My birthday was the day I broke up with his lawnmower.
I get that certain mechanical instruments are inclined to have their quirks… the garage door that needs to have the button pushed twice, the car that will only go into reverse if you put it in forward for a scootch first, or the remote that requires a solid THWACK against your leg in order to work. And I also know that these specific… procedures must be in place in order for said thing to operate properly.
But I DID NOT understand why I couldn’t start his lawnmower.
I’m the girl in my own neighborhood that OTHER people come to in order to get the push mower going. And here I am, on my birthday trying to pull-start his damn lawnmower so that his parents will not have to mow while they’re watching the furkids, and the damn thing is just… obstinant.
Either my pull isn’t long enough, or I’m not strong enough or it only starts for those with a penis. Because his brother started it up just fine — twice! — on the day I wasn’t prepared to mow because the sky was preparing to drizzle. So, I re-injure my tricep and shoulder trying to get this damn engine to turn over… I’m pulling and halfway through the pull — just when it’s getting ready to fire, the cord PULLS BACK. Not just a little tug either… as you’re pulling it just stops, bucks, and coughs a little “f*ck you” then rips the cord right out of your hand!
After several tries and suffering from beaten hands and fingers, I scream out, “It’s my freaking BIRTHDAY! Would you just START?!?!” I wrap my fingers around the plastic handle again, pull back until I feel that I’m past the compression stroke, and then pull hard to start the mower. Only this contraption of EVIL decided to fight back, wrenching the pull from my hand with such a force that it flew out in a wide arch and FWACKED me HARD, right on my left breast.
I now sport a lovely bruise. Yes, a bruise — on my boob — from a lawnmower. A reminder that some pieces of machinery simply require a penis. Lesson learned, I now understand.
Lawnmowers don’t give a rat’s @ss if it’s your birthday or not.