Tati Bernardi lists the most annoying things in life – 08/13/2023 – The Worst of the Week

Sonia writes to me asking for a list of the things I consider “the most irritating and unbearable in life and in the world”.

I think we can skip the truisms: racism, sexism, Bolsonarism, fascism, denialism against psychoanalysis and so on. Let’s get down to the silly little details, which is where some personality or (bad) humor resides.

The first that comes to mind is the fear I have of people spitting in the street.

I will never understand the person who spit out phlegm outside of a private environment. Some still do it as if it were the ultimate victory card and they could shout “trick”, proud of being repulsive, as if they had won some crazy marathon against life in society.

I have the same hatred for anyone who makes that little “you’re in the bag” hand and passes it through the snotty nose with the intention of giving a hail of mucus in the air. Must be the same bastard who spit. These people should be arrested by Alexandre de Moraes.

It annoys me a lot who laughs saying phrases like “I think I’m going to eat another piece of dessert, huh? I’m not silly, no!” The person says that and laughs wildly. I don’t understand. What’s the fun in being trivial, friend? Sniffed Prozac at breakfast?

I am terrified of those who wait for “life to decide” or “time to tell” or “the cosmos to give a signal that it is time”.

The supporters of the infamous “whatever will be will be”, manja? Possibly, they are wiser beings who sleep better than I do (in terms of mental health, never in terms of good sheets).

But I have Aries in three houses on the birth chart and I don’t even consider becoming serene. I live in a state of mental and spiritual guerrilla warfare to grab fate by the horns and make it act according to what I want and believe. Since I was a child, I already understood what Geraldo Vandré meant when he said “who knows, make the time, don’t wait for it to happen”.

That said, I’m clearly anxious and suffer from queues — and I often skip them. A dreadful defect. I’m not proud of that. But either I drill or I leave.

Self-service with people who take time, I bend my body, closing the person. Book launch with the writer taking half an hour with each reader, I feel sick and I already say: “I’m leaving”. Then there’s a climate and that’s it, I jumped the line. It’s dreadful.

I also have trouble with those who express themselves badly for vanity, and not for cognitive reasons.

That guy who neurotizes every but of every almost-said comma and worries if the bangs were right at the time of every almost-announced possessive pronoun. Because nothing can go wrong with your existential performance. And he goes back and re-edits and becomes silent and coughs with charm while you’re there in front of the person waiting for him to finish a measly reasoning.

Women who stick their butts on social media and write “I’m nobody without my family and without my faith in God, thank you.” Or who opened a nice pair of tits to support the neighborhood stray association.

Anyway, any sexualization disguised as good intentions annoys me. Sexualizing itself should be a good intention.

Finally, I think that throughout my life I acquired a very profound horror of the São Paulo playboy accent.

Anyone who pulls a redneck “R”, who slips on a carioca “X”, who has that solicitous and anxious voice of a miner or who dances with the syllables like the north and northeastern people works as a rest for my ears.

I find São Paulo as a whole really unbearable, even though I always get really irritated when I leave the city.

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Tati Bernardi answers the most unusual questions and strangest comments from her readers. Do you want to participate in the O Pior da Semana column? Send your message to [email protected]

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