Monday, September 19, 2005

The Toaster Eulogy

Today is a sad day. Today is the day that my toaster died. I put the toast in, and went about my business of making some eggs, and when I realized that I had not heard the toaster pop yet, I turned to find plain old bread, and a non-functioning toaster. I tried the toaster in several sockets throughout the kitchen, but to no avail. So tonight, we have to buy a new toaster. And for breakfast I had to toast my bread old-school style, in a pan. It tasted weird and was a bit soggy.

My mom bought me my toaster when I started university. I am a serious breakfast eater, and must eat something before leaving the house in the morning, be it cereal, bagels, toast, etc. So, during my first year of university when I found it impossible to drag my ass to the dining hall for cafeteria breakfast, that toaster enabled brain function through my first three classes of the day by supplying me with scrumptious bagels or toast.

It was probably a $30 toaster - plain white, with regular sized slots and a little dial to control the toastiness. It had the perfect level of sophisticatedness and disposability a college student needs - who knows what random act could throw that toaster off its perch, across the concrete floor, and thus require a replacement to be brought in? But it did the job, and never acted cranky or moody - the only time it ever burned my toast was when I was an idiot and set the dial too high. Or when I cut my bagel wrong, and the toaster got stuck, and because I'm impatient, the toaster was left unattended and my bagel burned.

So, goodbye, dear Toastmaster Toaster. Tonight, you will be replaced. Hopefully by something stainless and shiny, maybe with four slots, maybe with touch-button settings instead of dials, maybe with a removable crumb tray, and definitely with slots that accomodate bagels.

2 comments:

barb said...

I`m so sorry to hear about your toaster. I`m sure it will be missed. Scho schad. sniff sniff

Anonymous said...

Call me you Biatch! I'm lonely!

-Sara