Voice treatments. That explains a lot. She has the eeriest voice. When she was talking about melons, it sounded like she was talking about "mmmeallinz." I got home from work yesterday, arms laden with the groceries I'd just picked up, and set about the task of putting away the dishes I washed the night before. I turned around to put some bowls in the bowl/plate/coffee mug cabinet only to realize that the cabinet was no longer there. The following figure illustrates the usual arrangment of my kitchen: In the cabinet's place was a cabinet-shaped patch of yellowed paint from paintjobs past, a screw hole where once there was a cabinet-attaching screw, and a giant gouge in the wall. I looked around puzzled and found the cabinet resting neatly on the floor, flush against one of my kitchen counters, like so: I opened the cabinet to discover that all my dishes were still inside, all in their proper places. Whomever removed the cabinet from the wall must have done so with all the dishes inside (rendering the cabinet inhumanly heavy) and without managing to move or break a single item. I sat down for a while and came up with some possible explanations. First fearing that I had been victimized by some treacherous cabinet-moving criminal outfit, I walked around the apartment making sure expensive electronics were in their proper places. I also checked closets and under-furniture-spaces for scary knife-wielding men who might be considering the relative merits of slicing me to bits. Worst case scenario ruled out, I called the landlady, the reigning theory being that one of her toolbelt-clad henchmen had been up to something in my apartment. The landlady had no idea what I was talking about, and it quickly became clear that she thought I was completely crackers. On and on like this for 10 minutes, after which I called her head fix-it guy (equally befuddled, but promised to reinstall it within 24 hours). Next I called my dad. I didn't really expect him to solve the mystery, but I figured he might have some insight. After all, heavy things made of wood (like cabinetry) fall squarely into Dad Territory. Dad: Are you sure it didn't just fall off the wall? Finally, at 10:00, Melinda called to quell my insanity. Melinda has a key to my apartment. Melinda (who's a teacher and thusly has summers off work) came over earlier in the day to play with my computer. She looked up and noticed that the Wandering Cabinet was sticking out of the wall at a 45 degree angle. She quickly deduced that something was amiss. In order to get the cabinet off the wall, however, she had to unload the dishes. Then pull the cabinet down. Then move the cabinet. Then load all the dishes back into the cabinet. Which explains a lot. I thanked her for not allowing my semi-decent ceramic dinner plates to come crashing down atop cats. We then had a brief discussion entitled "When You Extract Cabinetry From Your Friend's Wall, Leave a Note of Explanation."
Her: Whaddya mean the cabinet moved?
Me: It's detatched from the wall and it's on the other side of the room.
Her: Well then it must have fell off the wall.
Me: No. There's no way that could have happened. (see figures 'a' and 'b', above)
Her: And your dishes are fine?
Me: Yes. Completely.
Her: Uhhhm. Wellll... Are you sure it couldn't have fallen off the wall?
Me: ARRRGGGGHHH!!!! Yeah, Dad. Clearly that's what happened. The cabinet yanked its own screws, shimmied down the wall, mosied on over to the other side of the kitchen, made a 90 degree turn, and backed itself up against the counter.
Dad: Maybe you have a ghost.
posted by Kate at 4:31 PM link/comments
