The Vendetta

This week's bet noir is coat hangers and their ceaseless vendetta against me.
The constant tangling and snagging, their mocking tinny jangle as they giggle together
and plot the next round.
They choose the moment when I'm near to breaking point with exasperation and jam the hanging
bar against their clones or cling onto the clothes, especially those silly bootlace ribbon loops sewn
into the shoulder creases. They judder and poke.
I hang them seperately, with the hooks all facing in the same direction, I return to find them embracing
each other as if copulating, engaged in a writhing metal ecstasy.
As I swear, mildly, they suck themselves closer poking the skirt hanging hooks into the fabric of an
adjoining item of clothing which pulls the fibres however carefully I try to release them.
Perhaps a hanging system is the answer - all the hangers uniform and covered in a velour fabric that purports to cling to the sheerest fabric gently but firmly and stop them ending up on the dog shelf.
However, I cannot justify to myself the cost for hangers and tie/scarf holders of various kinds, so will continue the skirmishing unless I take revenge and dump them all in shameful darkness, bend their skinny metal shoulders into grotesque shapes or force them apart and use them to dowse for water or the ultimate disgrace, to unblock the loo.
I will master them!