Request for Importation
Day 313 – May 30, 2012
I came across two items today that I would like to see become mainstream in the United States.
Non-Standard Disclaimer: If either or both of these phenomena are common in the everyday experience of the average person living in the United States, I offer my humblest apologies and can only mumble some excuse that I don’t get out enough.
One) Drop Off and Dry
At a traffic light, in addition to the various street performers showing off and trying to earn an extra nuevo sole, companies hire people to hand out flyers, brochures, and other commercial literature. On this particular morning, my lovely wife and I were handed the following:
It’s an advertisement for a dry cleaning outfit but what I love about this flyer is that it shows a woman dropping off a shirt into an automated machine of some sort.
What a genius idea! No longer would I have to actually engage in some sort of human-to-human interaction when depositing my wrinkly shirts. I can now simply leave my pants that need pressing in a booth and depart secure in the knowledge that all will be taken care of.
No word, according to this picture, if I would still have to walk into the store and chat with someone to retrieve my clothes once they’re done, but I guess modern technology can’t solve everything at this moment.
For my money, I’ll take drop-off dry cleaning over personal jet-packs any day.
Two) Shedding Tears Over a Dead Battery
Our gardener, G, who has to have some of the worst luck for anybody I know (but those are stories for another day), had to stop working on our lawn today so that he could have his car fixed. His battery died and so he had called some friends of his to help him jump-start his car. When his amigos arrived, there was a flurry of conversation – none of which I understood – but it was obvious something was amiss.
G came over to me and asked me if I had a crocodile.
Hard to believe, but I replied in the negative. Caimans, gars, and even a gavial we have, but nary a crocodile to be found in our household.
A beat (and a forehead slap) later, I realized G was asking if I had any jumper cables.
What a genius slang term for jumper cables! Made sense when I thought about it that “crocodile” is an excellent name for those red and black wires that chomp onto to the anodes and help give your car battery juice. It also has fewer syllable than “jumper cables”.
I don’t know what governmental department or Internet website I need to go to to petition that the people of the United States start using the term “crocodile” in lieu of “jumper cables”, but that’s my next errand as soon as I drop off my dry cleaning in the automatic booth.