How to Deal With Other People's Rude Behavior
Experts call annoying habits 'social allergens' and advise you to ask: Was it intentional? Was it directed at me personally?
By Elizabeth Bernstein, WSJ
Updated July 1, 2014 4:52 p.m. ET
I have been staying with my parents recently, while my house is being renovated. I have also been breaking out in hives.
They appear in the evening, soon after my dad starts clearing his throat over and over while reading in his study. I start to itch furiously when my mom, every half-hour or so, slowly opens the door to the room where I am writing, peers in and cheerfully chirps, "How's it going?"
I have wonderful parents, and I love them, but after spending last weekend away from them—with zero hives!—I had a troubling thought: Am I allergic to them?
Experts use the term "social allergens" to describe behaviors or habits that drive others nuts. Some of these actions begin to annoy us soon after we meet someone. Others get to us slowly and surely over time.
(More here.)
By Elizabeth Bernstein, WSJ
Updated July 1, 2014 4:52 p.m. ET
I have been staying with my parents recently, while my house is being renovated. I have also been breaking out in hives.
They appear in the evening, soon after my dad starts clearing his throat over and over while reading in his study. I start to itch furiously when my mom, every half-hour or so, slowly opens the door to the room where I am writing, peers in and cheerfully chirps, "How's it going?"
I have wonderful parents, and I love them, but after spending last weekend away from them—with zero hives!—I had a troubling thought: Am I allergic to them?
Experts use the term "social allergens" to describe behaviors or habits that drive others nuts. Some of these actions begin to annoy us soon after we meet someone. Others get to us slowly and surely over time.
(More here.)
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1 Comments:
Dear Independence Day Ladies:
In the modern workaday office world, too often, men behave junkily toward ladies.
Some ladies refer to these specimens as "man babies."
I was unfamiliar with this phrase before this morning.
So, now that I know it, I have decided to write a Strained-Peas-And-Carrots Parody for all you ladies plagued by these "Baby-Men."
As a celebration of what we might call your Office Independence Day.
A gift from your Uncle Sam.
Er, Caleb.
Master Of The Crib!
A parody by Caleb Boone.
To be sung to the tune of "Master of the House" from "Les Miserables."
Master of the crib, little Baby-Man,
Eating Gerber applesauce that's mixed with ham,
Tells a fairy tale, makes me call him "Sir,"
Hopes that we will think he is a bon-viveur,
Let me help him tie his bonnet,
Tuck him in his baby bed so nice,
Sucking on a pacifier,
Have some pureed salmon-peas-and-rice!
Master of the pram, rolling through the zoo,
Watching sloths and chimpanzees look back at you,
Holding a balloon, like a small baboon,
Drink some soymilk formula and say "goo-goo,"
Soon we'll have to change your diaper,
Powder you with talcum carefully,
Giving you a spongebath,
Certainly is not my cup of tea!
Baby-not-a-man, chauvanistic clan,
Junky, rude behavior is his only plan,
Warthog is his name, grossness is his game,
Hideous conversation his Manhattan fame,
Everybody's loon companion,
The etiquette of Al Capone,
Forgot all his good manners,
Watch me while I skin him to the bone!
Bad taste beyond compare, oafish beyond belief,
Mix him in a mincer and pretend he's beef,
Panache of Ghengis Khan, suave as Rouge Khmer,
Sailor's talk as if he's Captain Cook's au pair,
Curses and insults are welcome,
In his lexicon of life,
If you should care to visit him,
Please bring a tin of snuff but not your wife!
Combs his hair for lice, extra for the mice,
Two percent for looking in the mirror twice,
Here a little slice, there a little cut,
He's a hippopotamus, a first-class nut,
When it comes to making trouble,
There are a lot of tricks he knows,
Gossip is his favorite thing,
See how he coffe-cups and crows!
Show him to the door, walk him to the curb,
Take him to a place where he cannot disturb,
Cunning little brain, regular Voltaire,
Thinks he's quite a genius but there's not much there,
What a cruel trick of nature landed me with such a louse,
I don't know how I've lasted working with this heathen in the house!
Warthog of the house!
Master and a half!
Comforter, philosopher,
Don't make me laugh!
Servant to the poor, butler to the great,
Hypocrite and toady and inebriate!
What a rattle-shaking toddler!
I'd rather shoot at him than at a grouse!
I'll truss him up and roast him under glass,
We know he has no Bergdorf-Goodman class,
Raise a flagon to Biggest Crying Baby in the House!
Have a Dovely.
Sincerely yours,
Phil Donahue.
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