I have a few really bad habits like picking my belly button which old mate hates or scratching my groin at inappropriate times which I have been doing since I was a kid and getting belted over the head by my dad and wondering why.
To this day I still don’t realise I am doing it. Pulling hairs from nose and ears is another fail as apparently I do it in public?
The list could just go on and on but probably my worst habit is judging people, well, not so much judging them but inwardly predicting what type of behaviour they have.
Now I am not Alan Pease but decades in the hospitality industry have caused me to try and get a read on people usually just for the fun of it.
For instance, people who eat their food in groups like my dad used to. They cut a bit of meat, a bit of each vegetable on the fork and then delicately eat it, unlike me who just eats everything on the plate as fast as I possibly can, starting with the stuff I like least.
My cupboard is a mess, I don’t decide what I am going to wear until I rummage through until I find something that might fit, or I like. Unlike the portion eaters who have an orderly cupboard, know where everything is and most likely lay out what they are going to wear before they have a shower. Get my drift?
Now that sort of stuff keeps me amused and is quite fun as it doesn’t offend anyone but it’s my other observations that could get me in trouble.
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Like people who walk three or four abreast on the path loudly solving the problems of the world with no regard for the oncoming fat old bloke who has to get off the path to avoid them.
In the same class are the cyclists three abreast in the traffic with no regard about anything but themselves, they are a very special breed of people the ‘three-abreast species’, walking cycling and even running.
Now my guess is a fair percentage of these groups, not the many considerate ones who play by the rules but this particular species who don’t give a damn, would be the ones who would want the best table in the house when they book a restaurant.
Some of whom would take the waiter to task if he didn’t know what side of the ridge the Shiraz grapes were grown on when asked while ordering a bottle of wine.
They might even be more special and not complain at all about anything and then paste it all over Facebook because they are special.
I am no Alan Pease for sure, but I do consider others. Have a nice day.
