My mother and I marched down into the murky depths of our basement, armed with our trusty vacuum cleaner which was, to be honest, not that trusty. If you want the whole truth, I hate the crap out of that vacuum cleaner.

The Kirby people called me to say we’d won a free carpet cleaning and I, being a sucker, said sure. I knew there would be some large man in an awful tie with his slacks pulled up to his nipples, trying to sell us anything he could, even if it were our own blender, or a passing cat.

And we got Bob. Bob was tall and skinny. Bob had a tweed suit and enormous teeth. Bob told corny jokes and tried to get my poor mother (made to bear the brunt of his demonstration) to give a passing poot about his children and the prize he’d win if we bought something from him. Bob was originally from Louisiana. Bob was really fond of the theme from Deliverance. Bob’s teeth were very, very large. And then he sold us The Most Useful And Efficient Vacuum Cleaner We Would Ever See In Our Lives, Ever! My mother got sucked in. It was enormous, and ugly, and it weighed a few Jabba The Huts. The number of bruises I’ve had from that vacuum is sickening.

I’ve hated its lint-filled guts ever since it appeared in my house, and ruined everything. I sit in bed at night when everyone else is asleep, knowing that it waits for me to sneak down for a glass of water.