The vacuum's broke. I tried to pretend like it wasn't and did my best to vacuum with it's non-existent suction and then the engine just fried and it won't suck at all now. Randi and Earl are working on their letters to Santa wishing for a new vacuum, only I'm pretty sure that they're on Santa's bad list. Or Santa smokes crack cocaine.
When I was in France, the vacuum broke also. This resulted in quite possibly one of the most interesting days in my French life because I had arranged to borrow Jack's vacuum cleaner. (Based on the state of Jack's apartment, I was pretty certain he wasn't going to miss it.) To get Jack's vaccum, I had to take the tram to the city center and then walk about 1/2 mile. When I got off I saw some mentally retarded people smoking cigarettes in a group outside the movie theatre. I thought, hmmm, you sure don't see that every day, even in France. As I was walking down the Grand'Rue towards Jack's apartment there was a lady sitting at the counter in a boutique that was still under construction. I figured the construction was behind schedule, but she was scheduled to start working the counter so per some crazy French labor law she was required to sit at a counter in a store with no merchandise in an unfinished store. I thought, you sure don't see that every day. I did ponder what I was doing in this crazy country with these crazy people. Then I had to pound on Jack's door and wake his hungover ass up, sludge through the crap he had on his floor of his apartment, gather up the vaccum in the dark (hangover), make sure he didn't have alcohol poisoning (I think I said, you stink, you need anything?) and then walk the vacuum cleaner back down the Grand'Rue past the lady in the boutique and get on the tram next to the mentally retarded people smoking. It was then I noticed the stares of the people on the tram who were surely thinking, what the hell is she doing with a vacuum cleaner on the tram? That day, I fit in perfectly in the patchwork of Strasbourg, France.
Of course, Jack is not around to borrow his vacuum cleaner. The brilliant part about me borrowing his is I'm pretty sure he never used it. Unlike my friends now, who use their vacuum cleaner and so now I am left sans vacuum with four dogs and two ducks. No, I don't vacuum outside and no, the ducks are not allowed inside. That would be crazy.
1 comment:
For the record, I vacuumed twice that year.
Post a Comment