Straps, you may ask? What sort of straps? Any sort of strap. Not so much the straps that you use to tie things down with, but the straps that go over your shoulder. Three big straps annoy me the most: seatbelt straps, purse straps and bra straps.
Seatbelt straps: These nifty little devices have not only the ability to save lives but also the ability to choke you to death. The manual straps aren't too bothersome--well, aside from when they tighten at the bottom, click themselves down into a locked position so you can't breathe and then proceed to cut into your neck like the knife of some homicidal maniac killer.
The real threat here, though, are the automatic seat belt straps. The ones that run on the neat little mechcanical track that slides forward every time you open the car door (so you can get out) and then slides back everytime you shut the door (to strap you in.) I was assaulted the night of my junion dance by an automatic seat belt strap. It tore at my corsage, my dress, my hair...the harrassment was endless. I should have turned it in. Or ripped it out of the car. But it wasn't mine. So I just sat there...glaring at it.
Bag straps: Now, maybe I just have deformed shoulders. Maybe I have bad posture. But these suckers never stay where you put them originally. I have been known to get so fed up with putting the strap back on my shoulder that I simply swing the whole thing around my neck, letting it rest on the opposite hip...sort of like Indiana Jones little pouch thing he wears in the movies. I'm sorry, perhaps I look like a scruffy historical adventurer, but I don't like purse straps. Moving on...
Bra straps: The worst. Just as bad as purse straps when it comes to slipping off the shoulder where you so neatly put them in the first place. And you can readjust the suckers, straighten your shoulders, pull and tug and yank...and they'll still slip down there every now and then. In the summertime, when you're wearing your sleeveless shirt...*gasp*...there's the bra strap. (Note: Some girls do not have an aversion to their bra straps (or other various forms of under-clothing showing. Bra straps have become a fashion, yes, and while it's still not the greatest fad in the world in my opinion (even though I've been known to be guilty of it as well,) I would rather see that than the millions of thong straps that women display so proudly.)
My worst shoulder is my right...never fails. I could sew that thing in place, staple it to my shoulder, even, and it would fall. Ironic, too, that I carry a bag on my right shoulder...it, too, always falls.
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