my life

Dear Keyboard Basher…

Dear Keyboard Basher,

Why do you always sit near me?  You don’t know me, yet you always sit beside me at random cafes, or behind me in planes.  You even found me in the library the other day.  I know you’re the same person, even though you change the way you look, your height, your size, your skin colour and even at times your sex.  Surely you must know that bashing your poor keyboard is not going to get that assignment/business report/letter to loved one written any faster!  Yet you continue to abuse your keyboard.  Time and time again.

I dream that one day your keyboard will return the bashing you have repetitively inflicted on it and simple fail mid word, but my dream never happens.  It makes me wonder what else do you flex your strength on?  Are you the very same person that broke innocent phone booths or maybe you are that person who didn’t care if anyone else may have needed a pen in the bank when you ripped the pen from its lifeline chain?

So dear keyboard basher, I ask you nicely – please stop bashing your keyboard… because one of these days I am going to turn around and bash you and see if you like IT!

Yours sincerely,

Mabel Jane

The person who sits beside you in the cafe not making a sound on her keyboard! 


P.S rant over lol – see I told you I was BACK

14 thoughts on “Dear Keyboard Basher…”

  1. Dear Mabel Jane,
    Guilty as charged.
    You see, those of us unfortunate enough to have learned this touch-typing like herds of goats in public school classes on manual typewriters were forced to bash down on their aged keys just to get the old metal carriages to left the proper little letter up to the ribbon carrying the ink, where it would make a mark on — get this, now — paper wound into a round spool in back.
    Unfortunately, my heedless pounding has continued through electric typewriters and on to the computer age and now finds my stubby fingers whacking the keys on a Blue Tooth connected keyboard bringing this very confession to you onto the screen on my iPad air.
    Mea culpa.
    Much sorry.
    Will you accept?
    Noisy Mark

    1. Oh and I would SOOOO love to actually have an old school typewriter that click clack tap tap click clack was a magical sound – sweet to my ears not like the bashing I hear these days ☺️

      1. When the whole class was in sync to the teacher’s command it was like Underwood Symphony, Mabel. The big crescendo was when the end-of-the-line bell dinged and everybody zzzzzzzzzzzd the space return lever to the left at the same time!

        Oh, the sweet typing class rhythm of it all, Mabel. Now I bang on the keys solo in my living room/office recliner chair in feverish solo staccato, only my dear wife Karen there to be distracted by my racket.

      2. Even in junior high school I knew I wanted to be a writer, so I figured I’d have a leg up if could do it with quick typing instead of slow and sloppy penmanship, Mabel. And wow, did I save myself a lot of time and eyestrain over the years.

  2. But, I like my loud keyboard! I can’t stand whisper-quiet ones. Nobody can remark on how fast I type if they can’t hear me! 😀

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