I Hate It When (Chapter 2)

I HATE IT WHEN...(Chapter Two)

Continuing on from Chapter One, here is Chapter Two in the continuing story of what annoys or confuses me or things I truly hate:

1. Naturally Chapter 2 will follow Chapter 1. Duh!

2. Easy Peel packaging. I hate easy peel packaging simply because it NEVER peels easily where it says "peel here". I try all four corners, go back to "peel here", try again, and end up stabbing the plastic -- and my fingertip - with a sharp knife. I wonder if these things peeled easily on the production line? Are they even tested before being unleashed on trusting consumers who are expecting to get their ham or chicken home and "easily" peel back the packaging? These things confirm my theory that everything is a government conspiracy to cause mass irritation.

(Imagine the mobs of frustrated, hungry people picketing the manufacturer's buildings. It brings to mind an image of what the placards might say: "Easy Peel NOT" or "BRING BACK FOIL PACKAGING" or "BUY EASY PEEL AND STARVE" or "WE SHALL NOT BE PEELED". The possibilities are endless...meanwhile I can't find a bandaid and there's blood everywhere).

3. On 2. above, and this is the clinker for me, "Resealable packaging" complete with "peel here". Idiot, meaning me, has another go at "peel here" with, you guessed it, no joy. Oh boy, that sharp knife gets smartly pulled out of the block, and as for resealing the damn thing, forget it. I want to finish preparing my sandwich and put the remaining contents of ham/chicken back in the fridge quickly. I do not want to stand there trying to get those little bits to meet properly and actually RESEAL. These things bring tears to my eyes, and I question how much more we're paying for the privilege of EASY PEEL and RESEALABLE packaging that never works. Again, images of hungry, cranky people mobbing those abovementioned manufacturers springs to mind, with me at the helm, along with interestingly worded placards. The less said. Sandwich bags work better. And I didn't cut my finger this time.

3. My partner has one he'd like to add: He hates it when he's watching YouTube or Netflix and I start rabbiting on about this and that. Then have the gall to ask him "What do you think hon?" He looks at me with a rather blank expression and mumbles "Hnh?" to which I take extreme offence because he hasn't paid one scrap of attention to anything I'd been saying for the last 35 minutes. However, in his world, I interrupted that all important moment of a silly person somehow getting stuck under the front of a forklift, or that other pivotal moment in a movie where...well, you get the picture. I pull out my crossword book.

4. On 3. above, he has another one he'd like to include: When he wakes up in the morning sneezing and continues to sneeze for most of the day. He just got back from town as we speak and said "I'M SO SICK OF SNEEZING. All I did all the way to town was SNEEZE. I sneezed in Woolies, sneezed walking in there and out, sneezed ALL THE WAY HOME!!!!" All this punctuated by sets of three sneezes. I was as sympathetic as I could be, "Oh you poor dear (ATCHOO!) it's so hard (ATCHOO!) driving when you're snee(ATCHOO!!)zing!" I gave up sympathising after he sneezed right over the top of me, both figuratively and literally. Our loungeroom is currently awash with snotty stuff let me tell you. Including me. And you know what they say about blokes with a slight cold...

5. I literally hate it when I throw out something small, like a bottle cap, only to discover I actually needed it. I pull on my medi-gloves and fossick through the bin thinking I'll find it in two shakes. Why oh why is it that something just thrown in the bin sinks to the bottom of it?? My arm gets potato peels and other slimy substances stuck to it, some other cheesy looking stuff clings to my gloves and what the heck is that goo...? I'd rather not find out. I resort to fashioning a lid out of foil. Actually, I'm very good at that.

6. When I do something shameful in public, like go over on my foot, and try to act like I meant to do it. I mean, why bother trying to cover up something like that? It makes a person look more clumsy if you ask me. But I do a little dance, try to look like I was actually skipping, then nearly break every bone in my lower legs attempting to skip around, all to cover up my discomfiture. It would be easier to simply accept that I went over on my foot, giggle stupidly and hope I can walk normally afterwards. If not, I'm screwed.

7. When I have that awful urge to fart in public. Oh God, that is one thing I truly hate, and it always happens in the supermarket. Not in the toilet paper aisle either. I remember once having to let one go, so to speak, because the pain was so excruciating, then running quickly to the next aisle, only to discover I really needed something in the aisle now swamped in sulphur gas. I crept back to the offending location, to find a lady standing there waving her hand in front of her face, saying "Geeze, some people are disgusting aren't they?" To which I replied "They sure are!" We both laughed, waved our hands in front of our faces, said our respective "eeyeew's", and moved off, with her being none the wiser. Remembering this incident though, I wonder if that lady actually added some of her own to the "mix", considering the stench when I went back there. It surely couldn't have been all mine...

8. When I ring up Telstra or some other company and the person on the other end is from India. I know this because of the accent. My heart and stomach both sink as I hear the greeting:

"Hi there ma'am, I am Vihaan, how can I be help you today?"
"Well ... what did you say your name was?"
"Vihaan ma'am".
"Sorry?"
"VIHAAN".
"Oh okay Meehan, I have no internet for the sixth time this week".
"Oh ma'am - Vihaan by de way - I am very, very sorry for to hear dat. Can I please to ask your name before proceeding furder?"
"Chris".
"Sorry, did you say Miss?"
"No, CHRIS".
"Oh, ookay CWISH, you be describing your difficulty a bit more?"
"I HAVE NO INTERNET. And it's Chris by the way".
"Ah, okay...let me see here Cwish...yes, can you please be opening a browser?"
"I REPEAT: I HAVE NO INTERNET". (I guess Cwish will have to do).
"You can open a browser ma'am. Are you in front of a pee-cee or eye-pahd?"
"No. I'm talking to you on my laandliine because I have no interneeet."

And it goes on and on. I recall a conversation like this years ago, where I'd come home from a hard day at work, had sworn I wasn't going to have even one glass of wine, but after talking to an Indian girl called "Ananya" for over half an hour and getting nowhere, I poured one. As the conversation continued, my lack of understanding Ananya's thick accent, coupled with her not understanding my LACK of accent, ended up with seven glasses being consumed in a two hour call that resulted in me screaming down the phone "YOU PEOPLE ARE STUPID WHY DON'T YOU SPEAK ENGLISH I'M TIRED OF TALKING TO PEOPLE WHO DON'T UNDERSTAND AND I CAN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT THE HELL YOU'RE SAYING".

I'm not racist either. Just easily irritated. On the positive side, after that phone call with the lovely Vihaan, I ended up with a free antenna including installation. On the negative, Ananya hung up on me.

THE END OF CHAPTER TWO.

SOON TO BE FOLLOWED BY CHAPTER THREE. AND FOUR...AND...ahfuggedaboutit

PS: Did you know that if you suppress a sneeze, you can rupture a blood vessel in your head or neck and die? I'd best tell my partner after I've cleaned up the snotty mess. Thankfully, he's stopped sneezing and is merely snuffling.