Ruminations 2

Do you ever look at your cupboards and freezer and wonder how long you could survive by just eating what you have in the house?  Could I last for three weeks?  Three months?  I don’t know.  And what would be the very last thing I ate?  The package of frozen okra?  The box of baking soda?

Why do I have to start all my letters with “Dear ____?”  I’m having a major consumer battle with this one guy, and I’m supposed to write “Dear David,” the same way I write my wife a love letter?  We need another word to begin letters.

You know what you never hear anything about?  The Canadian Intelligence Agency. They must be doing a very good job. Very sneaky.

Has the world lost the recipe for a good candle?  It used to be, you lit a candle and it burned down to nothingness.  Now they just melt and drip.  They overflow their side like a volcano and spill molten wax all over your table and carpet.

How can people eat liver?  Isn’t that the organ that filters toxins?  I like Brita water, but I’m not going to cut open the filter when I’m done and eat its innards.

Why is my account number with the utility company so long?  They make me write it on every check.  Does it have to have thirty-five digits?

Don’t you love it when you buy a bunch of things at the store and it comes to a nice round number?  Like when a basket full of groceries comes to one hundred dollars even.

Why does wedding etiquette allow guests an entire year to give presents?  If you wait a year to give me a wedding present, don’t bother.

Why do people stick with a name they hate?  Don’t be T. Mitchell “Mitch” Jones.  Just be Mitch Jones.  If you hate your first name, stop putting it out there.

People, do you know how stupid you sound when you say “boaf” instead of “both?”   Or “dinint” instead of “didn’t?”  Or “ekspecially” for “especially?”  Or “aksilly” for “actually?”  I don’t think you do.

Don’t you hate it when you call a company to make a change, and you have your receipt number, your reservation number, your group number, and your name, of course.  But they can’t look you up by any of that.  They need your “trillfong number.”  But they never gave you your trillfong number.  “Sorry all our records are indexed by trillfong number.”

Why do people buy cars with the talking GPS?  A female voice that says, “Turn right here… Now go left.”  It’s not for me.  If I wanted to hear a woman say “A little to the left, now to your right,” I’d go home and have sex with my wife.

Why did it take the Postal Service until 1990 to invent no-lick stamps?  Was sticker technology really that too advanced for them until then?

Do you get nervous driving behind cars and trucks with stuff strapped to the roof?  I always picture this junk flying at me at 70 miles per hour.  I don’t want to trust that Jorge tied the bungee straps tight enough on those javelins he’s carrying on top of his battered old pickup.


This piece originally appeared in Funny Times.

About Steve Altes

Steve Altes is the author of several humor books, dozens of humorous adventure essays, and the comedic graphic novel Geeks & Greeks, set at MIT and inspired by MIT's culture of hacking and Steve's own experiences with hazing.
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