Admit it. People think people are idiots.
It’s true. We all do. There are plenty who I think are idiots and I can assure you, there are puh-lenty who think I am. Hell, even I admit to that some times.
Therefore, everyone thinks they need to supply instructions for everyone else on how to do things.
On pretty much everything.
Because we all think others need to be instructed or directed on how to do something. And all those others, think we need it.
Shampoo bottle: Lather, rinse and repeat.
Packet of airline peanuts: Open packet. Eat nuts.
Bottle of aspirin: Do not take if allergic to aspirin.
Puzzle box: Some assembly required.
Toaster box: Do not use in or near water.
Enter. Do not enter. Yield. Watch for children. Stop.
I think you get it.
I loathe getting my nails done. Almost as much as sweating, but not quite. But close.
But it’s an ugly chore I must face at least every 3 weeks. Or actually, more like 5 weeks cause that’s how long I pushed it this last time between nail-doings.
My nails were beginning to appear homeless. Or that they belong on a Labrador Retriever.
So, I drag up to the nail shop this morning. Cause that’s just where I wanna be on a chilly Saturday morning.
The nail shop.
She does’em and doesn’t say much. At all. She knows I ain’t there for yacking.
And that’s why I go to her. Her ability to non-yack for 49 minutes. Yes, I time it. And I push her to beat her last record every time.
I’m now at the nail dryer. The absolute worst part of the whole crap. Sitting there. Like an idiot with your paws stuffed under this humming machine.
All you gotta do is sit there. Stick your hands under this contraption. Shut up and wait about 4 minutes.
(For me, it’s more like 2.7 minutes then just hold’em in front of the air vents in the car on the way home while driving with my knees.)
Got me some instructions working:
But what are we idiots supposed to do when it was another idiot that did the instructions?
I couldn’t help it. I got tickled and started giggling.
This made the whole having to get up, get dressed, kick the wall cause I didn’t wanna go then slam the car door while flipping off my neighbor’s dog all worth it:
I think what it meant was, “The automatic fan will automatically stop when you move your hands out.”
At least, I hope that’s what it meant to say.
And these were not instructions the nail-doers just typed up and taped on…they were stuck on the machine from the factory or nail-dryer-maker.
This just totally put a new spin on my morning. It was now filled with “internal” giggles because I didn’t want to have to explain. Nobody else would have thought it was funny.
You probably don’t even think it’s funny because you might think I’m an idiot.
And if you think that, then I think it back.
So there. I’m now glad I went to get my hoofs done. They look better and I’m a little less of an idiot because I now know I have to move out of my hands when using the nail-dryer-thing.
Look around. You’ll start to see more idiot instructions now. All because of me.