The Book's Rant
Why do you disrespect me so. I feel so used. ALL THE TIME. I mean first I sit on a shelf. At the bookstore, library or sometimes I don't even get a shelf I get a claustriphobic box before being shipped off to some random Amazon customer in Milwaukee. And from the shelf you pick me up, read my back, manhandle me and then decide I'm not good enough for you and replace me on the shelf or, lucky me, I get to go home with you.
You people do not understand the word respect. I am giving you a service and you dog-ear my pages, spill coffee on me, and leave me lying wide open on whatever surface (no matter how dirty) is available. God forbid it be your bathing day or I get the wonderous pleasure of taking a trip into your bathtub. Sometimes I get dropped. But I'll tell you it is not good for my nerves to be held above water by an unpredictably unreliable pair of hands.
All I want is some appreciation. A little consideration and courtesy. I am letting you read me, the least you can do is take care of me. The most you can do is buy me a latte.
Confessions of An Alarm Clock
I don't understand why you take out your frustration on me? You're the one who set the damn alarm for so early in the morning. Did I tell you to get up at that un-Godly hour? No, the answer is no. It was your stupid decision and yet I am the first thing you reach your hand over to whack bright and early. All I want is some love. I do make sure you wake up on time every single day you ask the least you could do is treat me with tenderness. I know I make annoying buzzing noises but it's only because I was never taught anything else. It's the only way to wake people up that I know. Do you smack you little sister across the face when she wakes you up at 6am on Christmas morning? Don't answer that, but if the answer is not no, please think about enrolling in some anger management courses.
The Story of A Coat Rack
I am a coat rack. This is my story. One day while sitting in a box, on a shelf, in IKEA, someone came along and picked me up. It was a couple who were arguing about whether they should go ask for assisstance, or just take me off the shelf themselves. They woman did not want the man to hurt himself. **Note: I am not THAT heavy.** But he slid me off the shelf easily enough and transferred me to their rolling flatbed thing. I rolled around with them for a while and a few more items were placed on with me and then we headed to the checkout. I was paid for, $39.99. We left the only home I had ever really known and I was set in a vehicle before being unloaded at what I assumed to be our final destination. I sat in the entrance hall for a week. Apparently by purchasers were either very lazy, or very busy. Eventually the woman took me out of my box and started to assemble my pieces. I stood for the first time. Then the neglect started.
A hat, coat and purse were thrown onto my arms and then she left. That first night was the hardest. I was all alone, and it felt like a long time because light came and my new family stumbled down the stairs. On the way out the door, the couple payed no attention to me other than to grab their things from me and turn away. Out the door they went, and I started to wonder if this would be the rest of my life.
Eventually I made a friend. One day, months after my arrival, they came back with a slender box that they opened to find some sort of reflective substance. They hung it on the wall opposite me and from that day on I could always see my friend on the other side of the mirror, always there for me. From then on I was a happy coatrack and I didn't mind being used to much. The end.
I know, I know. I just wrote the sad story of a coatrack. Embrace it.
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