Safe Tea First!

In ‘The Grapes of Wrath’ Steinbeck had some of the character refer to the Oakies by the derogatory slang term, “Shit-heels”. Many believed that the term signified that the Oakies were of agrarian background and had been, as farmers have doing since the beginning, clomping through meadows and stables, putting both feet squarely in the profit! But the term carries a slightly more slanderous overtone. It refers to a being so culturally and economically backward that, having neither porcelain seat nor worn pine board to ease his morning ablutions, he has to squat. Small inaccuracies of aim are then inevitable, lacking hind sight. Did I mention earlier that I had no porcelain amenities?

Yes, I have abandoned my friends at the Super 8 and am once again, back where I belong; living on the streets. It feels like home! Don’t get me wrong! The Super 8 is a fine facility. It’s just that I never did enjoy hotel; they are handy but expensive, convenient but oh so impersonal. It all started with the fact that there was no coffee maker in the room. The coffee provided in the lobby for clients was ....well ....I wouldn’t want to step into it either! So, when the urge hit, I’d have to throw on a jacket, go down four floors, march across the Husky parking lot, and bring back ‘trucker brew’. But man does not live java alone, and, by Saturday night I was ready for a cup of tea!

That was the straw, (or tea leaf if you prefer!), that broke the camel’s back. I set out to brew a cup of tea. I’m almost embarrassed to tell you that it didn’t turn out as well as expected. The goal itself was attainable, but the means of attaining it scant. I have a tin coffee perk in the van which I use to make coffee or tea for myself and my bride on the gas burner when we’re camping. Unfortunately, there’s no heat source in the room! But wait....I’m not always as look as I stupid! I remembered then that when I’d arrived, and hung up my jacket in the closet, I’d noticed the micro-wave bolted to the floor!

It had struck me as odd at the time! What kind of desperate criminal would try to steal a $50.00 micro wave? It wouldn’t happen in Ontario! But, let’s not be hasty to judge my new province ....they must have had their reasons. The goal now was in sight. I just had to go down to the Trek and bring back Tea bags, and a real porcelain cup. Eureka! Off I went happily, and was soon back again just as happily. Now, let’s see ....the recipe, if I remember correctly, is fill cup with water, Ok! Now, place the cup in micro and bring to a boil. I hadn’t really scoped out the mic yet, but as I knelt before it I marvelled at its sturdiness; “they sure know how to make them!” I thought in wonder. It was small, you couldn’t have gotten more than 4 tea cups in it, but ....one was all I needed!

It’s not pleasant to admit that at almost 50, with all the hi-tack toys Julie insists on piling upon me, that I’m still trying to figure out micro waves. But please understand, it was dark, it was in a closet, I was on my knees, and I’m half blind! Eager with anticipation I placed the cup, closed that impossibly heavy door, and began to press buttons. Nothing happened! Indeed, nothing happened for quite a while, and I feel it safe to assure you that, if I ventured back there now, nothing would still be happening! I’d just locked my best ....no! ....my only teacup, in a vault!

Time to resort to the big guns. In the Trek we do have a drip brewer; but it’s clunky, huge, and requires ac current to use ....therefore, it seldom is used. I headed down four flights to retrieve it, stopping for a mament to explain to the front desk. He blinked at me solemnly and enquired, “You have a micro wave in your room? “No! No!” I insisted, “I have a safe in my room, ....but I can’t make Tea in it!!” With that I zipped out the door, nipped into the van, and, within 45 seconds tripped back through the main entrance, drip in hand. Both clerks were staring at me. They’d obviously been deep in conversation, ....a conversation I’d just interrupted. “Sir?,” the more authoritarian clerk blinked at me solemnly, “you were trying to make Tea in the safe?” The blinking continued un-abated. “No”, I replied, “I was trying to make Tea in a micro wave.” “However”, I continued, striving for a firm, level tone, “When you have an hour or two to spare, you might come up and help me figure the safe’s combination! “ My cup is in it, and I want it back!”

So, there you have it. I’m now back in my van. I can make a cup of whenever I choose. True, it steams the windows completely, but let those truckers think what they wish! It is snug and homey. The only real problem I can see is the gas ring. There’s nothing complicated about these, but its tight quarters; lots of stuff hanging everywhere, and all kinds of things to trip over; accidents can happen. But, as I told you earlier, flame is my element. And the name Mackay itself means “Son of, (a bitch! I just set myself on), Fire!

Next time I’ll bring a cook!

James T. Mackay