I lack the spelling gene. Spell check is a lifesaver for me, but it’s not improving my spelling either.
I lack the “I love animals” gene. Mine must have mutated, because I used to be all “Oh, my kitties are my babies, coo,” and now you couldn’t pay me enough to have a pet in my house.
I also lack the shopping and shoe genes, for which my husband is grateful, I’m sure.
I think I’m a genetic nightmare.
I lack:
The dance gene. I have two left feet. They’re both from two different couches.
The Baby Coo Gene. Nope, I can’t get all oogly-eyed over baby humans, either.
The Small Talk Gene. I suck at small talk. How’s the weather? Read any good books lately? Would you mind holding this knife while I run into it?
The Social Gene. I hate introducing myself to new people. At parties where I don’t know anyone I tend to just mill about or pick an out-of-the-way spot to stand quietly. I’m not so bad if I am introduced, though.
The Canadian Gene. I was born here. Raised here. Lived around Canadians all my life. Despite this, I don’t like hockey, I hate winter, and I’m not a big beer drinker – just socially.
The Math Gene. Yeah, I was a brainer in school, advanced classes and high-scoring aptitude tests and all that. (Like my social life didn’t have enough problems) Except for math. I totally stunk at it. I suspect this was made up for by the presence of a hyperactive Creativity Gene.
The Assistance Gene. If I’ve planned out and started something, I don’t need help, so just sit down and let me work. Unless the project needs two or more people – like lifting large things or stuff like that. Then I’m okay with it.
There are more, but I don’t want to lay out what a complete basket case I am all at once.
After reading the posts here, I’ve decided to invest in gene therapy futures.
I lack the Competitive gene. I’m a dolt with that. I don’t care at all about winning over anyone else. I don’t get it at all.
I lack all expressions of the Fashion and Style genes, and the related shopping genes.
I quite literally do get dressed in the dark. All my socks are identical, except the one pair in the pocket of the “Someone is Dead Suit” hanging in my closet. Shoes are also identical. My clothing is all cotton, because it feels good. I have been advised that I look terrible the way I dress, and would benefit from . . . fill in the blank. I don’t care. I am comfortable, and my manner of dress is strictly legal. I suppose I lack the “give a shit about how I look” gene too.
When I got my current job, the Director of the facility interviewed me. He was wearing a cotton tee shirt too! And His had a hole in it!
Tris
I can’t snap the fingers on my left hand, and this distresses me greatly.
i lack the resume gene.
i have not had a resume since i was 17… that’s more than a decade. i’ve never landed a job based on a resume, c.v, or cover letter, except my for stint as a wal-mart lackey for six months when i was still in high school.
every job i’ve landed after high school has been captured along the lines of, “hey man, i need a (new) job.”
“come down, talk to xxx, who knows…”
“hiya xxx, i need a job, give me a shot at _____ and if i suck, fire me.”
i’ve never been fired. in fact, i’ve never quit a job and not had management beg me to stay.
i’m not even sure i could construct a resume without professional help. not that i need it, or anything.
I lack the haggling gene. Usually if the price is reasonable I buy and if it’s not I walk away. When I do have to haggle I’m crap at it, the salesperson knows I’m crap at it, I know the salesperson knows I’m crap at it; it’s just a pathetic spectacle all round.
I also lack the ambition gene. I have no desire to change the world or join the corporate rat race; I just want to take care of my family and friends, hug my cat, keep my home beautiful, and grow old and fat and merry.
I lack so many of the genes already mentioned, we must be from the same gene puddle.
I lack the
motivation gene. I can’t seem to make myself accomplish anything tangible in the physical world.
baby coo gene. The only time I can relate to babies or small children is to pretend that they are odd-looking dogs or cats. Then we get along fine.
settling down gene I – I just keep moving from place to place, because I haven’t found out where I want to stay.
settling down gene II – when I read the threads where you folks talk about your wonderful spouses, I feel a tad wistful, thinking that maybe it would be nice to be married again. But I know that if I were, I’d get itchy feet again, and the desire to be free.
Hmm…maybe those last three are just expressions of a gene I do have, that is, that claustrophobic fear of being trapped gene.
The empathy gene. I just can’t manage to say “I’m sorry” when somebody unloads really horrible news, usually medical-related and about a close relative. The last time I did so, it sounded so fake, I just stopped.
Also, I lack the sports genes. All of 'em. I’m getting better at bowling, but can’t run fast, hit/throw,dribble a ball, or even manage to shoot darts/pool well, either. I’m the handicap, and proud of it.
I hear you brother (or sister). I was also a couple of levels behind in school, and though I did graduate HS with honors, my childhood dream was to have a career that had something to do with the space program, and my mathematical ineptitude made that impossible. I don’t know if that was so much genealogy as it was the way I was taught. In kindergarten and first grade, I caught on real fast if I didn’t already know the arithmetic they were teaching. But something went wrong by the mid-third grade.
I lack the social-skills gene. You know the one. It governs perception of others and their body language as well as the knowledge of how to respond. Fortunately, these skills are learnable, though they will never come naturally.
I also lack the genes for good vision, good teeth, and good looks. As the Vogons taught us, though, it’s quite possible to get by until the grosser defects are corrected by surgery.
I do have genes for math, drawing, and music, though, so it’s not all bad.
I seem to lack the “keep-your-damn-mouth-shut” gene.
As fellow Dopers, you know the situation… Someone’s taling about something easily disproven or they claim to have knowledge obviously beyond their comprehension. And you just can’t stand NOT calling them on it?
That should be referred to as Cecil-itis.
I lack the can-tell-left-from-right gene. I was surprised in kindergarten to find out they had different names for different sides of your body, but more surprised that it seemed most of the other children already had a passing familiarity with the concept. Turns out my mom lacks this gene too and never mentioned left or right, since she was sure to get it wrong.
Oddly I have no problem navigating as long as right and left are left out of it. I can read maps just fine and use north/south/east/west easily. Makes it difficult when I am giving directions and want to tell someone to turn north. I don’t know if they need to go left or right, just that they need to go north. Nobody else seems to know which way north is.
I also lack whatever gene allows women to wear uncomfortable shoes just to look sexy or fashionable. I would like to look sexy and fashionable, but wearing uncomfortable shoes is out of the question.
I have this gene, but it’s reversed. When people say “right” to me, I automatically think “left”. I think it’s because right is most people’s default side and I think that it means go in the direction of your dominant hand. Fortunately this seems to be disabled when I’m driving because I go by “driver’s side” and “passenger’s side”.
My entire family lacks the directional gene. We cannot give or follow directions. We are all math wizards, but there’s something about finding our way that totally eludes us.
Since it’s our entire family, and my mother had the same problem, I know it’s genetic.
I lack the Patience gene. Instant gratification is my attitude.
And the Logic Problem gene. I’ve attempted to solve them countless times and never get past a certain point. The *one * time I completed a puzzle, I turned to the answers to verify…only to find out I was wrong - horribly, horribly wrong.
I lack the sense-of-humour gene. I simply cannot tell a joke.
I lack the mom gene. This isnt just the baby coo gene this is the straight up mom gene. not there at all. You guys may remember me being scolded here for calling a child an “asshole” I’ve also gotten in trouble in real life for telling an even younger child to “shut up”
I just don’t “get” kids. They cant read, they talk in annoying child voices and they don’t like any of the same stuff that I do. I get really frustrated when people are like “ohh youre totally going ot have babies I was just like you when I was young” Obviously they aren’t just like me because they ended up having drool monsters.
THe only way I would have kids is adoption of an older child. I’m completely creeped out by the idea of pregnancy. I know it sounds crazy but I don’t think of it as natural. I think of it as FUCKED UP. I don’t want to incubate an asshole monster in there. Don’t even get me started on breastfeeding. I know better than to say anything in public because its a hot button issue but whenever I see someone doing it in public, especially with a child that is old enough to ask for it verbally, I just think “fuckin’ gross”
I also lack the gene that makes me sad when sonmeone I don’t know first hand dies. People crying over 9/11 when they didn’t know anyone that died I was just kinda “what the fuck is wrong with you”