"What can I do for you tubby?"
I'm a not friend with my bathroom scale. I honestly believe it has a mind of it's own. In order to get it to respond, all your suppose to do is tap it's top surface.
"What!?" It wails.
"I want to know my weight" I tap my foot repeatedly on the surface. "Wake up you stupid piece of metal!" My efforts appear to be in vain.
"I'm tired," it yawns "come back tomorrow."
"I need to get going...please!" I beg, as I continue tapping "I paid good money for you!"
"Don't touch me!"
I continue to tap my foot into the top of the scale and it begins to churn. After a number of seconds the 0.0 appears.
"Finally," I step up
"Fine," it sneers, "I suppose there will be no peace till you get the bad news."
"What do I weigh?" The scale spits back 'ERR' on the readout.
This is doing wonders for my self-esteem. I'm just out of the shower soaking wet and arguing with a forty-dollar bathroom scale. In the store it was labeled with such delightful stickers.
- Accurate to one tenth of a pound
- Lifetime guarantee
- Digital readout
When it does read out a number, I never know if it's right. I usually get a different number every time I get up to the plate. I try and weigh myself three times and take an average. The "ERR" was a new one, but I thought I'd give it another go.
"Ahhh!!!" it groans "Get off me! I wasn't made for this sort of strain."
"I'm nowhere near the limit."
"You mean the lie they printed on my side?"
"I've heard that one before," I get off, "Thanks again for your help. You always have a way of getting my day started off right."
In some ways it's a love hate relationship. I mean who wants to really know what they weigh every day, with accuracy to the tenth of a pound? At least with this scale I can be happy if it's a good number, and not feel too bad if it's not. I'll just raise my eyebrows and believe it is acting up again.
"Same time tomorrow?" I say.
"If I must."