That Dancing Machine
The washing machine was agitated, or rather shaking violently, rocking erratically during the spin cycle. It waltzed itself across the laundry room and wedged the door closed. No one was getting in. The machine had left the door ajar just enough so the human could see that this was deliberate.
What we had here was a very upset laundry appliance, perhaps over worked and under appreciated. It seemingly mustered its energy into an act of defiance, not realizing that blocking out the human who dumped dirty clothing into its orifice negated its reason for existence.
The human was prevented from entering. No amount of pushing against the door succeeded in opening the door. There was no way to pry the door unshut. The human thought of desperate measures, such as getting a chain saw and cutting through the door, climbing through the hole and man handling the bulky machine out of the way. It would mean finding someone with a chainsaw and buying a replacement door.
Too bad it wasn't a question of unlocking the door with a key, at least a literal key. Perhaps there was another way, a figurative restitution to the situation. She dialed her metaphysical counselor, who gave her this advice:
"Put your face up to the door and whisper to the washing machine that you are going to the nearest laundromat. Pull the door shut and pretend to walk away. If you say it with the correct inflection, the washing machine will probably walk back to where it is supposed to be. We all have a need to be valued and serve a satisfying purpose. Even a washing machine has needs".
The human tried this suggestion. Then looked for the chain saw.
Comments
Post a Comment