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Let's talk about the difficult people in parking lots. You know the type - the Parking Lot Picassos. They think the parking lines are just suggestions, not actual boundaries. I parked my car the other day, and I swear the person next to me left about an inch of space. I thought, "Are they practicing for a tightrope walking audition or something?" I had to squeeze in like I was playing a game of automotive Tetris.
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You ever been to a restaurant and there's always that one person who can turn ordering a meal into a dramatic production? I was at this place the other day, and this guy at the table next to me was making a simple act of ordering food feel like a Shakespearean tragedy. The server would ask, "How would you like your steak cooked?" And he'd go, "Oh, the eternal question! To sear or not to sear, that is the dilemma!" I'm just sitting there thinking, "Dude, it's not a soliloquy; it's a sirloin!
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We've all encountered that person at work who's like an office ninja, stealthily sneaking into conversations and making them all about themselves. You could be talking about your weekend plans, and suddenly, they appear out of nowhere, like, "Oh, that reminds me of this one time I climbed Mount Everest blindfolded while juggling flaming bowling pins." And you're standing there thinking, "I just wanted to tell someone I'm going to the movies, not compete in the Extreme Life Olympics!
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Now, elevators are another battleground of difficult people. You press the button, and it's like summoning a mythical creature. There's always that person who, instead of waiting patiently, starts pressing the button repeatedly, as if it's going to make the elevator arrive faster. It's like they're conducting a desperate symphony of impatience. I half-expect them to break into a rendition of "Flight of the Bumblebee" with the elevator's arrival as the grand finale.
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