Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Condimental Inexplicableness Musings


Riding the subway offers great opportunities to observe lots of people doing lots of things. I'm always interested in people and especially what they are reading, but usually the book they're holding is partially obscured by others, or positioned in such a way that I can never see the title. Last Friday was no different. The interesting looking person across from me, dressed all in black with funky ripped up green Doc Martins, had his nose all but buried in his book. The title was three words, each on a line by itself, but all that was visible to me were the last few letters of each word — thus:
–mental
–ess
–ings
  • Environmental Mess Happenings?
  • Antisentimental Mistress Spankings?
  • Elemental Empress Glarings?
  • Alimental Cress Cleansings?
Clearly all potentially good books that should be on everyone's shelf.

When he finally got up to leave, I was able to see that he was boning up on Fundamental Chess Endings. Oh well. The subway is also a place where one's heart can get quickly broken several times a day.

It had been a very humid day, and by the time I arrived home, although it was late, it was still sweltering. The first thing I did was go to my spanking new, glaringly white, environmentally friendly refrigerator (see picture above) for a glass of very cold water. Strangely, it wasn't very cold. So I checked the rest of the contents, and the alimentals were warmer than they should be, including the cress. Even the ice cubes were beginning to melt. Somehow, both the fridge and the freezer had been mysteriously dialed down from "4" to "0".

Several days later, and after some minor sleuthing, I can still only conclude that there is no logical way that this could have happened. Of the four people who have keys to my place, at the time, two were in the hospital (long stories,) one was in Florida, and the remaining one is the super — who, as far as I know, is not known for sneaking into apartments and fooling with the appliances. The cats, of course, know nothing, and Tim has been unavailable for comment, being off somewhere far, far away exploring new dimensions. This is definitely one for the books, or a book, which would be called Condimental Inexplicableness Musings. Not exactly grammatical, but I'd buy it just to break a few hearts.



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