I Had No Idea You Were All Such Haters
Yesterday, I discovered the latest Buzzfeed quiz to distract America: How Much Do You Hate People?
Go ahead, go take it.
I took it, laughed and shared it with my co-workers. I scored 13 and was informed I am probably not a dick. I thought it would die there. Oh, no. I work with a bunch of haters.
I say this with love.
A lot of the quiz centers on the hating of slow. Slow people on escalators. Slow people in traffic. The definition of slow, I'm guessing, is "anyone moving slower than you are." I am apparently one of the sixteen people in the entire United States who is not particularly bothered by slow people. Sometimes I am one, like when it's a seventy-degree day and I am taking the back road home from school drop-off with the convertible top down. I purposefully drive really slow, because sunshine. (This is known where I come from as "Sunday driving" and is still practiced among my people.) So I mentioned that fact and in doing so released the Kraken of BlogHer Slowness Haters. It was a hate-off hate-a-thon that totally blew my hair back. Who knew there were so many annoying things in the world? Bicycles. Pedestrians. The movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Cold hotel rooms. Hot hotel rooms. Hotels. The people who built hotels. People.
But actually, my co-workers are not haters (they will argue with me about this, because they think my not hating combined with my slowness might mean I secretly hate people even more than they do, put that in your pipe and smoke it). No, not haters, they are my dear friends. I have seen goodness in their hearts and over and over again. In order to get around my cognitive dissonance, I've decided there must be something inherently evil about being slow. Also: I'd better stick to back roads on sunny days.
Do you believe in the evil of slow? What do you hate?