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True Story - De File
Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
True Story
Kim spent the evening laboring in the bathroom. Now there's orange everywhere. I'd say she's at least 70% done. And the results are impressive. It glows like the abstract cityscape that my Aunt Susie painted, the one that both disturbed and compelled me as a child.

At one point, Kim came out to ask where the S.O.S soap pads were. She wanted one. I accepted the mission and proceeded to the cabinet in the garage.

There I pondered whether to bring two -- my inclination is always to excess -- or the one she had requested.

"If I bring her one," I thought, "I'll no doubt need to bring her a second one later."

"But if I bring her two," I reconsidered, "she'll probably upbraid me for not honoring her request to the letter."

I decided to extract two pads from the box in the back of the cabinet. One I left in the front of the cabinet, easier of access than before. The second I brought into the house.

Kim was in the bathroom.

I debated whether to hand her the pad myself or not.

"If I give it to her personally," I reflected, "it might seem like I'm trying too hard."

I opted to leave the pad on the corner of the kitchen island, in clear view of anyone coming out of the hall by the bathroom.

On second thought, however, I concluded that the placement might not be obvious enough.

So I subtly nudged the S.O.S pad over to the very edge of the counter, with nearly half of it overhanging.

But then I reconsidered again, and moved it back a bit so that only 30% or so was overhanging.

Kim found it right away.

An hour later, I was summoned to bring a second SOS pad. This time I handed it to her myself.

Mode: latexified
Muse: the pounding in my head

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