As you may have noticed, it isn’t very difficult for me to hate people. It requires very little to annoy me or piss me off. Indeed, all some people have to do is merely inhale after they exhale, and that’s enough for me to despise them.
But what about those overachievers among you who want to put in a little more effort? Those of you who want a little more of a challenge? Well, you’re in luck, because with just a bit more planning and effort, you can be assured that I will hate you. Indeed, I’ll hate you even more for wanting to kiss my ass by actually wanting to somehow please me by making me hate you. There’s a whole psychology involved, I’m sure, but I neither care nor want to know.
So now, without further ado, I present six simple ways you can make me hate you if you really want to make the effort. Most of these items must be effectuated in my presence, but there are one or two that don’t require that we be on the same continent, let alone in the same room. So don’t worry. Even if you never meet me (and you won’t), that doesn’t mean you have to be left out.

  1. Speak in a fake British accent or Irish brogue. Do it in public, loudly, and while ordering from a menu. Call the hostess and waitress “love”. When I tell you to knock it the fuck off, do it more.
  2. Pretend that picking your nose with a tissue over your finger doesn’t count as picking your nose. I don’t care if the finger is cloaked in Kleenex® or hidden beneath a handkerchief. Fact is, if the finger enters — or, if I may be so bold as to say penetrates — the nostril, the finger has picked the nose. (Please note that if you actually use a handkerchief, I hate you no matter what, nostril-invasion or not.) (Please also note that if you now [or ever] feel compelled to make a reference to the Seinfeld episode about “the pick”, you will be hated for life.)
  3. Use words like “concur” and “peruse” when “agree” and “read” suffice. Nothing brands you as an idiot faster. And since I hate idiots, you are automatically placed atop the hate heap.
  4. Cook turkey somewhere in my apartment but keep it a secret. Someone has been roasting a turkey here for the past few days (the smell is contained within this apartment), but the location has yet to be revealed.
  5. Come to the gym early in the morning, when I do, and look around at everyone else with a wry “Hey, we’re all in this together” expression on your face.
  6. Fail at suicide.

Of course, as with all my lists — as I always say — this one is by no means complete. But if you are in a rush for me to hate you, write to me and tell me that my list is “wrong” or that I “forgot” or “missed” a few things. That will show me that you weren’t paying attention. And I really really hate that. And, by extension, you.