This is the sixth post in The Big Swap. Originally posted on Posterous, which has since been shut down.
There’s the email I got from a Mrs. Wingding or something, supposedly living in the Midwest on “Oaktop Avenue”. She offered to take my desk in exchange for a really cute little bear she had just received. I don’t want to sound suspicious, but her email address contained a name that was the same as my aunt’s name, who was involved in Teddy’s swap. I don’t wanna be a conspiracy theorist, but there’s something fishy going on there. Is my innocent aunt kidnapping midget teddy bears and selling them on the black market under an assumed name? I guess we’ll never know.
Then there was the offer of Cash. The rules of the contest make accepting payment for an item illegal, but in this case I would’ve been okay, because Cash wasn’t a stack of Bennys. Cash is a horse. That’s right – a horse! These are the friends who offered me dirty socks for my piano playing. I really, REALLY wanted to make this trade. It seemed so possible, and such an awesome story I couldn’t pass it up. Unfortunately, he was an old horse, with the horse version of arthritis. Turns out, nobody wants him. I feel very sorry for Cash, and hope he finds a good home where he can live out his final days in relative relaxation.
While all this goes on, I continue to function as a normal human being – working, eating, sleeping and talking to myself. The Neon returned to her compliant self on Saturday after I spent some quality time with her, but by Monday she had forgotten all about the lessons learned and started complaining again. She currently is making strange thumping sounds: it seems to be coming from my air conditioning pulley, but I don’t know why. Despite the fine tropical weather recently (I think it even got above freezing one day) I haven’t used my A/C much, so why it would do what it’s doing is beyond me. Since I’m no mechanic, I’ve tried my never-fail technique: ignore the problem and hope it goes away. So far it’s worked well: the car is still running, and I’m still ignoring the noise as best I can.
As I type this paragraph, it’s changing from Friday to Saturday. The weekend is officially here, folks, and you know what that means: it’s time to start thinking about great things. Big things, little things, detailed things, old things, vintage things, valuable things, unusual things… If you come up with something that hits me right, you’ll have a gorgeous oak desk on your hands …the desk is gone. Go to the home page to see the most recent post and find out what’s up for trade next.
While you’re doing your creative thinking, I’m going to get back to the exact opposite task – not thinking at all. It’s tax time, and I’ve got problems to figure out. Good luck with your end; I’ll definitely need it on mine.
Editor’s note: This was written at midnight by a narcoleptic; thus, there’s no guarantee it’s understandable or even readable. We’ll probably come back later and fix any glaring errors. In the meantime, just read it like you were dreaming. Maybe you could close your eyes while you try it.