Monday, November 13, 2006

Like a Gumbo Pot...

We were at Campo's, the old-school, local appliance store. Our salesman was sporting that Southern man-coif that he picked up back in high school in 1976: parted down the center, hair-sprayed, feathered, gently swooping down over the ears. He had some good selling points:
  • Stackable washers and dryers are nice because they give you more room for something else. Like a beer fridge, for example. (He had a nervous habitual tick where he would pluck the front of his shirt out to keep it from clinging to his pronounced beer belly.)
  • He sold this set to his mama, and you know he wouldn't sell her anything but the best, because Lord help him if something goes wrong with it. He doesn't need that kind of aggravation.
  • His ex-wife (he didn't actually use the word "bitch," but the thought was so clear it was nearly audible) always used to make him rinse the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, but she was completely wrong, because these new dishwashers are so effective that if the dishes aren't coated in food, the detergent will actually act on the dishes themselves and damage them.
  • This one is nearly silent. The one where he currently lives, he's moved into an apartment now, is so loud you can't even think. You don't want that.
  • The top rack is removable so you can wash really big items like a gumbo pot.
Good points. Good points.


  1. Nice. Just don't make your ex pre-wash that gumbo pot.

    If you had a trusty sidekick, would he be called Gumbolala? Or is Gumbolala your archrival and nemesis?

    Not saying you don't have a trusty sidekick, of course.

  2. Anonymous9:45 PM

    I. Love. This post. I've been laughing about it for a couple days now. Thanks for that.

  3. Why, thank you.

    And Gumbolala is my nemesis, my evil twin brother who looks just like me which is weird because I had all that plastic surgery to hide my true identity and then they gave me this cool black car with a goofy voice that somehow always makes me think of Hawaii and dogs but my evil twin looks just like me now so the only possible explanation is that he also had plastic surgery to preserve our identical appearance. (I wonder how many times I can make this same confusing joke based on the same incredibly obtuse cultural reference.)

  4. OMG! That's got to be the very same buy that sold me my first washer & dryer pair in the early eighties? The hair is the giveaway.

    And I never see your name without thinking" gumboyaya."