Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Breeding Ignorance And Feeding Radiation

I’ve never been able to fathom why anyone would let someone else know what bugs him/her. People, your enemies are EVERYWHERE, and they all keep an amazingly detailed dossier on your pet peeves. You ask a coworker if he could try to eat a little quieter, or maybe eat in the breakroom instead of the next cubicle? It’s a safe bet that that person will very quickly become a rabid fan of celery, peanuts, and bubble gum. It’s just human nature to want to annoy the hell out of others.

That being the case, I hesitate to relate this, but … I find it extremely irritating when someone opens the microwave door with a few seconds still on the timer, and fails to hit the “Reset” button. More than irritating, actually … when I put my food in and push the “Quick Minute” button and nothing happens, I assume that the thing is broken and actually leaking radiation, and I immediately panic and flash back to my brief stint in Chernobyl, from whence I narrowly escaped just as the meltdown was happening back in April ’86 (no liability on my part was ever proven). It was the same month that the Indians signed then-46-year-old Phil Niekro at the end of a brilliant career. He never pitched over .500 again. My god, what a tragic time that was.

Anyway, I’m usually convinced that the room is starting to glow and that I’m growing a third eye, and I’m pretty sure that the 911 operators and the people at the Health Department are losing their patience with my calls, which occur on the order of 2-3 times a week. One of the 911 people, Brenda, has actually threatened me with physical violence. Something in her voice leads me to believe that she is quite capable of it.

So there’s my little secret. When it does happen, I try to figure out who the culprit is and walk by their desk and “accidentally” bump into them, causing their “scalding” bowl of soup to spill into their laps. I guess “scalding” shouldn’t be in quotation marks, as there have been several coworkers that have ended up with 3rd degree burns. Hmm. You’d think they’d learn to push that “Reset” button, wouldn’t you?

Above: A quick finger-push or blistered privates? Your choice.

In the spirit of community and openness, feel free to list YOUR pet peeves in the comments section ... I promise nothing will go in the dossier.

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