxious. I don’t get it. I don’t need to chill. You need to chill.

1. Calling me an Oreo or the whitest black girl ever. Being black is not a personality trait; it’s a color, a race. It does not define me. What does it even mean to act black? Because if you’re basing it off of the false stereotypical garbage that society is feeding you, than you’re ignorant as hell. Yes, I like to read books and write and watch documentaries and listen to Paramore and speak proper English. That does not make me white. I’m pretty sure Asians and Latinas and Africans and Middle Easterners and every other nonwhite race does the same exact thing. I’m just a person. Can’t I just be a person? I mean, I’m kind of a quirky person, but a person nonetheless.

If any of you out there feel equally as frustrated with the world as I do, feel free to comment and share your peeves! Can’t wait to see what ticks you off.

Picture courtesy of


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