fear & loathing on capitol hill (gonzo_md) wrote in gonzo_writers,
fear & loathing on capitol hill
gonzo_md
gonzo_writers

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homeowner hell, vol. 1

In all this craziness of owning my own place to live and subsequently nearly being killed by a fridge and mocked to all HELL by a washer/dryer two nights ago, I realized last night that my experience with household appliances ranks somewhere between "clueless" and "caveman."


I had my defining moment of pure stupidity at around 8 p.m. when I came home from the store to launch myself into hardcore cleaning mode - this of course meant unpacking the hordes of boxes containing various piles of crap I never use, moving my TV to a place where it wouldn't serve as a doorstop, and putting away the dishes and glassware Wesa and I had wrapped in newspaper on Sunday whilst moving out of 525 Bellevue. I decided I wanted my home to look like an actual home, starting right then, and god dammit, I was hell-bent on getting it over with right then.


So, I thought I'd also use my brand-new dishwasher for the first time, you know, to clean the dishes without any mess. This sent such a giddy domestic orgasm down to my loins (yes, you're gonna have to deal with that mental picture) that I got too excited after meticulously unwrapping and loading all my dishes and proceeded to put liquid soap in the dishwasher.


10 minutes later, I gawked in sheer horror at the sight of the bottom of the dishwasher foaming up like Godzilla was trying to break out of it and raced to the counter to get paper towels. This of course sent me tripping over a small brown box full of magazines and almost into a full-dismount somersault in the process, but fortunately my kung fu training held up and I kept my balance. I grabbed an entire roll of paper towels and dashed back to the kitchen, where I turned off the demonic appliance and cursed the blasted thing to hell for mocking me and my newfound state of domestic tranquility.

"Why, WHY you bastard...why now..." I muttered as I soaked up the ocean of foam and soap that had spilled onto my brand new mahogany hardwood kitchen floor. Just then, it let out a strange belching noise and a high-pitched shriek as the motor shut down. "QUIET YOU APE!!" I screamed as I opened its door and tried to decide what the hell to do.


Fortunately, Wesa was already on her way over to drop off my new VNV Nation CD that her laptop almost devoured the night before, so I figured she'd know just what to do.


"Dude," she said as she saw the foam-party-in-Cancun-sized mess in my kitchen, "what the HELL did you do?"


I explained that I had put liquid soap in the dishwasher and before I even finished my sentence, she burst out into laughter for a fleeting moment and then held the rest back (which we all know is like trying to stop pooping when you've already started).


So, this morning upon waking up, the good news was the suds had died down thanks to the copious amount of water I doused it with before going to bed, but my floor will probably never forgive me.

And that GOD DAMNED dishwasher is still in my house while I'm working hard. That little bastard is unsupervised and no doubt just WAITING to embarrass me again the first chance it gets....
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