One of my coworkers introduced their friend to me: "Meet Bob. He's a pacifist." I don't understand why it's necessary characterize someone right away - and I find it offensive. It's intrusive, like they're trying to hot-wire my brain to accept "Bob = pacifist" before I have the opportunity to form my own opinion, and I generally have a knee-jerk reaction. In this case, I mean that quite literally - I had the urge to jerk my knee into Bob's scrotum to see if he really was a pacifist. Luckily (for Bob), I realized it would probably be gauche, and decided to wait for a more subtle opportunity to test his resolve, like "accidentally" pissing on him or screwing his wife.

"Meet Joe. He's a bastard."

Some folks say I have a problem controlling negative emotions. I can't imagine why anyone would see that as a problem. There are situations in which hatred, anger, and blind outrage are completely reasonable responses to certain stimuli. Have you never stood in a line of fifteen people in the cash-only, 10-items-or-less lane for half an hour while some gormless dolt stands at the front with a month's worth of groceries for their entire building and tries to pay with an expired debit card from an overseas bank?

... even Bob would get a little testy.

I prefer to think that other people have a problem expressing negative emotions. I'd much rather be known as an obnoxious bastard than someone who's always quiet and polite - especially when you consider that you usually hear people call someone "quiet" and "polite" right after they've marched into a day care center with a pick-axe. So the next time someone like me spits in your drink or tosses a lit cigarette down your collar, try to be a little more understanding.

Saying "thanks" is optional.