I have some fairly finicky requirements to get through life -- but because I don't live in a sitcom, that doesn't make me endearing but difficult, so I try to keep most of them to myself.
This is why I am not sympathetic to the picky stranger phenomenon.
If I have to accommodate a picky friend's needs, I can and will do it -- even if it means every time we invite law school friend Sally out to dinner, we can only go to Zupas, Red Robin, or Chilis.
But strangers can just go to hell.
I am currently trying to find someone who will take my apartment lease off my hands at some point this summer.
I don't understand people who don't understand that an apartment is not a woven blanket at some street bazaar. You don't dicker over an apartment.
Now, it's fine if you want X, Y or Z, or can only afford to pay Q. Those are facts of life. But if you realize that I don't have X, Y, Z, or that my apartment costs Q+1, then just get over yourself or move along. But don't respond to my description of a newly remodeled kitchen just to say, "I much prefer hardwood and a gas oven." (For example.)
You see, I prefer that the world only be filled with puppies, Diet Coke, sushi rolls, and people with IQs over 110, but we can't always get what we want.
(Yup, I've got a case of the grumpers this week ... along with your average run-of-the-mill sickness.)