The people that designed bagless vacuum cleaners
never cleaned my house. Yes, I'm grateful Terry
bought a new one while I was working on the ship,
BUT, I don't want to see the dirt,
let alone think about where it came from.
I miss my Eureka BOSS. It was comforting to pat the bag,
like you would a baby diaper and think,
"All full, time to go."
It was a happy shock to open my closet
for the first time to clean the rugs
after working on the cruise ship
and finding a brand new vacuum cleaner.
My BOSS had broken six months before
I deployed and I had been using an electric broom.
That only took six hours to clean our small house!
So I vacuumed the first time with this new-fangled
vacuum cleaner with a clear plastic canister.
It was like watching a train wreck.
I was repulsed and thrilled at the same time.
More repulsed than thrilled seeing the dirt
come swirling around as I progressed
through the house.
The next three times I vacuumed,
I was liking being able to see
the results of my efforts.
And then yesterday,
I had had it.
While emptying the canister,
which reminds me of a blender but instead
of getting a fluffy margarita I'm getting dirt,
I hit the wall of revulsion.
I imagined all the teenagers stomping through
the house in their giant size thirteen shoes,
and where the shoes might have been,
and decided this new machine has got to go.
If I'm not getting a fluffy margarita
from the canister,
I'm going back to bags!
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