A few days before I left on my vacation one of my colleagues at work wrote an entry in her blog that questioned the intelligence of her co-workers – I actually think she might have called in to question some of their parentage – because our cafeteria was forced to put up a notice that you shouldn’t butter the bread before you put it into the toaster – apparently that can cause a fire!
Although never one to defend the collective intelligence of the human race – being a stalworth supporter of instituting a Means Test for any number of activities, from voting to having children, I did think at the time that she might be going a bit far; if, for no other reason, that dissing your co-workers on the Internet might, in itself, be a proof-point.
But it turns out that she might have been right.
The other night I had a real craving for popcorn. Now, at home I have one of the original microwave popcorn poppers; a pretty simple affair consisting of a small cone shaped bowl into which you put regular popcorn kernels, and then a clear plastic dome shaped lid. No fancy vacuum-packed saturated-fat saturated popcorn bags, no oil or synthetic butter flavouring – just good wholesome Orviller Reddenbakker popcorn and bombarding microwave particles. If you look hard enough you can still actually find one of these, but they are rarity.
Well, I brought the popcorn, and the cottage provided the means for generating microwave particles – but unfortunately I forgot the popcorn popper. Well, in case I haven’t mentioned it before, I have a degree (actually, just for shameless self-promotion, a couple of them) in Political Science and Economics. Nowhere in my background is there any higher learning of a technical nature.
So, to me the secret of the “said” popcorn popper was that it was made of plastic – so you don’t get any of that cool “arcing”… no dummy, me! Well, apparently there’s more to it than that. You see, in addition to the Microwave, my cottage comes, or came, equipped with a salad spinner. This struck me as being a very convenient plastic receptacle to halp me address my popcorn craving.
The first indication that I might have erred in my supposition was the time – you see, my trusty popcorn popper at home rustled me up a nice bowl of popcorn in 4 minutes flat. But with my improvised popcorn popper I was well in to the eight minute mark and had barely mustered a snack for my dog. So I defaulted to the tried-and-true method of popcorn, oil and pot. But not before totaling my hostess’s Salad Spinner. So, may I offer a tip for all you folks out there who took Poli Sci, in university… … a Salad Spinner is for spinning salad.
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2 comments:
Your Mom must be very proud. At least you did not start a fire and then try to call 119.....
geez..as the coworker who questioned the "street smarts" of colleagues who would wash their food in the coffe mug washer and butter their bread before toasting it I must say I didn't realize you had taken such offense to it.
...you should have told me you were the culprit and I would have toned down the wording ;-)
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