Hey Spatula,
I have a bone to pick with you. Every time I try to open my newly minted kitchen drawer, I struggle because of you and it’s driving me crazy. All it takes is you, lodged in such a way that prevents the kitchen drawer from opening, to turn me into a rage-filled brute. I’m going to flip out. I used to be happy. I used to cheerfully make pancakes every morning for me and my wife before you brought hell into our kitchen. Just, once, let me open my drawer with ease. Why do you insist on not cooperating?
Do not test me again,
Chuck
Hey Chuck,
Thank you for voicing your concerns to me. Now, please allow me to voice mine. I hear you. But it’s not me that’s the issue. In fact, it’s you. You continue to put me back in the drawer in a way that prevents your precious storage unit from opening. Don’t put this on me, buddy. I already get blamed for the kitchen drawer not opening by the forks and the spoons, who incessantly ridicule me for my shape and size. They call me a waste of space and refer to me as nothing but an obstruction. Do you have any idea how that feels? No? Of course you don’t. You only think about yourself. Look, just please put me back the way I belong. It will be easier on both of us. And by the way, I miss being used to make your pancakes.
Yours truly,
Spatula
You flippin’ piece of plastic shit,
You’re trying to divert the blame onto me?! You keep getting in the way, you bastard. You’re the one that doesn’t behave. The forks and spoons are right. You are an obstruction. The can opener, the tongs, the steak knives. They all sit there peacefully and allow me to open the drawer without any struggle. The problem is you, my plastic little friend. You just sit there, lodged upwards in the front of the drawer, laughing at me and silently judging me. Get your act together and maybe, just maybe, I shall resume making pancakes.
Chuck
Hey Chuck,
First off, you need to chill out dude. Please don’t resort to name-calling. You’re better than that. This is supposed to be a collaborative effort. I help you flip those delicious cinnamon buttermilk crepes that you make so seamlessly. And you need to place me back into the drawer where I belong and how I belong: faced downwards, instead of lodged upwards, where I’m open to ridicule and torment by the other kitchen utensils. Then, I promise I won’t be in the way anymore. Are you sure this is just about the kitchen drawer? We’ve been friends for a long time now, ever since you bought me from Costco back in 2014. I’m here if you need to talk. Remember, we’re a team.
Catch you on the flipside,
Spatula
Hey Spatula,
Alright, alright. I’m sorry for the name-calling. I am on edge and I get easily frustrated. I think I’m going through a midlife crisis, but that’s a story for another time. You’re right, we are a team and let’s work together now to make some delicious pancakes….UGH! You’re getting in the drawer again! Fuck you, Spatula!
With the utmost hatred,
Chuck
Previously Published on Medium
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