Q-Tipsy

While driving to Kat's new apartment, Kat called to make an odd request. On the chance I hadn't left yet, Kat wanted me to bring a q-tip. I laughed aloud because that seems a little anal retentive, and I told eir so. I'm not even sure that I had any q-tips to bring since I tend to use either a finger or a wet washcloth because I'm eco-friendly and/or cheap. I went so far as to say that I was glad that I had already left so that I could not fulfill this ridiculous request.

Being the nice person that ey is, Andrew, who received the same question on his way to Kat's house, stopped to purchase q-tips. Not only for Kat, but two additional bags for Cecilia and me as well. Apparently, you can buy a thousand q-tips for a dollar. In an instant, I went from someone who didn't own a q-tip to someone who had a lifetime supply. Honestly, the very idea frightens me; it's a commitment to an eternity of clean ears that I'm not sure I'm ready to accept. Gracious for the gift, however, I opened the bag and took a swab at it. It was nice. Simultaneously, Kat was devouring q-tips (aurally, not orally, but those are homophones!) I let eir use mine seeing as having so many was practically a burden for me. There was discernable satisfaction on eir face as ey used one, which leads me to believe that Kat is mentally ill. Over the next five minutes, Kat used six q-tips: it was actually impossible for eir to be in the presence of a q-tip and not use it. Though eir ears were clearly clean, Kat couldn't help it; I suppose it's better than shooting up.

I noticed on the bag that there was a warning not to insert q-tips into the ear canal. Kat explained that this was because you shouldn't shove things in there as it can cause damage to your hearing. No one ever told me that before! Now I feel like Andrew recklessly gifted me a loaded weapon. As it turns out, Kat's step-parent is an audiologist, so Kat is routinely lectured on not overdoing it with the q-tips. There is amazing irony in the fact that the one person I know with an addiction to q-tips is the same person with a family member that is overly concerned with ear care. Since teaching, I've witnessed people find some interesting ways to rebel against their parents, but this method might take the cake. I can just picture Kat's parent now, muttering about teenagers are all going to become deaf with their "damned rock music and q-tips."

Oh, and next time you need a q-tip (or a hundred, even), please ask. (In making this offer, I realize that Kat will be the one to actually ask when ey burns through eir stash by tomorrow.) More importantly, I'm going to be cautious of any favors I ask of Andrew in the future in case it always comes thousand-fold. For example, while a gallon of milk would be a kind gesture, a thousand gallons would probably make me cry, even if un-spilt.