For years I have had venetian blinds that open or close by pulling a looped string on the side. One part will open them, the other close. When picking one, I would expect a 50 percent chance of getting the one I wanted to open or close, but, oh nooooo! About 90 percent of the time I get the wrong one. What’s with this?
Oh, yeah, string. I cannot pick up a piece and handle it without it turning itself into nasty knots. Why does string hate me, or is it possessed?
Red lights. Again, about half the time when I approach one, it should be green, the other times red, but I constantly get red the majority of the time.
My life is blighted by many more of this inexplicable problems. Poor me.
There was the killer bookshelf–the evil bookshelf which collapses as you approach to get a book–but the worst was the Office Chair of Doom. It was a chair made up of wooden slats and one day I got stuck in it. Granted, I had sat on it backwards after taking a valium, but I still found it a bit odd that I became entangled in my chair.
Flash forward 4 years: I need to change a lightbulb. I stand on the Chair of Doom. This does not go over well: its platform tilts and I wind up on the floor with a nasty concussion. Still, I forgive the chair, at least until a month later when it falls apart as I sit on it. Rather than put it back together I consign the Chair of Doom to the rubbish bin, then complain bitterly to a friend that my furniture is trying to get me. MY friend takes pity on me and gets me a new chair, which has been very well behaved.
KRC, I think the Chair of Doom got what was coming to it.
My problem is doors, mostly in my workplace, that have inscrutable hardware, so I can’t tell which side the hinge is on. Normally, one assumes the door knob is opposite the hinge, but many of the doors in my workplace have insidiously neutral bars that go the width of the door, providing no clue as to whether the door opens on the left or on the right. I usually push on the wrong side.
One would think that, after nine years, I might have learned which door opens which way. The fact that I haven’t proves my theory that someone comes in and switches all the doors around periodically.
It’s the drawer in the kitchen where I keep my potholders. Close it and it comes back open … sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly … always just in time to stab you with a sharp corner. It also seems to be able to sense when you’re in a hurry … close … close … STAY CLOSED DAMNIT !
My daughter & her family recently moved in with us. So now I have the Mustang of doom. Before they moved in, my driver’s seat sat where I want it to, so I could lounge while driving. Now, my Son-In-Law’s position is the favored position for the Mustang. When I try to adjust it, it whines, it wheezes, it slides back half-way through a red light (as I stomp like crazy on the brake).
My roommate loves to mock me by pretending to try to push doors open on the wrong side. I have a really embarrassing tendency to move at a high rate of speed at the wrong side so I smush myself up against the door.
And my bookbag migrates across the floor just to trip me.
Like Inner Stickler, I have door issues. My door issues may run even deeper, as I have problems remembering the proper sequence of actions. I need a tattoo on my arm that says, “Open door, THEN walk through. The other way doesn’t work”
My ****ing desk drawer (the one with the keyboard in it) has Sadistic Poltergeist Syndrome (thanks, NinetyWt). It’s preferred position is open about 6 inches. When I am trying to read on my desk, or just surf the SDMB without typing, it stays closed for about half a minute, then slowly creeps out until it passes the 1 inch mark, whereupon it picks up speed and bumps me in the ribcage. I slam it closed angrily, only for the cycle to repeat itself. Grrr.
A few similar stories/theories were collected here a few years back. You might get a chuckle out of some of them.
Currently, my malevolent object of choice is either my optical mouse or my mouse pad at work. I know you don’t necessarily need a mouse pad when using an optical mouse, but I find sliding hard plastic over a hard surface to be unpleasant and prefer a little cush underneath my mouse. Something about the shape of my mousepad (it has a slight curl from an overly long stay in a moving box in a rolled up position) when combined with my optical mouse causes my cursor to hit the “hot corner” on my mac and lock the screen during normal cursor movement far away from my hot corner.
My wireless switch on my laptop has caught t3h ev1lz.
I don’t know who the loathsome idiot is that decided that a little orange, easily moved switch right about where your wrist rests when typing would be better than using fn+f2 to turn on/off the wireless card on a gaming laptop of all things. But know this: it is never an issue until I’m downloading a large file, at anywhere between 75 and 99% completion it WILL be knocked at least once, thereby forcing me to re dl the entire file…
Every door in my house hates me. It’s not just that the doorknobs constantly attack me (leaving perfectly round bruises - my arms not my face) they are trying to frighten me to death by randomly opening with a loud CRRRRREEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK!!! any time of the day or night.
Rugs. They are carnivorous. No matter how carefully I plan my (wheelchair) movement across them, occasionally, they try to eat me. They get hungry and curl and nip at the wheels, snaking around my feet, pushing tendrils toward the gears and lump up like tongues intent on dragging me down their throats. They are evil.
