I still remember the day I grew old. After forgetting my change at a self checkout machine, an younger attendant ran after me and refered to me as ‘sir’. After that day, I was no longer young. I was 29.
I remember the day as well. I walked all through the store grabbing everything I needed and while waiting in the checkout I realized I forgot the milk. I laughed and said “Oh wow” then the guy behind me looked at me and I shrugged and said “I forgot the milk!” and left the line I’d been standing in for a few minutes to get the milk.
My age at the time didn’t matter because it was on that day, I became old. Talking to strangers in the grocery store, forgetting to get the milk, and laughing about it? Old.
Damn, I turned old when I grabbed some coloring pages off the ground to give them back to a child and got called the “nice fat lady” afterwards by the child. Double whammy
I realised I had become an adult when some woman told her kid “that mister” would tell him off if he didn’t behave, and gestured in my direction. I looked behind me. There was nobody there.
I had become The Mister. The stranger based punishment of exasperated mothers everywhere. Fear me, little children, and despair.
Yeah, they had the happy days. At the cost of ours. They had everything, while ruining it for the future generations. And now they are complaining they aren’t getting enough money and respect. They aren’t even saying sorry or anything. I mean, sure, they can earn my respect but at least they have to do something first to earn it: fucking die already.
Omg kids these days am I right better work themselves out of this that’s what we did and now they wanna take my pension why would they do that we did such great things for those unruly brats eating avocado toast and swearing on their internet
To be fair, it wasn’t so much “them”, but a very very tiny percentage of them that silently took over everything and ruined if for us just as much as them.
Sure. My parents weren’t one of those “few”. Yet they do complain. “Oooh our pension is barely anything”. “Everything is so expensive”. “We can’t afford anything these days”. Living in a massive house, surrounded by water, having an expensive motorboat, a sailing boat and a row boat next to their house, owning a caravan and SUV to pull it, going on holiday at least 7 times a year. “Oooh we’re being screwed by the next generation, we are suffering so much!” yeah, right. “We don’t want to drive all the way to you, fuel is so expensive. Can you come to us? Oh by the way, we just bought new solar panels and a heat pump. And we completely redid the entire garden, do you like it?”.
They are second degree war victims. Their parents were in the resistance, some of their grandparents went to concentration camps. They always told me there is nothing wrong with being gay, and Jewish people should never be discriminated.
Now they complain about all Muslim people, wanting them to be deported out of the country. They also say ‘transgender’ is bullshit. They voted far right. They are the biggest hypocrites out there. “You can’t call me racist because I think what I say isn’t racist, so no one else may see it as racist”. Yeah mom, that’s not how racism works.
Age is just a number. I may just be 27 on paper, but I identify as a boomer and deserve my drive-in theater, $20k family home and land barge with couch seats.
Those land yachts were terrifying. It felt like driving a boat, and by that I mean you never felt in control, like the road was the sea and you were at its mercy. Turning the wheel was a suggestion to the car. Breaking felt like a quiet request to a busy waiter in a loud restaurant. The whole experience was akin to a janky “I’m in danger” carnival ride.
This was my experience as a pre teen in my grandpa’s ~1970 Lincoln Continental with a power/weight ratio of 13.5lbs/hp I can’t imagine something with vastly more power feeling better.
(Holy hell that car weighed as much as a tri motor plaid model S)
I got one of those fancy new microwaves that does 1 minute when you hit 1, 2 minutes when you hit 2, etc. I believe it has saved me about seven octillion eons of cumulative time I would have otherwise spent typing in numbers.
My parents have a microwave like that. It drives me nuts because it’s basically a better model of my old microwave. Controls look the same, but function completely differently.
I have one of those and it’s cost me who knows how much time and effort. The only times I ever really use are 15 seconds (for melting butter), 50 seconds (for water for baking bread; 1 minute is too hot), and 1:45 for coffee (again, 2 minutes is too hot). I can count the number of times I’ve actually used the “push 1 for 1 minute” feature on one hand, and instead I have to press an additional “timer” button for absolutely no reason Every. Single. Time. I want to microwave something.
Mine does that but only the 1-6 buttons. And like… if I’m being honest microwaving something for longer than 6 minutes is probably less than 1% of my total microwave usage, but it feels like the greatest injustice ever experienced by anybody when I have to press cook time then 8 0 0 to get my microwave to run for 8 minutes
Look at this nerd setting the power level. Just cook it on full blast like everyone else. Just let whatever it is sit and the lava parts will warm up the frozen parts eventually.
There’s a range in there where lower numbers can be longer times than higher ones. For instance, 111 is less time than 99, since it gets interpreted as 1:11, or 71.
It’s as entered on a microwave. Any one with digital time entry I’ve seen have 2 digits as seconds and then the most significant ones beyond 2 become minutes.
Glad to find a like-minded individual here. I generally do either 33 for that half minute heat, 55 for when it doesn’t quite need a minute, and 88, because after a buck thirty I should be stirring (if applicable).
We had an old microwave that had the button. It failed. I went and brought a new one home, and much to my wife’s chagrin, as is in my nature, I failed to notice the lack of 30s button.
Interesting. My microwave does exactly that and I use it all the time. It also has “more” and “less” buttons to fine adjust the time by increments of 10 seconds, meaning I never have to enter a number or hit “start” most of the time.
See, that’s the thing. I still can’t tell if you’re talking about several buttons, or if you’re talking about buttons located in parking lots. You’re saving a miniscule amount of time at best.
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