Normally I am a very calm guy.
Ask my wife.
No much can ruffle my feathers apart from the usual. Which is everything that involves others. Then there are those everyday thingies that irritates the shit out of me.
Metal Hangers : Who is the sadistic freak that thought up a way to bend a piece of wire with a hook and say we can hang our clothes on it? Why is this implement a favorite of the laundry guys? I hate those things. It makes a racket in the wardrobe when it’s denuded of its garments. It pokes me when I try to take them out. It tangles with its fellow compatriots making itself into one of those irritating puzzles that is sold in the Global Village.
My day starts with dealing with one of these and then my day goes steadily downhill from there.
Toothpaste cap : Why are manufactures still insisting on sealing something with a cap that when opened is separate from the body? This is the era of can tabs that stay on the beer can after it’s opened. I have seen those click open and closing toothpaste which I think is marvelous. It rekindles your hope in mankind.
Then wife brings home those stupid toothpastes that have those fucking screwy caps which always fall and roll under the sink, which upon attempts at retrievals will ensure a close encounter of my head on the bottom of the sink, which will make me belt out a stream of expletives that results in my kids making a poem out of it. The next thing you know, the wife is calling the lawyers.
Hands free sets : I can’t use those blue tooth thingies. I handle a lot of calls in a day. The last one I had heated up and gave my ear a third degree burn. So I use that headphone stuff with wires.
I hate it.
Half my work is done from my car. So I have my phone held onto the windshield with a sort of clasp that came along with the phone. There’s a name for it but it’s probably an acronym TTTIBGFTTIWBTPSTHWTHHGHAB (The Thing That Is Being Given Free To The Idiot Who Bought This Phone So That He Will Think He Has Got Himself A Bargain).
To the thus suspended phone I stick the hand free in from one end and the car charger, which has those coiled wires, to the other end. Thus totally gang raped, my phone stares at me mournfully as I drive.
All hell breaks loose when I actually do get a call. This is when the phone, the charger and the handset conspire to kill me.
The hanging wires of the handset will get caught up on the steering wheel, pulling itself out of the phone. The yank of the wire will dislodge the phone to make it fall near my feet. I will then try to retrieve the phone by fishing it out with the phone charger that is still lodged in its orifice. While all this is going on I can hear the metallic 'hello!, hello!' of the caller. Around then, the charger dislodges itself, hurling the phone under the foot brake pedal of my moving car.
After hand breaking the car to a stop at the nearest parking area, I will proceed to rip the wires apart, throw the errant phone on the floor and kick it for good measure.
I do not take lightly my gadgets trying to kill me.
Sales person in clothing stores : Why do these guys stalk you? It’s not like she is going to help me try on my pants. No, that you will have to do by yourself. So why do they follow me? Last time, I wanted to see how far this can go. So I decided to do a Rambo on her. I pretended as if I am going to the pant section but quickly turned and disappeared into the women’s' section. From there I did a belly roll into the shirt section and hid among the racks. I could hear her breath as she came closer, where upon I jumped out of my hiding place with a g string in my hand to garrote her.
I am not allowed there anymore. I buy my clothes online. It’s more private and I get to browse the lingerie section without being labeled a perv.
So what about you? What gets your goat? Tell me the things that can make you go from Dr. Bruce Banner to the Incredible Hulk?