Let's face it: fountain pen ownership these days is a simple matter of narcissism. If a pen was a simple utilitarian object, a disposable and free ballpoint would do the job quite well and with no fuss. Those of us who buy fountain pens (I'll restrict myself to that class of pens for the purposes of argument) do so as an expression of individuality, a link to the "machine age" and, in some cases, as a status totem. Personally, I like the way fp's write and I especially enjoy vintage nibs (Parkers, mostly).
Agree to disagree. I can't even begin to count how many times I envisioned myself going on a murderous rampage after picking up a ballpoint, trying to write with it, only to discover that it apparently requires a sacrificial goat or some mystical pass or Herculean strength to get the ink flowing. This is why I don't own guns. "Female goes on a shooting spree after trying three pens. Chaos in downtown" isn't something I'd like to see on the front page, and when I'm in a hurry and need to write, wrestling with an object that apparently was designed to be a pen but is now just a plastic rod really aggravates me.
Yes, you guessed it. I'm very short-tempered. Patience is a virtue but I never got that memo until it was too late.
I also beg to differ that musical instruments are soul-less. They all have personalities (to me). One of my violins is a docile creature, not fussy at all - in crude terms, "will put out for anything" - while my main violin is bordering emotional harassment. "You left me alone for far too long, I'm going to pout and snap the string in your face". "It's too cold, I think I'll croak for a while." "It's too humid, no resonating sound for you!". If he (yes, it's a he) was a 35 year old man, this is where we'd be breaking up.
Of course, I also think my printer's a psychopathic bully out to get me. It always jams when I need to print something in a hurry.
But going back to the topic, personalities are, in fact, your projection viewed by others. You just are; people decide whether you are short-temper, or if you are kind, or logical, or any other term people slap onto you. In which case, the same thing can be applied to pens; the pen just is, and you decide whether it's cranky, or smooth, or anything else.
So when do you get to know the pen and the pen's no longer just a pen? I think that's a little like asking "so when does the new girl in class turn from just someone else to someone you actually know?" and in which case, it takes time but also the density of experiences. If you wrote with one pen everyday, took it everywhere, it'd probably take less time to know it than a pen you've had for years but didn't quite ever use it.
Tes rires retroussés comme à son bord la rose,
Effacent mon dépit de ta métamorphose;
Tu t'éveilles, alors le rêve est oublié.
-Jean Cocteau, from Plaint-Chant, 1923