As a pacifist who finds it hard to kill a nit, my inner Scarface has emerged of late – complete with fantasies of wielding a metaphorical "little friend" to teach my fellow man a much-needed lesson.

You see, I have had enough of self-entitled idiots blissfully unaware they are sharing this planet with others in their annoying lack of spatial awareness and inane pursuit of instant gratification.

The scene of some of the crimes: the airport carpark.

Oh where to begin? Let's start with a three-hour period this week picking up a friend from the airport. First, there was the woman who decided to stop her car in the middle of a street near my place for no apparent reason. No indicator or pulling to the side of the road. Just a brake light.

After waiting several minutes with a bank of traffic accumulating behind me, I navigated in to the on-coming traffic lane to get around her. By then my death stare was on red alert, but its pillar-of-salt inducing glare was wasted. Said woman was transfixed by the blue glow of her lit phone; she was happily chatting away.