Midterms are quite possibly the most unnecessary form of stress in collegiate life, and after a slew of midterms last week, my roommate and I found ourselves sitting in our living room looking for some way to relax. With no better idea in mind, we turned on the TV to the best 30 minutes of escapism available. We figured that as long as no one walked in on us, it was probably the best way to spend the afternoon.
But then we heard the door open and our other roommate come home.
""Mary, we have to change the channel. She can't walk in here and see us like this,"" I said, adjusting my blankets.
""But what are we supposed to flip the channel to?"" she whispered back.
We exchanged worried glances as the thumping steps drew nearer and nearer.
""I don't know, maybe ‘Tyra'? ‘Reba' reruns?""
""Oh, because those are both so much better,"" she sneered.
""They might at least preserve our dignity!""
""‘Tyra' doesn't preserve anyone's dignity. It whittles it away like those bad knives that can't cut tomatoes.""
""We're going to get caught! She's going to know that we sat here, sing—""
It was too late. The door opened and she saw us, sprawled out on couches, wrapped up in blankets and a look of disgust crept across her face. I could tell immediately that she was shocked, appalled and sickened to have discovered our dirty little secret.
""Have you guys spent the entire afternoon watching music collection CD infomercials?""
We nodded sheepishly.
At least she didn't walk in on us singing along to the Time Life ""Treasury of Christmas.""
This wasn't the first time I'd been caught watching infomercials. My mom walked in on me and a friend in mid-phone call to the distributors of the wonderfully groovy ""'60s Superstars"" collection—Davy Jones had been the featured celebrity and if he said it was good, then it must be great. Her timing prevented us from ordering in the next 19 minutes to get a free ""One-hit Wonders"" CD and therefore rendered the deal useless.
Before that, it was ""'80s Power Ballads""—I had nearly convinced my roommate that yes, we could not find all those hits in one place anywhere else and we would definitely waste time and money searching for all those great songs. There was a brief window of 15 minutes when a copy of ""Malt Shop Memories"" seemed like a good idea, what with all the memories that come flooding back when you turn on the CD. And I've secretly been coveting a copy of ""Lifetime of Romance"" since the sixth grade.
And even before a Time Life ad ever seduced me, there was the Super Shammy (the absorption power was unparalleled), Chef Tony's Miracle Blade knives (slicing tomatoes and tin cans is really hard with my current knife set) and the Jack LaLanne Power Juicer (until I figured out how much five easy installments of $39.99 actually amounts to). And I'm still waiting for a promised Christmas present of the ultimate party machine, the Magic Bullet (but only if it comes with the Magic blender attachment).
