Things I Do Not Like Hearing

And why I do not like them

Photo by Franco Antonio Giovanella on Unsplash

When I think of the grand and noble tradition of blogging, when I think of what the craft is fundamentally built upon, I think of airing niche grievances. It’s what got me excited to read blogs as a teen, and what made me think, “wow, I can’t wait to complain that eloquently one day about things that don’t really matter.” 

At last, it’s my turn. Started from the bottom, and now we have a Substack.

I have compiled here a list of things that I, personally, dislike hearing. I suspect some of you will disagree, but this is my truth. If you enjoy saying one or more of the items on this list, then fear not. I am not asking you to stop. I am just doing what my forebears did: shaking my fist at the digital sky, for fun.

Okay. Here’s the list. 

Have a Nice Life

My taxi driver said this to me as I exited the car the other day, and it was incredibly dramatic. I felt guilty for not climbing back into the car and saying, “No. I’m not letting you go.” This phrase is saying a lot of things, all of them fatalistic. It’s saying, “you will die one day,” and, “we will not be seeing each other again before you do.” I can see deploying it at the end of a nasty breakup or something, like, “have a nice life, jackass.” So, you know. It’s perfect to say to people for whom you do not wish a nice life at all. Otherwise, what are we doing here? I am a customer. 

Best of Luck!

This one is a “me” thing, I admit. It is very common for people to say “best of luck,” or “good luck,” and I hate it. I do not need the reminder that much of life is based on RNG. “Good luck!” implies, of course, that one needs luck, which we do, because we live under conditions wherein at any moment a bird might crash and die against our window, or our flight might be canceled at the last moment, or we might fall in love with someone who does stand-up. Sure, luck is necessary. So necessary, in fact, that perhaps you ought to be a little less flippant about it. “Good luck!” references the horrors of this world in a casual way that I do not enjoy, and “best of luck” is just an even more irritating way of saying it, like you carefully reviewed my application but are going in a different direction. 

Give me a talisman that’s been blessed by a mystic to ward off evil spirits or keep it to yourself. 

‘John’

I have a loose, flexible relationship with my name, and I’m fine with that. I’ve gone by John Paul, Juan Pablo, JP, and once dated a German who called me “Paul” for the duration of our relationship, which I went with because I found I didn’t mind being Paul. It’s “John” I don’t like. Of course, I get it a lot, since it’s the first name in my two-parter. But I am consummately not a “John.” I do not like the little outfit or the little personality the “John” version of me has whenever someone calls me “John.” No offense to all the Johns out there, but we are different and I am not one of you. 

Piggybacking Off What You Just Said…

Get off me. 

The Word ‘Snark’

To me, every word has a color, a texture, a personality, a face, and the word “snark” has one of the most punchable ones. I don’t know why it bugs me so much. Perhaps because the word itself references a smug, self-satisfied kind of humor that is inherently grating, but wow, the word “snark” really takes it that extra mile. “Snark” is snickering to itself and hoping you overhear so that you’ll ask it what’s funny and it can say, “nothing!” What a perfect, vile little word. I want to beat it with a hammer.

Rock Star

I don’t know if this is still a go-to word in corporate environments, as I haven’t held an office job since 2019. But boy did I hate it when I was on a conference call and someone said something like, “and Melissa, who is just a total rock star at SEO.” Is she? Is Melissa a total rock star at SEO? Are you listening to yourself? Are there other ways we can uplift Melissa in her profession? I don’t like it. I don’t like being forced to imagine poor Melissa in KISS makeup doing SEO in a sold-out arena. I’ve never personally been called a rock star in a conference call, but if I had I would have gone straight to HR. 

Friendly Reminder

I have never read the words “friendly reminder” and not imagined that person seething, incandescent, smoke blowing out of their ears like a hot kettle, just absolutely furious. I simply don’t believe you. I do not think that you think we are friends or that this interaction is friendly. If you want to fight, we can fight. 

*Whispers*

This one is a Twitter thing, but I hate tweets that being with “*whispers*”. I feel like you’re in my personal space with your mouth right up on my ear. Where did you even come from? How did you get this close to me? Please back up. I don’t know you. Worse yet, the ensuing tweet is almost always condescending. Tweets are irritating enough without them being ASMR. 

Guess!

Nothing makes me want to drop your story like a hot potato and move on with my life quite like hearing “guess!” You know, the one that comes up after “and you’ll never believe who showed up” or something. I am not going to guess who showed up, or what someone said, or what song was playing, or which ex called you in the middle of the night. You are telling me a story that has suddenly become a pop quiz. Do you want to take a break from narrating and play Clue? We are, both of us, multicellular organisms decaying in front of each other, and you want to spend precious seconds on this. Also, no, I will not guess your age or ethnicity. Grow up. 

Don’t Yuck My Yum

I really don’t know what it is about this one, but it inspires disgust deep within me. Perhaps it’s because the very nature of “yuck” and “yum” being on the same plate feels nasty, like being served rotten food. My animal instincts tell me to reject it. Or maybe it’s that “yuck” and “yum” are associated with food, but “don’t yuck my yum” often refers to things that are not food. I hate when food finds its way into non-food environments. I also, in general, don’t like the word “yum.” It’s for babies after you successfully fly the baby food plane into their mouths. I don’t know. I am “yucking” this one. Sorry if it’s your “yum,” or whatever. Ew.