1. Bagpipes. They sound like a herd of cattle being slaughtered and there are a couple of maimed survivors within the group mourning the loss of their beloved bovine brethren.
2. Accordions. "Excuse me, but I'm trying to enjoy my meal here and have a somewhat intelligent conversation with my wife and/or friends, I would really appreciate it if you weren't standing over us squeezing that obnoxious block of air and looking at us like a lost puppy. Thanks."
3. Tinted windows. This morning I was riding into work on a quiet residential street, heading downhill, when a "murdered out" Jeep appeared on the side street to my right. I slowed down as they started to go through the intersection before suddenly slamming on their brakes, giving me what I believed to be the go-ahead. As I was proceeding through said intersection, the driver, who I COULD NOT SEE AT ALL, honked at me. If I could have seen the person - for all I know it was a 9-year-old pygmy hermaphrodite wearing a clown suit - I would have been able to make eye contact and better assess the situation. This is SEATTLE, you know, that place where it's usually cloudy and/or raining and the winter days consist of about six hours of actual daylight. Why does ANYONE need tinted windows here? Are you in the Secret Service? A member of the mafia? No? Then do yourself and everyone else a favor and get windows that you can actually see through - that way you're not slamming on the brakes when I "suddenly come out of nowhere" as if I just magically appeared out of the blue like an unshaven apparition on two wheels.