My Dirty Iron and other musings

Being the cool cat that I am, on Monday night, I had a date with my iron.  I'm not going to lie, I have a dirty iron.  It's filthy.  It's just one of the many curses I have left over from an old relationship.  This relationship didn't run a smooth course and the ending was similarly tumultuous.  The last time I saw the lady in question, she was packaging and taking her things from our shared apartment in Manchester.  She packed in silence, which was fine by me.  Her packing was just as messy as how she lived.  After a tense 45 minutes, she picked up the last box and headed to the door.  That's when it happened.  She turned sharply (and most fetchingly, I must say), rested her box on her hip and opened her mouth.  Out it came; a torrent of insults, profanity and most importantly curses.  One of the more imaginative ones she came out with was stuck between a descriptive fiction of what I should do when she left and then a direct comparison of me and her new lover.

"And may your iron be filthy!"

And so it was.  I've got to say it was quite a shock the next time I used it.  It was a Sunday and I was sprucing up a shirt for work the next day.  As is usually the case after a break up, I had stuck Swingers into the DVD player.  All was normal.  I was chuckling at all the right points, getting through the shirts a bit quicker than usual, but nothing abnormal.  Then it happened.  There's a point in the film about 20-25 minutes in where Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau meet these two ladies in a bar.  They are two very pretty ladies, one of them is dressed like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.  So, I'm standing there, ironing, and then I hear it.

"Nice cans toots!"

At first I was too busy ironing to really acknowledge anything.  To be fair, I was on a roll.  One and a half shirts done in 20 minutes?  Unheard of.  In the zone.

"Oh what a world, what a world.  I'd like to show her my horse of a different colour, if you catch my drift."

I think that one got my attention just because of how baffling it was.  Really?  A horse of a different colour as a dick substitute?  So yeah, I was a bit concerned.  I put the iron to one side and went to investigate the house.  As soon as I left the room, another comment was made.  No Wizard of Oz puns this time, just utterances of things being stuck in places with a few f'bombs dropped for good measure.  I turned sharply, I stared down the iron, which remained silent.  I sighed.  Obviously the stresses of life had got to me.  I turned to head towards the couch.

"Yeah, keep walking pussy."

And it was at this point that I realised that my iron was filthy.

This was a shocking and troubling revelation.  What would the neighbours think?  I was having a dinner party on Saturday with friends from the gallery, what would they think?  Sure, it was kitschsy and they would love that, but I was trying to make my name with gorgeous landscapes, not pop art.  I did the only thing I could.  I threw it out of the window into a conveniently placed bin.

After a couple of weeks, the crumpled shirts were starting to pile up.  I popped to the store, came back home with a new iron (and a couple of fuses, plug adapters, balsa wood, a small zebra and four hot dogs, but I digress).  All was well at least for the first two shirts, then the insults started.

"Hey choirboy, what the fuck do you call that?"

"Way to wreck a shirt retard.  I wouldn't dress my cat in that!"

Damn, it got annoying.  I tried everything short of washing its mouth out with soap (yeah, irons don't have mouths, but I did scrub its sole pretty hard).  I eventually learnt to deal with it.  He's a good friend to watch shitty movies and sports with and when I moved abroad a couple of years ago, it was nice to have at least one constant with me.  Hell, there are worse curses I could have.  I knew a guy from Buffalo, real nice guy, worked with him on a couple of jobs.  He was cursed.  He hiccuped (and loudly too I might add) anytime anyone in his vicinity said "blackberry".  Wasn't too bad a few years ago, but man, is it making his life hell in the office these days.

-------------------------------
Other musings

Yes, I didn't have anything interesting to talk about, so I made up stuff.  Happy?  You drove me to it!  Like I know anything about ironing!

Last month was the most popular month for hits.  We've all done very well this month.  Let's keep up the effort and there may be bonuses discussed at the end of December.

Christmas Party tonight.  I will be in a tux.  This makes me happy.