Write what you know.
Write about what makes you angry.
Well, okay. Here goes.
1) Doors that are heavy and close on their own.
I am an adult. I am capable of closing a door behind me. I don't need you, oh apartment building administrators (et al), to rig it so that as soon as I stop pushing on the thing with all my might, it snapdragons back at me like a venus fly trap, closing with a "thud" or a "bang" or a "slam," usually on my rear bike derailer*. I understand security, but I'd also like to be able to buy groceries and move things in and out of my home.
Furthermore, every door should be open-able with one hand. If I put the proper key into a door lock and turn it, I should gain access through that door. Anything that requires me to use two hands - whether it be to push or, worse, to manipulate two handles at once - should be illegal.
It's kind of like that part in The Last Crusade, where the penitent man shall pass? The penitent man kneels before God - sure. But did you notice the vertical blade that followed right on the heels of the two horizontal ones that are avoided through "penitence?" Penitence is only the first step. Then, you have to roll, jump, and whip just so to stop the gears before you're decapitated, regardless of your knowledge of the Old Testament.
Kneeling should be enough. Stop making doors that resist their primary purpose - to open.
This makes me so angry.
2) Standing in front of empty seats on public transit.
So you don't want to sit next to a stranger. Fine. Totally up to you. But don't turn your back (figuratively) on an empty seat just so you can stand right in front of the damn thing, facing (literally) the abandoned possibility of sitting. If you're afraid of other people, that's your business, but unless you're playing in the NBA, nobody benefits from you using your entitled ass to prevent people from getting where they want to go (in this case, sitting).
3) Poor snow etiquette.
Today, I could have legally inherited three dozen milk crates, four dozen buckets, some basic patio furniture, and a trash can or two. Nothing unusual there. But apparently I am unaware of the true value of a parking spot, because I could also have inherited a nice wooden barstool, a baby pool, some shelving, and a stroller. A stroller. Doesn't your child need that? If not, doesn't somebody's child need that? Also, didn't that cost you over $100?
Also, chairs, buckets, milk crates etc are for the purpose of marking a spot that you personally dug out for a short duration of time while the streets and sidewalks remain unshoveled. A week after the blizzard, you might be getting just a little possessive of that particular piece of pavement.
Also, who are the dicks going around claiming spots they didn't dig out as their own? Let me give those dicks some advice. Hey dicks: Moses didn't dig out that parking spot. Someone else did. And they didn't piss in it when they left because they are part of a community, and they're trusting that other people are too, and that we're all working together to get through adverse conditions. By claiming that spot as your own when you leave it, you are pushing us closer to a society ruled by Jeb Bush and measles.
It's not yours. Don't pretend it is.
5) Who's proofreading this shit?.
Look - nobody's perfect. We all make mistakes. And nobody needs to be perfect, especially when it comes to language, grammar, and punctuation. We'll probably figure out what you mean. But there's a huge gap between not being perfect and completely not giving a shit.
For example, here's a sign from the House on the Rock in Wisconsin:
I get what you mean, but I'm gonna take as much care not to climb on those rocks as you did in spraying punctuation all over that wooden post.
Also, if you're in the business of something intellectual -- like for example, you want me to use your lawyering service -- maybe spell words correctly and avoid comma splices, apostrophe s's to pluralize, and confusing sentences like this one.
How did I do?