Mark swipes his palm across the tabletop, sending sawdust and plaster grit into the air. I glance over as he says, “OK, well … this table has a hole in it now.”
He presses a thumb to the hole and looks at me guiltily. “Umm … I accidentally screwed through the wood I was using and into the table.”
“The good news is that I patched the hole in the ceiling.”
“I like that table.”
“It’s not that bad … a little furniture polish, and you’ll never know it’s there.”
“Furniture polish is going to fix a hole?”
“From a distance … from a distance, it will look fine.”
“What about when I am … say … sitting at the table?”
He frowns. “You’ll definitely be able to see the problem then.”
There is silence for a few moments, and then I ask, “Hey, you know those toilets that have a flushing lever with a sign that says PULL UP FOR LIQUID WASTE/PUSH DOWN FOR SOLID WASTE?”
“I think the idea is that less water is flushed through the toilet when you pull up … a water conservation tool.”
“Yeah, I get that … but when I am faced with a lever like that, it’s generally mounted behind the toilet, and I use my foot.”
“So if I’m using my foot to flush the toilet, I’m pushing it down 100% of the time. 100% of the time, I am using the maximum amount of water to flush away a small bit of liquid waste and toilet paper. I think a lot of people flush those sorts of toilets with a foot, and none of us are going to pull up … pulling up means if there’s anything disgusting on the bottom unseen portion of the lever, that disgustingness is now on the top of our shoe. Plus, standing on one foot and pulling up on a lever with the other increases the likelihood of slipping and falling in the toilet.”
“It just does. I’m not risking public-toilet maiming to save a few gallons of water.”
“You would if the toilet didn’t flush otherwise.”
“That’s my point! They got it backwards … most of the time, you need the smaller amount of water for the flush, so that should be the downward-press option. If you need the extra water, extra effort should be required, and so then you’ll find a way to pull up because otherwise the flush isn’t going to do the job you need it to do.”
“Assuming everyone behaves like you do.”
“Obviously. Also, I think that’s a reasonable assumption.”
He points at the ceiling. “Did you see I patched the holes?”
“Hmm. Are you done?”
“What? From a distance, they look fine.”
“Ooooh … from way over here, the table looks pretty great as well.”
A few more moments pass, and then he says, “Thinking about being a real estate mogul.”
“Except for the fact that we have no money to bring this dream of yours to fruition, I am totally supportive.”
He frowns. “Wait, a mogul is a bump in the snow.”
“We could totally make that happen for you.”
“So wait … what is it I want to be if it’s not a buried bump in the snow?”
“Mogul is the right word.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep. Rich and powerful person or a bump in the snow … both mogul.”
“Are you sure?”
Another couple of minutes pass, and I say, “Speaking of dead, do you think there is ever going to come a day when you announce you are leaving me?”
“Umm … not when you put it like that, no.”
“No. I’m good.”
“Our marriage is good, you think?”
But Mark is gazing up at the ceiling, “Long as no one looks too closely, we’re good.”
“So from a distance, then.”
“I’ll just tell people to judge us from far away.”
He nods. “Also, maybe don’t sit at this table for a while.”
16 thoughts on “From a distance …”
If I had drilled a hole in the table, or let a duck out, the United Nations would be unable to fix the carnage prosecuted upon my ownself. You are pretty lucky. Except for the teenage hormonal wrath thing.
Wait … “let a duck out?” Why would there have been a duck trapped in the table that was released by the wayward screwing?
New Zealand is a a strange place.
Or maybe you are a strange man.
That second one, pretty sure.
I think mogul needs to be an orc-chieftain from the Lord of the Rings.
Only now he’s a real estate mogul. That would be a sight worth seeing.
So … if I admit to never having read Lord of the Rings, is that a deal-breaker?
Not even have the space to list the many damages of furniture, breakage of things, and from a distance projects in this house.
I find that as I get older, more and more things/projects/plans don’t bear close scrutiny.
If you are like me, the near vision disappearing thing reduces the distance needed. At this point, the closer i get, the more out of focus things are.
Hee hee … and sighhhhh.
There are things I don’t mind at all about getting older, but not being able to see what’s right in front of my face is not one of them.
Oh. That too. Sigh.
Sighing with you.
I know I am in the minority here, especially among women, but I flush with my hand as God intended. I am happy and healthy and have never had rabies or cooties or whatever it is you people think you will get from one finger tip that will be washed in a matter of seconds.
I think the assumption is that for foot-flushers, sadly (and ickily), hand-washing doesn’t always follow, whereas for finger-flushers, it is hopefully never an option. *eek*
Wait, so finger-flushers never wash their hands?
I suspected as much.
Har! And by “never an option” I mean it should be personally mandatory because anything else is a nauseating thought. *whoosh* :D
I sort of knew that.
You and people like you are the reason the rest of us travel with small secreted bottles of hand sanitizer.
AS GOD INTENDED.
Comments are closed.