This is a true story, names and places have been changed, to protect Gerald.
So last Saturday I was sitting on the couch catching up on "I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here" when a man knocked on my door. He was holding one of those massive pink and blue stripey bags you get from a dollar store and it was full of stuff. He also had a brand new looking box that contained some kind of appliance I had never seen before.
"Here is Cindy's stuff" he said and he abruptly plonked the massive bag and box on my door step, with a cheeky smirk on his face. He looked visibly relieved, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he walked back to his SUV where his wife was standing by the passenger door, arms folded, slowly nodding her head at me as if to say: "This shit is your problem now bitch." She patted him on the back and they got in the car and drove off, tyres screeching.
I didn't say a word to them.
Cindy is a mate who moved back to Sydney nearly 2 years ago now. She had sent me a text a few days ago saying something about "Can a mate drop off some of my stuff at your house, I don't know what it is, probably mostly crap but there's an expensive robot my parents gave me and they'll be pissed if it ends up in the bin." I laughed about a grown woman owning a "robot".
That's what was in the box. This guy. I named him Gerald:
I love staring in to Gerald's big beautiful eye, because I can see myself.
I charged Gerald up, pushed start and watched in amazement as this little fucker swept and vacuumed every inch of floor in my house, under beds, under the couch, everywhere. After an hour he stopped and said "Please empty my dust tray." He had nice manners, so I emptied it AND IT WAS FULL. He then set off and kept sucking up dirt that was invisible to the naked eye. An hour later his dust tray was FULL AGAIN.
Oh Gerald you dirty bastard!
When he got tired he went back to his base and charged up and then a few hours later he went off to work again.
Every time I empty Gerald's dust tray it's like winning Lotto, look at all this beach sand, pistacchio shells, dust, lego, hair clips and god knows what other shit this is he's sucked up. And he just keeps working.
It is honestly like having the slave I've always wanted but I was too politically correct to get. I am the most politically correct cu*t you've ever met.
I looked online and saw that brand new Gerald costs $1000. I've offered Cindy money for him and to send her some of her books and stuff but she's gone silent, she doesn't care about Gerald or her bag of crap, so I'm not going to push the issue. He has a new home now.
Gerald literally landed on my doorstep and he's changed my life. If you ever get the chance to get a top of the line floor cleaning robot (and crucially your house is all one level with no steps anywhere) - you will have a clean floor at all times. Which is something I've only ever dreamed about because I live with a 2 year old child and a fully grown monkey boy man-child.
I think Gerald and I were meant to be together. I really hope Cindy doesn't read these emails coz she could seriously name her price. I'm never letting him go.
Have a nice day.