You might think the life of a tech writer is all drugs, cash, women, and limousines, but that's a burdensome misconception. A few nights ago, while trying to reheat a pie, my toaster blew up. So I need this one.
So I'm reheating this pie. It was a sad little pie, on sale atop a pile of other sad pies, all discounted. I believe it was $US4, which is cheap for an apple pie. I was sitting on my couch with a friend of mine kind enough to eat this apple pie with me on this cold night. We sat and watched The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills in quasi-silence, pausing only to let out a strained breath — the walk up to my apartment had taken a toll.
I was about to ask him when we both started to look so old, when my toaster exploded. The entire glass front of the oven burst forward in a blast that would have certainly gorily blinded me had I been staring at the pie, like some sort of pastry Oedipus. Luckily, I was on my couch, as I tend to be, far from the blast radius. I said, "Well," and started to clean it up. We cleaned most of the glass shards off the pie and ate it in silence — a double vacuum of both fear from existence and shock from appliance detonation.
But here's a cheery thing: a Hello Kitty toaster. It's cute, and it'll burn a vague image of Hello Kitty into your toast. It has a reheat, bagel, and defrost mode, and it looks sort of like Hello Kitty, were she pressed into a hydraulic mould in the shape of a toaster. It has a four-star rating on Amazon, and is Prime eligible.
It's an old toaster. The technology isn't new — no part of the bread vanguard. But a machine that comforts you can be just as good as one that does what you didn't expect. Machines rarely offer comfort. And after having one — let's be honest — nearly kill you, comfort is all I want from this thing. Merry Christmas. [Foodbeast]