Friday, March 6, 2009

Of Residing in Processed Tree Material

At lunch, a colleague informed us that she had just moved into a new place. We presented surprise and cheer at this notification.

"So," said another, "are you still living out of boxes?".

Everyone then laughed as she nodded sheepishly.

"Oh well," I said, "no harm done. Hell, I've been living in my place for seven years and I'm *still* living out of boxes."

Everyone laughed again. "Really?" said someone, now.

I surveyed the audience. "Actually," I began, "to be more precise, I actually live *inside* of a box."

"Ha ha, inside a box?"

"Yes," I replied. "I put some warm, clean sheets in there for lining, and when it is time for me to go to bed, I just crawl into the box, pull my comforter over me and go to sleep."

They laughed some more. "Surely," said one, "this must be a very large box, no? To accomodate a grown man thus?"

I shrugged. "It's a decent size. About, like, a small fridge. Refrigerator. About that size. It works fine."

A colleague leaned in. "Why would anyone make such a large box? I mean, I'm sure refrigerators don't come in boxes, do they?"

I stared at him with saucer like eyes. "Hmm. I'm not sure. They may come in boxes, but you are right - I'd imagine a refrigerator to be shipped more in something like a crate."

We all nodded together.

"Perhaps," I said, "well, perhaps this large box did not actually carry a large item - perhaps - " and they all looked intently at me, " - perhaps it was used to carry many *small* items."

There was silence in the room.

"Like packs of cuban cigars, or frozen psilocybins, maybe." I shrugged. "I don't really know."

Another friend drew his chair closer and patted my back. "It's ok. We don't really need to know *what* the box was used for, as long as you're happy living in it."

I nodded, and everyone laughed again. I peered at them. "That's not the worst thing though," I said.

"Oh, really? What's the worst thing, then?" said a few of them, collectively.

"The worst thing," I said, quietly, almost a whisper, almost a conspiracy, "that box, you know?"


"Lifted it off a homeless on the street, once, a long time ago."

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