Tue 21 Nov 2006
This evening I returned from an event at the university and made a beeline for my tumbler. My tumbler is about 12 inches tall and plastic and purple and, as legend (in my mind) has it, indestructible. I could use it in an afternoon game of “kick the cup” with several 12-year-olds and it would still be in good enough shape to drink a quenching draught of lemonade from afterward. When I accidentally knock it off of a tabletop, it bounces dramatically, with a range of three or four noises depending which part of the cup hits and how much liquid is still in it. Everyone has to stop and wait for it to quit hogging the limelight.
This is a near-ideal tumbler. It has a little texture so it doesn’t slip from my grip; it is big enough that I can gulp as much as I want and then, a few minutes later, still have several good sips left in the bottom. I fill it up with water about three times a day and set it down somewhere I can keep an eye on it, in case I get thirsty. Whenever the diswasher gets loaded up, I just throw it in there for a little germ-killing session.
Up until today, my main problem with the tumbler has been that Dr. G. keeps swiping it for his own use, even though he has one identical in every detail except color– they came from the same clearance bin, even. I swipe his too, so it mostly works out. When you want a drink of water, it’s just easiest to grab the nearest apparently clean receptacle. However, it is dismaying to reach for your trusty water tumbler and find that it has a crust of milk or coffee in the bottom. In such cases, I usurp Dr.G’s water tumbler indefinitely and watch it like a hawk so it stays in my possession.
Now milk and coffee are the least of my problems. This evening, I went to take a swig from the half-full cup, and something dark and bobbing caught my eye as my mouth filled with water. I couldn’t make it out, what with the evening shadows gathering inside my gargantuan tumbler. I set it back on the counter and peered in. A soggy, motionless gray moth. A big one. Its feelers wobbled in the waves of backwash as I spit out my mouthful of water. Euuurrrrrgggggghhhh! Eau de moth! Down the garbage disposal it went.
Hey, here comes Dr. G. with a big purple cup. He is swishing water around in his mouth. Hey, did you wash that cup before you filled it, Dr. G?