I finally dug my grandparents’ silverware out of a box in the garage, cleaned it and stuck it in the drawer with the rest of the knives, forks and spoons. I informed the roommates via email:
A DIALOGUE, IN ONE SCENE:
You: “Hey, what are these new knives and forks and spoons in the drawer?”
Me: “It’s silverware — like, actual SILVER ware — that belonged to my grandparents, which I unearthed today in the garage.”
You: “You know there’s like four pieces of some things and eight of others, right?”
Me: “Yes. It already drives me nuts, like they left me with mismatched numbers specifically to mess with my head, so please don’t rub it in.”
You: “Can I use it?”
Me: “Yes … BUT it can’t go in the dishwasher, because the detergent will eat away at the silver. Hand wash only! Like Mr. Brooks’ nice glasses.”
You: “I’m just saying: There are only TWO TABLESPOONS, and like SEVEN KNIVES. So random and uneven.”
Me: [Plugs ears.] “La la la la la I can’t hear you.”
Imagine what my emails that recap the monthly bills are like.
|WHAT SAM WORE: 1-24-12|
|The shirt: “South Austin Cock Fight” T-shirt, a gift from my friend (and Austin resident) Sharyn,
over a ¾-sleeve waffle-weave T-shirt, on clearance at Uniqlo, New York.
|The pants: Jeans by William Rast for Target.|
|The shoes: “Top Winner” sneakers by Puma, from the Puma store in New York.|