Microwaves and Hammers

The other day my microwave oven started acting up. For reasons I won't go into, let me just say that this was the wrong day for it to do this. So I bashed the controls with a hammer.

This might seem unreasonable, or that frustration had gotten the better of me, but no. This was the logical end of a rational and well thought out chain of action taken on my part. First, the thing was old…upwards of twenty years, and I bought it used. Lately, some of the buttons on the touch screen didn't work like they should. Sometimes I had to press hard on those buttons. Sometimes I had to press the handle of a scrub brush against the panel to find the sweet spot the finicky button would respond to.

On this particular night I resorted to an empty beer bottle, setting the lip on the button and pounding the base with my palm. When this accomplished nothing, what else could I do? If the buttons could still be activated, it would be wasteful to throw the machine out, right? I did what any rational, responsible man would do. I got a hammer. It's called good citizenship.

In mere moments I felt better, the buttons worked no better or worse than before I smashed them, and the next morning I got a new microwave.

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