Monday, January 19, 2009

"If I Did It": Of microwaves, EasyMac, and life on the inside

First of all, if it did happen (and I'm not saying that it did), it isn't my fault they didn't lock the doors.

And if they didn't want me to use the faculty kitchen, perhaps they should have named me by name. Because honestly, if you look at the student body, and ask yourself "Who is most likely to sneak into the faculty suite to nuke her EasyMac?"...well, I think the answer should be abundantly clear to you.

It pays to be specific. "No students" just isn't going to cut it.

And it's not as though, when the tupperware melted and the thing exploded everywhere, any real damage was done. The microwave is good as new, honest. Although really: where are the paper towels in there? Anyway, you're going to have to buy new coffee filters. A lot of them. No, I don't want to discuss it.

Really, you should be thanking me. I could have held the Bloody Mary mix for ransom until you changed my Copyright grade.

Also, I hate to stir up trouble, but you're getting paid much too much to be drinking Swiss Miss and instant coffee. I'm not getting paid, so I took some. Maybe. I thought about leaving you a little something special, but it's just wrong to put good coffee in whatever pre-lunar landing brewing monster you've got set up in there. Someone should organize.

But anyway. Hypothetically, if there was once an EasyMac incident, the microwave is fine. And it is much (hypothetically) nicer than the ones in the student lounge, you sly dogs. Not that I would know.

You saw nothing. Don't say a word, or the popcorn popper is toast.


Philosofya said...

They have a popcorn popper!?

Virgin In The Volcano said...

I just love that someone gets into more trouble than I do at law school. Well done! Hypothetically, of course.

JD Maybe said...


All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson