My vacuum, Hoover, is dying a slow horrible death. For a long time I knew it was sick but ignored the symptoms. Loose plastic bit on the lever that switches it from bare floor to shag rug mode. (Does anybody still have shag rugs?) High whining noise from the motor. Listing to one side.
My husband conducted a diagnostic survey of Hoover’s innards. He tells me, authoritatively, that its whosit is cracked and has become, sadly, irreparably disconnected from its whatsit.
Today poor Hoover coughed and gasped as it valiantly sucked debris off my floor. I’m starting to feel a little panicky. Clearly Hoover’s death is imminent, but with three cats, two children, and one furiously shedding rabbit, I cannot be vacuumless.
I dread shopping for such things. There are too many choices, and you know, for sure, that some of the models work beautifully, some are worthless, and there is no way to tell which is which. So I can’t just go to Costco or Sears and buy a machine. Research must be done. Consumer Reports must be consulted. Prices must be compared, and features selected. There’s even a robot vacuum that sucks debris all by itself.
Then I read Xanga’s Featured Question:
If you won $100 million (tax free), how would you spend it?
That’s it! If I won 100 mill, I wouldn’t have to buy a vacuum!
But wait. How exactly does one make the transition from a not-rich person who needs a vacuum to a filthy stinking rich person who, wait, still needs a vacuum? Surely rich people have floor debris too, don’t they?
Yeah, they live in big ole mansions that scream I have more than I deserve, and they have servants who clean the floors, but how long does it take to set that up? You don’t just check your lottery numbers, snap your fingers, and find yourself in Beverly Hillbilly land.
Buying a mansion is hard work, as is selling the puny dump you currently inhabit. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t unload this house if no vacuuming happened before the prospective buyers showed up.
The mansion needs a vacuum too, perhaps one for each floor. Who buys them? Do rich people hire vacuum buyers? Wouldn’t it be easier to shop for a vacuum than to advertise and interview potential vacuum-buying help? It’s hard enough to find someone reliable to come to your house and use the vacuum. Buying the equipment requires greater skill. They have to be able to consult Consumer Reports.
I guess filthy stinking rich people have house managers of some kind. They don’t call them butlers anymore, do they? Those people must be very hard to hire. It’s a big responsibility. You wouldn’t want just anyone managing your mansion.
So I think I would have to buy a vacuum before I hired a mansion manager. The bunny is going to keep shedding whether I win the lottery or not. If I let it go too long we will be ankle-deep in fur. I would take my new vacuum with me when we moved into the mansion. That would be one less purchase for the mansion manager to worry about.
So the answer to the question is, if I won 100 million dollars, I would buy a kick-ass vacuum. Maybe one of the ones on TV that sucks up a bowling ball. I’m worth it.