dead cord

I thought I’d left the long hot nights of power outages behind me when I moved. I could not – did not – anticipate my computer power cord dying a sudden quiet death. I stared at it in horror for a few days, then finally rolled it into a ball and took it to the store.

I was not the poorest looking person in the store. There was a girl with dirty hair and ripped flip flops, a new mom with hair that was obviously not magenta on purpose, and an old man who opened his wallet to reveal it was empty, except for a debit card. Are all of you going to spend your food money too? I wondered, watching them.

The guy assigned to me, all smiles and hair gel, took a brief look at the cord, nodded to himself, and brought a new box. He opened the box and handed me the new cord. “Product recall,” he said. “You’re all set.” I thanked him and got the hell out of there, grocery money intact.

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