Microwave R.I.P.
Friday night, our microwave oven broke. It was a Christmas gift that we received right after the wife and I moved in together (we were living in sin at the time). That would make the thing over five years old (counting from December 2000, though it might have been 1999 for all I know...gods, this "getting old" thing isn't easy on the frontal lobes).
I was going to cook a hot dog. I punched in 33 seconds, hit start, and there was a momentary buzz from the oven before it went totally dark and silent. The LED display flickered off.
All things considered, I'm glad it went with a wimper, rather than a roar.
So a new microwave was added to our list of things to buy. I was considering waiting a bit, but after the first night we decided that not being able to heat up Stephen's milk in less than thirty seconds was going to be too large a handicap.
It was Saturday, then, after lunch, when we ventured out to Target to pick up a new microwave oven. Amy had a laundry list of other items on her mind. In no time at all, we'd filled the cart with goodies. By goodies, I mean: a laundry hamper, a new dish strainer, new shower curtains, a shower curtain rod.
Oh, and the microwave, let's not forget that. It's a little 0.7 cubic foot, 700 watt model that is surprisingly heavy for its size (especially compared to the old one). I'm not real impressed with the internal dimensions, but I will make due. For $30, what do you want?
Check-out was the fun part. The girl at the register scanned our microwave's UPC code before delivering an unexpected PSA:
"A microwave? Didn't you know, microwaves are bad for you?"
I wonder what would've happened had I answered, "You know, you're absolutely right. Can you fetch your manager? I want to let him know that I'm appalled that Target would sell such dangerous machines to an unsuspecting public!"
Instead, I replied, "We just use it to heat up milk."
Driving home, I looked to Amy and said: "That girl just made my blog."
I'm working today. Well, not right this second. This is my warm-up web log entry. Gets the juices flowing before the real creativity comes boiling out. Knock on wood.
I was going to cook a hot dog. I punched in 33 seconds, hit start, and there was a momentary buzz from the oven before it went totally dark and silent. The LED display flickered off.
All things considered, I'm glad it went with a wimper, rather than a roar.
So a new microwave was added to our list of things to buy. I was considering waiting a bit, but after the first night we decided that not being able to heat up Stephen's milk in less than thirty seconds was going to be too large a handicap.
It was Saturday, then, after lunch, when we ventured out to Target to pick up a new microwave oven. Amy had a laundry list of other items on her mind. In no time at all, we'd filled the cart with goodies. By goodies, I mean: a laundry hamper, a new dish strainer, new shower curtains, a shower curtain rod.
Oh, and the microwave, let's not forget that. It's a little 0.7 cubic foot, 700 watt model that is surprisingly heavy for its size (especially compared to the old one). I'm not real impressed with the internal dimensions, but I will make due. For $30, what do you want?
Check-out was the fun part. The girl at the register scanned our microwave's UPC code before delivering an unexpected PSA:
"A microwave? Didn't you know, microwaves are bad for you?"
I wonder what would've happened had I answered, "You know, you're absolutely right. Can you fetch your manager? I want to let him know that I'm appalled that Target would sell such dangerous machines to an unsuspecting public!"
Instead, I replied, "We just use it to heat up milk."
Driving home, I looked to Amy and said: "That girl just made my blog."
I'm working today. Well, not right this second. This is my warm-up web log entry. Gets the juices flowing before the real creativity comes boiling out. Knock on wood.
posted by Gary at 10:58 AM
1 Comments:
You should have warned her about the dangers of RSI in her chosen profession, and had her forfeit her job immediately. I've never seen more carpal tunnel victims than when I worked at the grocery store many, many moons ago.
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