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Professionalism
Small Town Stories 
There was someone on the train this very morning that was going to get that response from me. Oh for a deserted alley and a wild stab in the dark. She wanted to have a go at me for the fire siren in Featherston going up at night (telecom paging was down).
I know exactly who you mean because I heard her bitching on the platform. Loser. When I hear the siren I give thanks that a) we have the volunteers and b) you’re not coming to my house.
I’m hearing you Emma. One of my personal grates are people who won’t take responsibility for their mistakes. People who lie blatantly in your face. The same people who like to shift blame and do their best to throw you under the train for bringing up their error. Asses. And about fire sirens, I think Pauls monkey wees would help better than monkey poos!
Don’t even get me started on lying. Yes, it’s embarassing to say, “I stuffed up” but it’s a thousand times better than lying your way through. My bug bear is whining without taking action to fix your situation – hence why I hide the status updates of so many people I follow on Facebook.