today: 3.27.00
every day

I've recently noticed that living in New York (and, like all seasoned sociopaths, i choose to fault my enviornment) has saddled me with a new set of completely irrational pet peeves. Things I never even considered when I lived in other cities -- public transportation, tourists, uptown -- became rich, boundless resources of personal disagreement within months of relocating to New York.

One could easily argue that all pet peeves are, by nature, completely irrational but one must ride the subway or pay six dollars for a Budweiser before positing that theory. In fact, I would say that initially my pet peeves were based on rules of common decency I felt had been transgressed. I think my first pet peeve since moving here was Pole Huggers - people on crowded subways who insist on leaning their backs against the median grip poles that are intended to provide hand support and balance for 3-5 passengers at one. A Pole Hugger makes this impossible, claiming the pole for his own devices.

My disdain for Pole Huggers devolved into anger directed at anyone who brushed against my hand while I was holding the median pole. Then I started hating people boarding the train who didn't allow other passengers to exit first. Followed shortly by people who don't understand implicitly that the left lane on escalators is for passing only. And people who cough in public. And then the elderly, just overall. And then it got weird.

A week ago I decided I hate people who wave to others by moving all of their fingers in a fan-like motion - a Finger Roll. Just like that; I hate them. Those pathetic little sausages, dancing loosely in the wind, completely unsyncopted. Pure weakness of character. I've decided it is mystery how Finger Rollers can possibly live with themselves.

And for a long time I had no idea how this came to pass. Then, after getting into a pointlessly heated discussion on this subject with a friend (pointlessly heated because I was unquestionably right - not pointlessly heated because I am a college educated adult whose fancy book learning should have at least served him in the small talk department) I remembered the genesis of my newest pet peeve. In fact, within the roots of this particular pet peeve all other pet peeve back-stories become alarmingly clear to me.

A week ago (exactly 30 seconds before this pet peeve was born) I was in an office, sitting behind a computer terminal, not unlike the one you're sitting behind right now, and a friendly face strolled by. I waved to her. It was sort of a variation on One Hand Clapping - this is the kind of hand wave in which the waver lines all of his fingers in neat straight lines and then, all at once, dips them toward his open palm until the tips of each finger touch the palm skin simultaneously. The fingers then rapidly fall back into their stiff, upright position. This gesture can be repeated once or twice, depending on how close you are to the individual receiving the wave.

As I completed my wave I realized something: this is an incredibly maidenly way for a man to wave. It completely lacks the strength and self-confidence of an erect, full palm-wave (where the entire hand stands at attention and simply rotates once, swiftly, at the wrist, ending 75 degrees away from the body. That is a handshake to believe in. What was mine all about? Who can love a man with a damp wave like that?

I spent the next few seconds distraught, actually examining my hand and wondering if this is really the man I've become. It troubled me so deeply that I finally said to myself, "well at least I don't wave like this," and practiced a little Finger Roll wave to myself. And that was when I decided I hate people who wave with all of their fingers.

I'm booking my plane ticket this evening. The movers are already on their way.