Kitty Litter Story
Some months ago I bought a bucket of kitty litter, half price, because it was dented. I am a sucker for such financial conquests. I hooked my thumb at it. You see that? I said. Half price.
I left it in the car for a while. Like, a normal person would bring it straight in the house and put it on a shelf with a little label that said "Kitty Litter" on it. But I left it in the car. For a while. No more than three, four weeks, really. I turned left many times. I turned right many times. I accelerated many times. I braked firmly many, many times. I went up hills. I went down hills. Sometimes I probably did u-turns. Once or twice, I might have done an o-turn.
Turns out that kitty litter bucket had a hole in it. Not just an innocent, harmless dent, but a guilty, violent hole. How many grains of kitty litter do you suppose are in one 23 pound bucket of such? GRAINS.
Not only did I leave the kitty litter in the car for a while, and not only did it have a terrible leaking hole, but the kitty litter was on the seat and the terrible leaking hole led to what is now known to be a series of engineering rabbit warrens of European automotive craftsmanship known as "under, in and through the seat and its many components of complication". Every time I vacuum up the grains, and I do, lord, I vacuum up the grains, I feel that I have completed my task. Then I drive around, leaving the past in the past, letting bygones be bygones and forget it all!
But then later I turn around and all the little cracks and crevices and hole things under the seat are REFILLED with kitty litter like eternal gumball machines of kitty litter. Like jackpots of kitty litter where the slot machine is broken and you always win. No amount of pulling up the seats and vacuuming, no amount of plunging my nozzle deep deep deep into the satanic recesses of the luxurious beige leather seatbelt pocketry, no amount of prayer, nothing makes the kitty litter stop coming. It keeps coming. Amazing, considering, really most of it stayed in the bucket. And LOTS of it got vacuumed up by now.
It's still there. It's always there. $3.49. Marked down from $6.99. A bargain.
I left it in the car for a while. Like, a normal person would bring it straight in the house and put it on a shelf with a little label that said "Kitty Litter" on it. But I left it in the car. For a while. No more than three, four weeks, really. I turned left many times. I turned right many times. I accelerated many times. I braked firmly many, many times. I went up hills. I went down hills. Sometimes I probably did u-turns. Once or twice, I might have done an o-turn.
Turns out that kitty litter bucket had a hole in it. Not just an innocent, harmless dent, but a guilty, violent hole. How many grains of kitty litter do you suppose are in one 23 pound bucket of such? GRAINS.
Not only did I leave the kitty litter in the car for a while, and not only did it have a terrible leaking hole, but the kitty litter was on the seat and the terrible leaking hole led to what is now known to be a series of engineering rabbit warrens of European automotive craftsmanship known as "under, in and through the seat and its many components of complication". Every time I vacuum up the grains, and I do, lord, I vacuum up the grains, I feel that I have completed my task. Then I drive around, leaving the past in the past, letting bygones be bygones and forget it all!
But then later I turn around and all the little cracks and crevices and hole things under the seat are REFILLED with kitty litter like eternal gumball machines of kitty litter. Like jackpots of kitty litter where the slot machine is broken and you always win. No amount of pulling up the seats and vacuuming, no amount of plunging my nozzle deep deep deep into the satanic recesses of the luxurious beige leather seatbelt pocketry, no amount of prayer, nothing makes the kitty litter stop coming. It keeps coming. Amazing, considering, really most of it stayed in the bucket. And LOTS of it got vacuumed up by now.
It's still there. It's always there. $3.49. Marked down from $6.99. A bargain.