One of my male relatives once said he was genuinely sad he couldn’t go around hitting people any more when they annoyed him. “Not like these days. They’d have you arrested.” That was always something you could always be arrested for, I thought – but, crucially, did not say out loud, because I was talking to someone who was lamenting the decline of corporal punishment.
As a rule of thumb, anyone who reckons the best part of the “good old days” was physical violence is not someone you should verbally challenge at a barbecue while he’s holding a tandoori skewer. But he did have an interesting softer proposition. “There should be certain times where you’re allowed to punch someone, no questions asked. Like if they’ve done a certain annoying thing.”
If you get caught doing one of the following annoying things you have to wear a big pink badge with 'I AM A DOSE' on it for 24 hours
He had a point. There are acts, though annoying, that are not illegal that people get away with all the time. We need a quick and ruthless deterrent programme. Advocating for violence is frowned upon, though, and “Advocate for punching people in the back of the head” is not a title I’d like to have. So I think, as an alternative, if you get caught doing one of the following annoying things you have to wear a big pink badge with “I AM A DOSE” on it for 24 hours.
If you disagree with my list and think “writing newspaper columns about your petty grievances” should be a “DOSE” badge offence that’s fine, but go off and write your own list. This one is mine.
Asking unhelpful and obvious questions during stressful situations
I had just moved into a new house when the power tripped, setting off a burglar alarm we didn’t have the code for. It blared for an hour as we frantically tried to call agents, alarm companies, dads, electricians and St Jude. We heard a knock and saw an older lady at the door. One of the neighbours. Great, I thought, maybe she knows her way around these old houses; she’s seen us struggling out in the rain at the electrical box, so she’s come to help. “Do you know your alarm is going off,” she yelled over the piercing shriek of said alarm.
“Yes, we do,” I screamed over the piercing shriek of the same alarm.
“Oh, can you turn it off?” she still yelled, crossly, as I stood there, screwdriver in hand, with soaking hair and my hands over my ears.
“NAH, LOVE, WE’RE JUST KEEPING IT ON FOR THE CALMING AMBIANCE,” I said as I slammed the door.
Asking someone if they’re ‘trying’ for a baby
Every time you ask a woman or a heterosexual couple if they’re “trying” for a baby what you’re actually asking is “Are you riding?” and “Is it unprotected riding you’re doing these days?” If you find it intrusive to ask someone that, then it’s too intrusive to ask whether they’re trying for kids. If you are very close to the person then, depending on the circumstances, it might be permissible to ask. “Very close” for a female-identifying friend is defined as a friend you would wee in front of in the same toilet cubicle on a night out. Even if they are, proceed to ask with caution. Or, better yet, just don’t.
Guilting your friends and family into listening to your podcast
Honestly, I’d rather explain tantric sex to my nan for an hour than listen to your podcast. Using hand actions and all. And you know why? No one has ever gone, “What the world needs is another podcast with two white middle-class people talking over the top of each other on fuzzy microphones.” Not a single one. And there’s a reason for that. If it’s a good podcast people will listen to it – you don’t have to pressure them. Simple. I’m not saying all podcasts are bad, but a lot these days tend to be pushed by people at the Bono end of the self-awareness spectrum.
Not pushing the pedestrian-crossing button
The person closest/first at the crossing bears this burden. Otherwise people come and stand at the corner and assume you’ve already pushed it because you were already standing there. Then the cars keep coming. The little man stays red. Three hours pass because this is Ireland and you can’t just ask someone if they pushed the button or dare push it yourself in case you accidentally imply that they’re a big eejit who doesn’t know how buttons work. Even though THEY ARE a big eejit.
Listen, NO ONE wants to touch the button. Especially during Covid. But it’s your civic, nay, your moral duty to push the button so that we can all move from this dirty city street corner and on with our lives.
Making your child order their own food at rush hour in the cafe
It’s 8.30am. Everyone here is miserable, needs coffee and is afraid of being late for work. Now is not the time for little Síofra to agonise over whether she would like marshmallows on top. (It is always a child with an Irish name in these situations, strangely. Never a Mikayla.) Poor Síofra’s nerves are shot because the barista is stressed and there’s a line of impatient people watching. No one is having a good time here. Pick another time to practise this life skill.
I have many more grievances but no more space left. Please feel free to tweet me yours and together we can become #pettycrimestoppers.