My life is sometimes a mass of minor irritations, which constant repetition has exaggerated beyond reasonable proportion. My training as a stand-up comedian, where a quick mind and a quick tongue are key to keeping a room under control, means that I sometimes express my annoyance straight away, in a pointed jokey form. Maybe this is an outlet for me, maybe it's a pain in the arse for people who are on the receiving end. Sometimes I get away with it. Something joke-shaped, said with a smile, may in fact conceal the bile beneath. Sometimes, the opposite effect can occur. I'm not all that bothered, but I make a joke and people feel like the butt of it. I'm not sure I give a damn in all cases, but I do consider myself to be a nice person, so perhaps I should ensure that I don't allow my mouth to go round creating disharmony when i don't mean it to.
The case in point for this particular thought comes from the sandwich shop in the building where I work. I make sandwiches myself, and would happily make my own, to my own specification. But, going behind the counter and doing it for them is considered taboo in the catering industry. So, I must tell them what I want, usually twice, in order to get the sandwich of my choice. Over years of making sandwiches, I know the tricks and I also know that I can't specify exactly how I want them to make my sandwich... well, I could, but it would take so long and just depress everyone. So, I leave them to it.
I don't like a sandwich, that's in a big roll (rather than between slices of bread) to be cut up. There's no need for it. That's the point of a roll. It's an individual-portion mini loaf of bread. It's not meant to be messed around with. I've been frustrated when my sandwich has been given to me in pieces, in much the same way as the parents of a kidnapped child might have preferred to receive their entire child back from the captors, rather than the severed limbs and torso. Still, I've bitten my tongue. If they offer to cut the sandwich, which is, at least, preferable to doing it without asking, I politely decline, rather than pointing out the whole hostage example. However, it still bothers me. I am, of course, a very petty and trivial individual (maybe that's tautology, I don't know).
Yesterday, I lost my temper a little. I'd asked for a sliced meat to be included in my sandwich. The person making the sandwich had set about adding these two slices, but decided to cut them up further, into little strips. Like you might for a child, or old person. I stood there silently fuming and then, when she was about to start on the second piece, I stopped her. "Don't worry about cutting it up.", I said, in as friendly a tone as I could muster. "Are you sure?" she replied, concerned. I tried to make a joke of it - "Yes, it's okay. I've got teeth.". I don't think anyone took offence. I hope not.