Please, dear reader, forgive the apparent repitition of the first part of this entry. I composed the first part on a computer in a University computer lab, and the computer's owner needed it for more important dissertation research before I was able to finish. I now offer it in its entirety.
I'm beginning to think that my girlfriend's electric toothbrushes are possessed.
About 5 months ago, Girlfriend S. saw an ad for the Cybersonic Toothbrush and decided to get one. So, one delightful Saturday afternoon, we decide to march on over to our local franchise of the "three B's" home housewares chain (that isn't your name, but it is their initials) and bought one. I tried it. It looked cool, but, using it felt weird. It did, however, clean teeth and tongue like nobody's business.
Fast forward about two months. After around 8 weeks of regular use and commutes between my place and hers on weekends, the Cybersonic toothbrush suddenly died in its charger on my bathroom vanity. It manifested no usual symptoms; it was working perfectly at bed time and somehow decided to become an "ex-toothbrush" overnight.
Some negotiation followed. Girlfriend S. had either lost or already thrown out the sales slip for the "ex-toothbrush". So, upon returning to the "three B's" franchise, she was told that she should contact the manufacturer. The manufacturer, to their enormous credit, did not disappoint. They sent Girlfriend S. a new Cybersonic toothbrush. All seemed well in the electric toothbrush kingdom.
Things took a decidedly bad turn at about 11:30pm last night. Girlfriend S. was staying over for the weekend and we both decided to turn in at about 10:30pm in anticipation of a very early start to the following day. About an hour into hour pleasant slumbers (yes, we are, no doubt, doddering old fogies for turning in at 10:30 on a Friday night), we were both suddenly awakened by a loud buzzing noise in the area of the bathroom vanity in my apartment.
Somehow the Cybersonic toothbrush had decided it to turn itself on. Moreover, it was now possessed by dark forces and would not SHUT OFF. Shaking it would not work. Pushing the power button would not work. Using a screwdriver in a doomed attempt to pry apart the toothbrush at any viable seams in its construction (there weren't any) would not work. Swearing at it using every profanity in my considerably educated lexicon would not work.
After considering my options, I decided to leave it out on the balcony of my apartment. I live in relative proximity to a major highway and the buzz would easily be drowned out by passing cars (so as not to offend the neighbors). The balcony of my apartment is also relatively fireproof, allowing for the remote possibility that Satan's electric toothbrush should decide to burn itself up in a toxic dance of death. Dance also turned out to be the correct word describing the destruction of the toothbrush -- when I stood it up on my balcony it began spinning slowly around like some mad dental dervish in slow motion.
We discovered the icing on the cake of this whole experience the following morning -- the whirling vibrations of the toothbrush actually left a small ring on the faux-concrete floor of my balcony.
Needless to say, we will not be buying another Cybersonic toothbrush (I have a Braun that seems quite reliable) or recommending it to anyone else.
on 2003-05-04 at 3:38 p.m.
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