Remembering the Past

If you are a regular reader, you will know that on November 1, as I was having breakfast in Munich, I dropped an entire cup of tea on my netbook keyboard. This was not any ordinary tea either. It was Grippe Akut, an herbal mix for colds that looks like it is meant to scare the germs right out of your system. It was that darkish purply-red that you imagine a vampire would have if they didn’t wipe their mouth on their coat sleeve.

At first I blamed myself for the misadventure, but after thinking about it, I am blaming the teacup industry. There is nothing in the gender studies manuals that say that tea is only for dainty little fingers or hands. Yet the teacup saucer we were provided barely extended beyond the rip of the cup, making it difficult for manly hands to grapple with. Well, I do have slender hands, a contradiction to the rest of me, but even I was barely able to hold the saucer with so little to grab onto. As I was moving it from one side to the other, vroom, and the cup did a swan dive right on the keyboard. With napkins at hand, I soaked them to within a fiber of their existence.
 
It seemed I was going to be in the market for a new netbook, but after six days of letting it dry out, the keyboard finally starting function properly. Until then, the information it produced could have provided me with a nifty side career as a code transmitter. Too bad the Cold War is over, but maybe I could contract with cheating spouses.

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