The Joy of Yelling at Objects

I got up earlier than usual the other morning. As I stumbled aross the bedroom floor on my way to coffee, I saw the scale just sitting there. Oh okay, what the hell, I thought. I stepped on it, still bleary-eyed, but as soon as I looked down I became wide awake with rage.

The number it had offered up was 5 pounds more than what I saw just two days prior. I was indignant. And I was not going to go quietly, nor was I going to attribute it to the five-pound pajamas I must have been wearing.

“WHAT?!” I hissed at the scale.

I blinked my eyes and looked at the number again. The number looked right back at me.

Then I stepped off, shook my head and talked to the scale as if it were a student who had tried my patience one too many times:

“I'M SORRY, BUT THIS IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE!”

The scale just sat there unmoved by my anger.

"YEAH NO. YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!"

And with that, I picked up the scale and placed it on the cold, white ceramic tiles of the bathroom floor.

"Okay, let's see what you have to say for yourself NOW."

I steeled myself and stepped on the scale again. I looked down courageously, and what do you know?

It showed me a new weight, exactly 5 pounds less than what it showed just moments before in the bedroom.

It’s always good when a dressing down can yield fast results, even better when it's an object that responds to your rage. Even better when the object understands that your relationship is supposed to be master-servant. Sometimes, however, there is a bit of negotiation as to who the actual master is, but speaking sternly to the object can yield excellent results. I've done it with the scale, also the car I used to drive, and I'm now trying it with the computer that I'm in a long-term (and obviously co-dependent) relationship with. I believe eventually I will come out on top with that relationship.

I asked my best friend about the last time he admonished an inanimate object and this is what he said:

Well, this is pretty much a daily occurrence for me. It’s just so easy to blame inanimate objects for everything that goes wrong in your life. I’ve yelled at bikes and doors and pants. I’ve been angry at shoelaces. Lost my cool at a cup of coffee. I used to mutter oaths to my teddy bear. These days I am the angriest at computers. When my laptop died recently I said, “Oh come ON! No, NO! Fuck OFF!” and closed the lid a little harder than you’re probably supposed to. Certainly, if a person recently died I wouldn’t walk into the funeral home and yell, “Oh come ON! No, NO! Fuck OFF!” and then slam the lid of their casket. It’s pretty liberating to have inanimate things around to get angry at. Although I guess a dead person would also be inanimate and it’s unclear in that scenario whether I’m mad at the person or the casket but…you know what I mean.

Pretty much nothing happened when I admonished the laptop. It didn’t spring back to life, I had to buy the laptop I’m currently typing this on. It keeps wanting me to update stuff and it wants to either let me know it’s doing it and/or ask my permission. I’m not your DAD lappy, I don’t care! Just do it and stop BOTHERING ME! I don’t turn you on and tell you about all the updates in my life! Why can’t we have the kind of relationship I have with the toaster? Transactional? Professional?! Just handle your shit. I’ve got enough to worry about with bikes and doors and pants and shoelaces and smug-faced teddy bear.