Why My Neighbor Makes Me Hate People

Last night, I had a wonderful evening watching the Mavs game. As usual, I got along with everybody (even Spurs fans) and the night ended very well. When I arrived home, however, I was greeted by a small pile of rat-dog shit. Someone had allowed their rat-dog to shit on the sidewalk. Not only on the sidewalk, but on the sidewalk immediately at the bottom of the stairs to my front porch. Had I not been paying close attention to where I was stepping, I would have stepped right in it.
Noting the unique position of the pile (what kind of crazy dog actually craps on concrete?), it really made an impression on me. It really takes a special person to stand there and watch one's dog unload on someone else's porch? It is methodical and careless actions such as these that cause me to really hate people sometimes (all of the time).
I think that there are two types of people in this world - special people such as my neighbor, who have no concept of others, allow their pets to shit indiscriminately, and leave the police scanner on full-blast 24/7 (yes, he does this too); and people who care enough to at least pick up after one's pet, return lost wallets, bring your paper in from the rain, and other things such as this. Now, I understand that there are varying degrees of each type of people, but my mind tends to force people into one of these two groups for one main reason: I need something to hate.
Those of you that know me know that I am extremely laid back. I am not quick to anger. I don't pick fights. I would rather be nice than be a prick. This comes at a cost. I am not immune to the normal frustrations, annoyances, and irritations of normal life. I just channel them a different way.
I store all of my rage inside until that unfortunate person cuts me off, hangs up on me, or wrongs me in some other relatively minor way. At that point, when the time is just right, I have been known to explode. I still do not pick fights...it's much more passive aggressive at this point. I yell obscenities, sometimes deliver a strategic middle finger, or some other means of focusing my hate.
If I am not careful, these passive aggressive tendencies will certainly get me in trouble. Just last night, for example, two kids pulled up in a Pontiac as I was walking to my car. They came to a complete stop right between me and my car - showing no consideration whatsoever for the fact that I even existed. So that the driver would know which type of person he was, I provided a gentle reminder in the form of a sarcastic comment. It was, of course, loud enough for them to hear me.
Fortunately, they were smaller in stature than me, and neither of my subsequent comments persuaded them to exit their car to further explore the subject. They did, however, call me a 'bitch' from the street as they left. This just gives further proof that my initial analysis was correct.
I do need to be more careful, I suppose. But I still can't help but be curious about how my neighbor would react to have a big pile of (dog, cow, horse, human) shit on his front steps.