Toaster Problems

Sorry for lack of posting recently. I finished my exams a week ago and thought I would have more time to write but I was a very busy bee...

... until my toaster broke.

Anyone that knows me will understand what a massive catastrophe this was.

A couple of days ago my friends and I went out on the raz / lash / pull / graft etc. (i.e. we frequented Liverpool after dark) and there's nothing that I like better after a late night than some golden brown buttery goodness the next morning. So this is what I had.

After deciding that three pieces of toast was not nearly enough, I got out some more bread. (Granary for the win) I placed my plate carefully on the surface nearest to the toaster to reduce the wafting and therefore cooling of the toast. I readied my knife in the butter next to my plate in order to optimise melt capacity. I was all set. I got out the bread and slotted it into my beautiful four-slotted beast. I set the dial to 2/7 because burnt toast is for losers and people who don't understand the beauty of the world. I did one last check of my preparations and pushed the lever down...

... all the electricity in my house switched off.

No joke.

The trip switch had done its irritating job of ensuring everyone's safety because the fuse in my toaster had blown. My dad went to reset the trip switch and everything returned to relative normality.

I think this was when I began the experiencing The Five Stages of Grief because I was completely in denial of the fact that my beautiful appliance had broken. I pushed down the lever on the toaster again and...

... all the electricity in my house switched off... again.

By this point, my dad, brother and friend were understandably getting annoyed at me as dad lumbered off to do the trip switch again.

My friend remembered we could do toast on the grill in the oven but this is when the second stage of grief kicked in - anger. I was FUMING (angry) that I would have to subject my bread to the ugly burn lines of the oven grill and I became even more worked up when I realised I wouldn't be able to get my bagels to remain soft on the outside but toasted on the inside if I used my oven. Nope, I was not happy.

Then boom. Next came bargaining. I went back over to the toaster and used the extent of my scientific knowledge to unplug it and plug it again. I even fiddled with the wire at the back. It couldn't be broken, not after all the good times and the bad times I'd shared with it. Maybe we could swap the wires with the microwave. Surely something could save it. But alas, no.

This is when waves of depression washed over me like the Mersey on a stormy day. What was I going to do without my beloved and trusted appliance? What would we do with the breadcrumbs it had meticulously been collecting in the tray at the bottom for years? I couldn't imagine finding another toaster like it. This was the end of an era... a warm, toasted, buttery era.

It was only yesterday morning that I finally gained acceptance of what had happened. Mum and dad, realising that I couldn't cope for long in this limbo state with no proper toast, rushed out to Costco and I woke up to find a new chrome machine placed precisely where my old friend had been. It was a gut-wrenching moment but it was inevitable.

I know one day I'll look back at all the fond memories I've shared with my old toaster, but at the moment it's still too raw... like my bread. I haven't been able to bring myself to use the new toaster yet even though I understand this day will come soon.

But until that day,

RIP my old faithful toaster, you've served me well. I hope you're having fun in that great kitchen in the sky.

Keep toasting.

x

That's all for now, folks.