Although I am yet to hit 50, it seems that I have entered that phase of life in which my only contribution to society is going to be Telling Everyone What They Are Doing Wrong.  Not a day passes without a rant against ineptitude, a moan about ennui, a debate on general sloppiness, or screamig at the top of my lungs about the downright criminal liberties taken by chain retailers. How many times in the past year have I verbally castrated a customer service rep for ... well, their lack of service?  You don't want to know.  Because I'll tell you. Word for word. I have come to the conclusion that I should embrace this aspect of my personality.  Let's face it, it's not like I'm "growing" on a lot of other levels.  Most of the rest of the package seems to be written in stone by now, and I think it's only fair to wait until I'm at least 60 to become Truly Eccentric.  (I'm saving the pink face paint and the bikini/fez combo until then.)

So, be warned.  I'm watching.

Yours,

Disgruntled of Stoke Newington

PS. I am not a pensioner.