My Creative Mojo

Our microwave has been making some weird sounds lately and although it still seems to cook okay, I wonder if it’s leaking some type of brain altering waves that will turn me into a mutant. And since it takes forever to cook a frozen entree, it’s time to get a new microwave. One with more power and all the cool modern features that I’ll probably never use because out of habit, I only press the one-minute-button repeatedly and ignore everything else, including the owner’s manual.

I probably have time if I leave now. A quick trip to Target and I browse the models on display. I want the most powerful model. It gets so hot in the summer time that I can’t use the oven and have to cook entire meals in the microwave. Fast is good, faster is even bettter. Oh, here we go! A Panasonic family size 1.2 cu. ft. microwave oven with inverter technology. I have no idea what inverter technology is, but it sounds cool. 1300 watts, boo-yah! That should dry out a dinner roll in two seconds flat. Sold!

I race home, excited to set it up, which turns out to be a bigger ordeal than I imagined. Our old microwave sits on a heavy cabinet and the plug is buried far behind it. Unload the cabinet, remove the wine, glasses, all the miscellaneous crap that we stuffed into the drawers, and still it’s difficult to move. Unplug the old microwave, set it aside, unbox the new microwave, plug it in, move the cabinet back, put all the wine back. Done.

Time to heat up some food and enjoy the new appliance.
I open the door to put the glass carousel tray inside.
Heeeeey. What’s this?
Little bits of food all over the sides and top of the microwave. Did they do their Q&A testing without a dish cover over the food?

It sets in. Eww. That’s someone else’s food.
It’s not brand new. Someone used my microwave, exploded some food in it and returned it. And if that’s not bad enough, Target accepted the return without inspection and put it back on the shelf.

Damnit! I don’t want to clean what should be a brand new microwave. This is an injustice! How could they do this to me?

I reason with myself. It’s just some food. I can clean it off and then it will be as good as new…
And then I counter my reasoning. But I shouldn’t have to clean it. I deserve a new microwave. One that is actually new.

That settles it. I’d rather drive back to the store and return it rather than wash it.
I call Target to ensure they have another one in stock. They don’t, but they refer me to a different store across town. Way across town. This is going to take awhile.

Melissa might get home before me and want something to eat, so I go through the whole routine of moving the cabinet again and swapping the old microwave back.

Race across town, return microwave, swap for a new one, yada-yada. Jump ahead to getting home with the new microwave. This time it better be 100% new. I open the box. The plastic wrapped around it is pristine. The power cord is wrapped perfectly in a tight coil and held together with twist ties. I untie it and swing it around like a lasso, celebrating the fact that it’s new and hasn’t been unboxed by anyone else before me. I remove the tissue paper from the inside of the door — it’s crisp. I check the inside for bits of food — none!

I take a deep breath and smell the inside of the microwave. It has a wonderful new microwave smell, that chemical plastic-ey industrial type smell that tells me this is indeed brand new. And then it makes me think, “I should probably wash this thing before using it.” Maaaaaan, that’s exactly what I didn’t want to do.