Why Do They Call Them "Pet" Peeves?

by Pam Ripling

Why do they? I can't answer that. Nothing sweet or cute about the things that bug me. But since you've asked, here's the short list of mine:


Guys who leave the seat up. Seriously. Did their mothers teach them nothing?

Barracudas in parking lots. You know who I mean. You’re waiting for someone to back out, even have your blinkin’ blinker on, and some rude yahoo comes out of nowhere and jams into the spot before you can get your foot on the gas. No matter how small your car is, theirs is smaller.

People who drink from the carton. The epitome of low class kitchen mates. Argh!


Someone else’s undone laundry clogging up the system. It’s in the dryer, it’s in the washer, it’s on the floor. Owner of said laundry is somewhere playing Warcraft. And I’ll bet all his guild-mates do the same thing.

Trying to order a Starbuck’s coffee and saying it out of order. “Uh, I’d like a decaf-grande-non-fat-latte…” Barrista calls out with smug smile, “Grande Latte Decaf Skinny…” And of course I still don’t have it right. They make me feel small and stupid. Should go back to getting coffee at the grocery store deli.

People at book fairs who say they don’t read. Huh?

The California budget crisis. Need I say more?

Teachers who assign homework on weekends. It should be outlawed.

And that’s only a few. You should ask me when I’m really cranky!

Pam Ripling is the author of middle-grade mystery, LOCKER SHOCK! Buy it at Quake, Fictionwise or Amazon today! E-book version now available for your Kindle! Visit Pam at www.BeaconStreetBooks.com.

Where To?

Let's face it...there really isn't a facet of life that computers haven't infringed upon. The GPS is a prime example of this. You don't have to call where you're going to ask for directions, or even download a set from Yahoo! maps. All you have to do now is plug in the address to this cute little talking box on your dashboard, and away you go.

That's the way it's supposed to work, anyway. My GPS, formerly known as Harrison, is, as are most of the things that are associated with me, a few steps outside of the norm. Harrison and I have gotten into rather heated arguments on virtually every trip we've ever gone on together. I imagine it would be rather amusing to be in a car passing me on the highway, watching me scream red-faced at my windshield.

Harrison: In .2 miles, take ramp on right to Rt. 22 west.
Me: No, Harrison, I told you already. I don't WANT to go on the highway. I want to go the back way, the way we went last time, remember?
(Passing ramp.)
Harrison: Recalculating.
Me: There ya go. You'll see. This way is so much easier.
Harrison: In 500 feet, make left, then stay right to take ramp to Rt. 22 west.
Me: NO, Harrison. We are going the back way. 309 all the way. It's Memorial Day weekend, for crying out loud, we're not going on the highway, it's suicide.
Harrison: Recalculating.
Me: Got it now?
Harrison: In .3 miles, make right, then make right.
Me: Harrison, we are NOT turning around. No highway. NO.
Harrison: Recalculating.

And so on. But Saturday...Saturday was the final straw. Saturday was the day when, beyond taking control of my directional destiny, Harrison tried to take control of my retail destiny.

On my way home from a friends house, I decided to stop at Lowe's to pick up a ShopVac, after the horrendous flooding that happened in my basement last week--Lowe's specifically, since Home Depot doesn't offer the ShopVac brand. I looked up the address in my phone, which was 2650 MacArthur Road, entered it into my GPS, and began driving. Remember that address; it'll be important later.

As is usual with Harrison, I had absolutely no idea where he was taking me, but I knew enough to be confident that he would, at least, get me within a stone's throw of my destination. But when I finally recognized where I was...well, something was wrong. Then Harrison spoke up.

Harrison: Arriving at destination, 1270 MacArthur Road, on left.

Ladies and gentlemen, would you like to know what exactly is at 1270 MacArthur Road?

Home Depot.

I did not search on Lowe's or home improvement stores in my GPS. I input the EXACT ADDRESS, 2650 MacArthur Road, into the system. There is absolutely no reason why Harrison would get confused as to which home improvements store I was looking for, since I didn't say anything about a home improvements store. And I find it to be a little too coincidental that, on this road, where there's a store every 500 feet for about four miles on each side of the road, it would "accidentally" misdirect me to the only other home improvements store on that stretch. Apparently Harrison not only realized that I was trying to go to Lowe's, he decided that Home Depot would be better for my needs.

I hate computers.

Oh, and P.S.--Harrison's name is now Hal.

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