I Have a New Nemesis
Nothing makes me happier than low-stakes hating someone for tiny infractions of the social contract.
I have a new nemesis!
I haven’t had one of these in forever, not since we moved out of the city in 2010 and into a house with enough tree cover where my minding everyone else’s business was an impossibility.
I truly felt this loss because nothing makes me happier than low-stakes hating someone for tiny infractions of the social contract. I thrive on being the world’s hall monitor, silently seething at those who don’t return their cart to the corral or who stiff the barista. Or, God forbid, the open-mouthed celery chewers the airport lounge. Inconvenience or annoy me you will have made my day. You will have given me purpose.
However, those people don’t qualify as nemeses.
A nemesis is someone you have the pleasure of despising with frequency because of a variety of actions, and witnessing someone being rude is generally a one-off. I should note my chosen nemesis generally has no idea I feel any sort of way about them, as I lurk quietly in the shadows, scowling at them from afar because I am polite. Influencers are particularly adept at being nemeses, as are coworkers.
Neighbors? Neighbors are spectacular nemesis fodder.
Mind you, I felt a contempt for the people who moved in behind me around 2016, but only the few times a year when they’d blast their sound system at parties. No one wants to listen to that much Barbra Streisand that loudly. Not even Babs herself. But I can’t say those people were my nemeses because I never had any real interaction with them, other than when I’d blast Ice Cube’s No Vaseline in response to their showtunes days. I’m sure the decibels my stupid little Bluetooth speaker put out didn’t even reach over the fence, but it made me happy to pretend it did.
Sort of like spitting into the ocean.
Also, I learned that we didn’t hear them much because the family had a second home in Gstaad.
I’m sorry… what?
The notion of people spending their free time in a second home that involved Global Entry to get there made me want to punch them more than a little. However, this wasn’t enough to qualify for nemesis-ery, especially because being away meant they weren’t playing stupid music. I should have walked around saying, “Thank Gstaad,” when it was quiet, but I didn’t because I am a petty little bitch.
I also felt tremendous dislike for the people across street who owned an enormous poodle.
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