5 Questions That Drive Me Crazy

This was me reading the manual out over the phone.
This was me reading the manual out over the phone.

I hate questions. You might ask me why, but then you’d be asking me a question, so don’t. It’s not that I have anything to hide, or that I don’t like to share information, I just don’t like questions.

I’ve found it difficult my whole life to articulate what, exactly, it is about questions that irritate me so much. Or why it’s not all questions, just some questions. I think I’ve finally figured it out, so I’ve narrowed it down to the 5 kinds of questions that drive me crazy.

Type 1: The Unnecessary Question

Something has happened. We were both there. We both saw it happen. But someone asks if it happened.

My neighbour and I arrived a the bus stop within about 20 seconds of each other. We both crossed the same oval from the same path from the same complex, and arrived at the same bus stop. Across from the bus stop there was a water truck. It was plugged in to the hydrant. Water was spewing out of the hose, into the air, and gushing across the pavement. My neighbour asked “Is it leaking?”

Which brings me to…

Type 2: The Oracle Question

Something has happened. We were both there. We both saw it happen. We both have exactly the same amount of information about the incident, yet I’m somehow expected to have more.

Same example as above, but the next day. The truck is there again. It’s still leaking water, yet not as much. It is, again, a water truck, and plugged in to the hydrant to get water. This time, my neighbour asks “Do they live there?”

That was particularly irritating as the information available at hand (water truck, plugged in to water hydrant) already provided the answer, which brings me to…

Type 3: The Answer Known

The answer can be easily found by looking at the information at hand. No question is required to ascertain the information sought, as it is all there.

This was me with them reading the manual out over the phone.

In a previous job I wrote a manual on how to perform a certain task. They were step by step instructions on using a website to enter information. The instructions included screen shots to assist with following them, as well as a diagram of the overall process. But my phone would ring, with “Can you take me through how to do this?” and we would sit there, on the phone, as I got them to read out the instructions themselves and follow them as per the instructions. “What do I do next?” “What is the next step in your instructions?” And we would get there, with no further information from me.

But it could be worse, it could be…

Type 4: The Statement

A statement is made. It is not a question at all. It doesn’t even remotely sound like a question, but it’s expected to be answered.

“Have you seen Bob lately?”
“No.”
“Is he still with Jane?”
“Yes, I believe they just got married.”
“Oh. What was the wedding like, I wonder…”

It’s not a question!! Or statements where you’re, apparently, meant to do something. The photocopier is broken. We’re out of milk. I don’t know where Bob sits.

But even that, is not as bad as…

Type 5: The Invasive Question

In this question it is assumed that everything of mine is your business. This question is not irritating when asked in an honest manner, but it is irritating when asked while also finding out the answer yourself. Particularly if it involves food.

The other day I was holding a Country Road bag. Laura* arrived, puts out her hand, grab the side of the bag. She pull it towards herself, opens it, looks inside the bag and asks “What’s in the bag?” (the answer was bananas).

Or this woman I used to work with who would walk into my office, pick up anything on my desk, and ask what it was. “What are you reading?” while picking up and looking at the cover of my book. “What are you eating?” while picking up my tupperware, opening it and looking inside.

You get the idea. And I know most of the time these questions are asked without a hint of malice intended (although I’m a little bit suspicious the invasive question might be a power play). I’m sure that people aren’t trying to be frustrating. Sometimes they are asked as an ice breaker, sometimes people are just curious. Sometimes people just want a bit more information or require a little bit of extra support.

My hatred is completely illogical. It’s not supported in any way. But every time, I find myself thinking “Gosh, I hate questions”.

T.

Do you hate questions? Does it bother you when people ask you a lot of questions? Do you like questions? Do you have any irrational pet peeves? Please tell me I’m not alone!

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  • http://music.johnanthonyjames.com/ John James

    I think I speak for all blokes when I say that we all hate being asked “what are you thinking?” – Girls, here’s the thing – Men don’t think about anything…when we’re looking vaguely into space, we’re not deep in thought…we’re in power-saving mode…all thought-processes suspended – so stop asking us what we’re thinking!

    • http://tamsinhowse.com/blog Tamsin Howse

      I don’t ask that!! But I think I could hold the record for asking “What are you doing?”

    • Mandi Aylmore

      Isn’t the answer to “What are you thinking?” always boobs?

      • An Idle Dad

        Boobs – better than shoes, which is the alternate choice apparently!

  • An Idle Dad

    The first four feel like cues to assist with the flow of conversation between strangers.

    I’m not very good at talking to strangers but I get it a lot more up the coast than I ever did in Sydney, and I get those first four questions a lot. I don’t mind them, they are well worn paths of predictable conversation. We are a society of strangers, it helps to have an unofficial guide to just getting along. A quick quip to those sharing the bus stop is a decent assessment and display of friendliness and harmlessness.

    The fifth is a normal question (what’s for lunch, what did you buy) combined with intrusive behaviour. Do you get that a lot? That DOES sound like power plays.

    If I had to draw a line, I’d put any personal item sitting on my desk is public, and open for public comment. If I left my book there, I’m signalling I’m willing to discuss it and if cover down, I don’t mind if people turn it over to see the title.

    Touch my bag and comment on it, no problem (especially if it is ON the desk). Ask about my lunch, fine.

    Look inside my bag or open my lunch, I’ll kill you. The space inside things is still private.

    I would have thought this office rule applied everywhere – but obviously I’m wrong! Or maybe it is a guy thing?

    • http://tamsinhowse.com/blog Tamsin Howse

      I know you’re right, and they are cues in conversation. I try to remember that. But man, they irritate me! And I know it’s not even logical.

      The final bit, I get from certain people. I think I hate it so much because I absolutely totally completely detest manipulative behaviour (like people who tell me this long story to manipulate me into doing something instead of just straight out asking for what they want) and I think a lot of the time it is to get in my space and manipulate the situation. I had one where I was doing a favour for someone and she said “I love your top, where did you get it?” put her hand on the nape of my neck, standing over me, and looked at the label.

      Yeah, I get it quite a bit now I think about it. I think because I look sweet and I speak nicely and politely all the time people don’t think I’m capable of standing up for myself.

      Then sometimes they get a shock. I have been told I am far scarier because I look so sweet (my mother is the same, she is a truly terrifying woman).

      • An Idle Dad

        Yerg! The idea of someone touching my neck while at work give me the willies.

        Wouldn’t they have to move your hair to look at the label? Sounds massive invasion of personal space. You could justify murder pretty easily, but you need to do it on the spot so it seems spontaneous.

        • http://tamsinhowse.com/blog Tamsin Howse

          Yes, she moved my hair. It was an obvious power play. Which just made me angry and stop helping, because if I have already agreed to do you a favour you do not need to manipulate me – that will stop me doing it.

  • Mandi Aylmore

    The Unnecessary Question gets me the most. This is always followed up by the “Here’s Your Sign” answer . . .

    “Is it leaking?”
    “No it’s mum was just in a car accident and it’s crying. Here’s your sign.”

    “Are you having lunch?”
    “No my fridge broke so I’m storing all my food internally. Here’s your sign.”

    Truck get’s stuck under a bridge . . .
    “Did you get stuck mate?”
    “No I’m delivering this bridge. Here’s your sign.”

    • An Idle Dad

      “Can I ask you a question?”

      “Yes, but only one and that was it”