Throughout the year, I've written about every little pet peeve of mine. I've expressed a deep hatred towards drivers using cell phones and emails being followed with the automatic line, "Sent from my iPhone" and I've written about people not saying thank you when walking past a person holding the door for them. I have so many pet peeves that it's an unhealthy way of going through life, but that's just who I am.
One of the problems of this blog is that I've become extremely aware of my own actions. I relate everything I do to what I've written and vice versa. The reason this is a problem is because before I started writing, if I held the door for someone that didn't thank me, I would be upset for less than sixty seconds and I would forget about the incident. Now that I'm looking for every minor thing to write about, I'm storing these trivial incidents in my memory and subconsciously living my life with these festering annoyances.
When I finally get around to posting my thoughts on whatever grievances I'm having, I tend to write in an I'm-Better-Than-Anyone-That-Does-This kind of way. In a way, while in the process of typing out my opinions I feel this way too. When I write about how irritating it is to pass a slow driver only to realize he/she is talking or texting on a cell phone, I am convinced that I've never been that driver. I was under the impression that I would and have never walked through a held door without a thank you; that is until tonight.
I had a multitude of things occupying my mind when I was trying to find another server tonight while at work. I walked right past another server holding the door for me and I didn't even realize what I was (or wasn't) doing until he leaned in and too politely said, "You're welcome."
Those stored memories of me holding doors for ignoring guests immediately flooded my head. I had just fallen victim to a pet peeve that I had written about as recently as two weeks ago. Apparently, I'm not as perfect as I thought I was. I felt terrible. I sincerely apologized to the server holding the door for me and tried to convince him that contrary to belief, what I had just done was one of my biggest gripes with the public.
He simply brushed the incident off, but it made me realize that I'm just as bad as all of these other people that I write about every night. I talk and text while driving and slow way down to do so. I've sent an email from my iPod only to realize later that it automatically included the pompous note of letting the recipient know that the message was composed on an iPod Touch. Now, I'm a hypocrite when it comes to showing an appreciation to the friendly gesture of holding a door!
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