June 09, 2009

I Pull Out...

So, everything in our house is slowly breaking. At the same time. And this morning, Sam says to me, "The coffee pot's broken."

But it's not. You have to pull the pot out of the machine in mid-stream, caress the carafe while whispering sweet nothings:

Oh, Joe, god, I love you. Just do me once more, will you? Do me the way only you know how. I can't face the day with only Earl Gray, Joe. I need your strong, dark loving.

Then put the pot back into Mr. Coffee and—damn, baby. You get the good stuff.

Mr. Coffee has simply joined the ranks of the other appliances slowly giving up the ghost. The dryer works, but will not stop. The dishwasher washes dishes—but no longer wants to open. And yet, all I care about is Mr. Coffee. If he needs me to talk dirty to him, I will do so. On my hands and knees.



Jeremy Edwards said...


I'm remembering that Mr. Coffee used to have a real Joe as a spokesperson: Joe Dimaggio.* So now I'm hearing your sweet-talk to Joe in a Marilyn Monroe voice.

*Where have you gone, Joe Dimaggio?

Erobintica said...

If Mr. Coffee becomes totally impotent, I suggest one of these sturdy French Press types. Nothing electronic or mechanical to go wrong. Also, there is something eminently satisfying about slowly pressing the plunger deep into the steaming hot black liquid just before pouring that first cup. I've had mine for almost 20 years (just had to count up - wow).

Heidi Champa said...

That is a shame about your Mr. Coffee. My Mr. Iced Tea pot died a while back. No amount of begging would bring him back. I was so depressed.

But, I had to bite the bullet and go to Target to replace him. I still miss him sometimes, though. ;)

jothemama said...

It's a rule of life that everything breaks down at once.


neve black said...