1). That stupid lady who always hustles IN to the train as it arrives in Times Square before the other people get OUT. LET THEM OFF FIRST. If you saw a very, very small elevator that was crowded with four people, you'd realize one needed to step off before you could get on. It's the same thing with the subway, just imagine that little elevator is a lot bigger and with more people. But YOU NEVER LEARN! So I shall wallop you in the guts with my gym bag. WHOMP.
2). Those groups of teenage Christian missionaries in their little suits and matching shirts. You NEVER MOVE and you stand in a clump and nobody can go up the stairs. WALLOPED! Kerrung!
3). That family that insists on standing four abreast in the middle of the sidewalk, completely impeding traffic while someone takes your picture so you have shiny lights in the background. MOVE! Whomp whomp kerrump whomp.
4). That Scientologist who stands on 43rd and 7th. I see you EVERY SINGLE DAY and I have NEVER TAKEN YOUR POSTCARD! The postcard on which you invite me to the scientology center to see a movie. I DO NOT WANT YOUR POSTCARD! Nor will I ever. If you don't move out of my way, I will whomp you. Whomp.
5). People watching the Incan pan flute players perform "My Heart Will Go On." Look, I know you love the song, but I have an abs class to get to. Whompity whomp whomp whomp.
6). "Do you like comedy?" Whomp.
7). To anyone going to see Phantom of the Opera for a Wednesday matinee: really? I mean, really? You're in Manhattan to see a show and you're going to Phantom? Everyone in America has seen Phantom. The story hasn't changed. Pretty girl gets help from Phantom to sing, pretty girl meets childhood boyfriend, Phantom gets jealous, oh, wow, a fucking chandelier. Suck it. And git out my way! There's vegan butternut squash soup to be had. WHOMPTASTIC whomps.
8). Any street musician (steel drums, keyboard, saw) who plays "Fur Elise." That song will puncture my sinuses. And you can't even play it rhythmically. You must pay. Kerrang whomp.
9). You two, you ladies who need to catch up in the middle of the street. Yes, Gloria's hair looks great, and, great, Janice, your son is going to Rutgers, please take it to a Starbucks and get the fuck out of my way. Whomp. Sorry. Not really. Whomp
(Honestly, I'm a nonviolent person, but I have a lot of pent-up rage and aggression at the state of the world today, and sometimes I am overcome with the desire to whomp people. I haven't yet, but if someone authoritative would just tell me that it's a-okay to do so, it might be a very therapeutic activity for me. Please?