Hullo! I was totally gonna write about the Tom and Jerry movie this week. See, I was fascinated with it. Chloe Grace Moretz is in it and she’s a really good actor, right? So I figured that this had to be a secretly cool and smart Tom and Jerry jam. I used my purloined HBOMax password to watch it yesterday and it is decidedly not cool. Or smart.
I mean, it’s fine. It’d be ok to watch with the kids but it was not great. I’m not gonna spend a whole blog dunking on it though.
Instead I’m going to tell you a story about young Lynx & LeRoux. A prequel, lets say. Back in the day we both worked at a bookstore and it was pretty rad like 75% of the time. We worked at night and our whole deal was that we would work super hard and get everything done by 10 and then spend the hour before close patrolling for any sort of mischief that we could get up to. Sometimes that meant one of us (not me) doing whippets in the cafe, sometimes it meant playing elaborate pranks on coworkers. One particular night it meant ceiling repair.
There was this leak in the ceiling by the front registers and the tile underneath it was cartoonishly swollen. It was positively pregnant with captured condensation and we couldn’t take our eyes off of it. So we decided that it would be both fun and super helpful to release that water. For safety. The problem with that was, (and this will surprise literally no one), that we were reckless idiots. Of course, we’ve grown immeasurabley as people since then and now Ryanne prefers the label “moron” whilst I feel that “dumbass” fully captures the entire rainbow of my foolishness. I’m a DeVitto and a dumbass and I own that about myself.
We felt that a ladder was both cumbersome and inelegant so we decided that Ryanne should just stand on a grey rolling cart that I would steady with my masterful strength. Now, how to pierce the water logged heart of that tile? After several minutes of hysterical laughter we decided that we simply needed to liberate a knife from the cafe and attach it to the handle of a broom with 7000 yards of box tape. Thus we fashioned the most idiotic spear known to man and pushed the grey cart to the front. Meanwhile out manager, Shannon, pointedly ignored us and what the hell we were doing because she didn’t get paid enough to interfere with our tomfoolery.
So after several near disastrous attempts Rye was able to scramble onto the wobbly ass cart that I could in no way keep steady and I handed her our homemade spear. Then we both nodded sagely as she stabbed the hell out of that poor tile. Not much happened really, at least not at first. Then a tiny trickle of water seeped out and we were both just hella disappointed. Ryanne managed to hop off the moving cart without breaking her neck and then it happened.
The tile just disintegrated and exploded outward and directly onto us and the V.C. Andrews section. We were showered in tiny bits of wet plaster that was surely filled with mold. It was SO exciting though! There were more than flowers in the attic that night, I tell ya. After the elation faded though we realized that we had to clean it all up and trooped to the back with our spear like, “Shannon, the weirdest thing just happened. Somehow-through no fault of our own- the ceiling has exploded. :/”
And then we laughed uproariously as we wiped the gunk off of V.C and threw a tarp over the whole mess. And we just left the damned spear laying on the back counter for the morning shift to find.
That’s the kind of stuff I used to get up to on the daily and it’s really a wonder neither one of us was electrocuted. Or like, maybe Ryanne would have been electrocuted and then stabbed me with our spear as she tumbled off the cart. I don’t know. Things like that are why if you told 24 year old me that I would be pretty much the same at this age I would be both shocked and disappointed. Nevertheless, I was and remain pretty freaking fun. I think a movie about any number of our bookstore adventures would be more fun than Tom and Jerry, is what I’m trying to say. Until next time.