If you’re in the middle of the aisle in the grocery store on your cell phone because apparently you cannot select the correct brand of tomato sauce without the sage advice of the person at the other end, do not act surprised when I sigh loudly, say ‘Excuse me’ and try to go around you.
If you’re waiting for the elevator and I’m exiting the same elevator, please know that correct elevator etiquette dictates that you wait for me to exit the elevator before you barrel your way on to it.
If you’re coming to my house to visit, anticipate being molested by an overeager Springer Spaniel. Unless you’re under the age of 12. In that case, don’t mess with the dog.
If we’re playing Wii tennis, don’t act scandalized when, in the middle of the game, I should happen to call the smug little computerized tennis player a f*cking c*nt. She had it coming.
If we go out drinking and you should happen to order a beverage which I consider to be a ‘bitch drink’, which includes but is not limited to: White Zinfandel, vodka cranberry, any mixed drink with Diet Coke, a frozen margarita, or a Fuzzy Navel, please prepare yourself to be ridiculed accordingly.
If you’re going to call my cell phone to yell at me for whatever reason, please have the courtesy to wait until after work so you don’t put my entire day in the shitter, MOM.