The Toaster Story

Today, all I wanted was a warm piece of buttered toast, and because that’s all I wanted, I wanted it to be the best warm buttered toast possible; made with only the finest toast making ingredients, and cooked in the finest toasting appliance ever made …so I went down to my local Gigantic Boxo-Mart Store and bought the best, most expensive stainless steel Oster® name brand toaster they had on the shelf. Then, leaving all the lesser toasters behind, I headed to the checkout counter.

Standing in line I could almost smell my toast toasting ...melting butter dripping ..soft peanut butter oozing. “Oh?! Yes debit, no, no cash back. I'll put it in the bag myself, thank you.” Off to the car I ran. With little Oster® safely in the passenger seat next to me we drove home. Making nearly every traffic light along the way, I reveled in my good fortune, and was soon pulling into my driveway. Through the gate, up the walk, into the house we went.

The peanut butter jar greeted me from across the kitchen, “Is that the new toaster?” it asked. “Yes,” I replied as I carefully cut through the double layer of packaging tape and removed it from its box. “Bring it over here,” the peanut butter said, “I want to have a look at it.” We both agreed it was the finest toaster we’d ever seen. Placing it carefully between the blender and the coffee maker, I plugged it in. Fighting to get to the front of the loaf, the bread slices were jostling for position as I untwisted the wire tie to free them from their plastic sleeve. Although the heel protested, the second and third slice were selected to go first.

My whole day had come down to this moment. “Ready?” I said. “Ready!” said the bread. I pressed down on the lever, plunging the bread into the depths of the hot wired cavern that would soon transform their cold limp forms into hot butter-melting masterpieces! I let go of the lever and ….up sprang the bread. I pressed it down again, and again, but the bread would not stay down! What kind of hell is this!? I picked up the shiny new Oster® and shook it. Something rattled inside. I turned it upside down, and along with two slices of not even slightly warm bread a piece of broken white plastic fell out. A piece of white plastic who’s only job in the world was to hold my bread down!

But there it lay on the counter along with two pieces of bread and some crumbs. White crumbs! Hey, I’m making wheat toast here! My thoughts began to rush! Backward through the day my mind flew. Then forward it sped until …STOP! …I could see the clues boldly italicized before my very eyes: White crumbs! double layer of tape! Those Gigantic Boxo-Mart Store bastards!

This piece of junk Oster® toaster had already been returned once by some sorry white toast shopper, and they just taped it back up and threw it back on the shelf! Now I can’t stop the rapid decline of Western Civilization, but I can help you cope with it with this simple warning: If you’re at the Gigantic Boxo-Mart Store and the item you want to purchase has two layers of packaging tape on it, don’t frickin buy it!