Customers.

"This job would be great if it weren't for all the [...] customers."

I can't deal with people screaming at me. Seriously, it's not my
thing. I've got an aversion to emotional confrontation. Physical
confrontation, I love. But when people get all red in the face, I
just start shaking, trying so hard to resist that urge to throw a left
jab, followed by my overhand right. When I plant my left foot like
I'm supposed to, twist my hips and put my shoulder into it, that guy
standing in front of me buckles and falls like a house of cards. It's
a beautiful thing to see.

But according to company guidelines, I'm not allowed to deal with
customers in this manner. My job is to make them happy, not to see
how fast they buckle behind a right hook to the midsection.

And when they're standing in front of me on the sales floor,
SCREAMING, my job is to give them whatever they want.

Honestly though, I have to start using this train of thought in my
daily life. When that gallon of gas costs more than I'd like, I'm
just going to walk into the gas station, ask for the manager, and
start screaming like a special-needs man-child.

If he's been trained like I have, I'll be tooling around town on
Texaco's dime in no time.