Smashed Glass Table

My friends and I have well and truly messed up. We went away over the weekend to this really nice house in regional Victoria, and all got a little bit rowdy. We didn’t throw a party or anything against the house guidelines, but the twenty of us in the one house having drinks may as well be a party within itself. It was a really fun weekend and nothing went wrong, up until the last hour that we were there. 

With one hour to go, my friend smashed the glass table top by knocking the rubbish bag full of empty bottles into it. It was an absolute disaster. Things were going so well. We had just completely cleaned the house and it was all perfect. There was no trace of our misdoings, only for the table top to be ruined in the last hour. We desperately needed to somehow pull off a glass repair within the next hour or we would be screwed. Obviously, achieving that proved virtually impossible, and therefore we got caught. 

Rightfully so, the owner of the home we stayed at was fuming. I mean, it’s not like it was a whole glass balustrade or anything, but it turned out that the table was a family heirloom. This was obviously devastating for them, but it was a questionable decision on their part to put a family heirloom in a home they rent out to random people. As expected, we were responsible for sourcing and paying for a glazier. Close to Melbourne, that would have been more manageable, but out in the country it was a bit of a challenge. That, however, was the price we had to pay for our misdeeds. Fair enough.

I must admit that I do feel really bad about what went down. None of us went to the house with the intention of breaking anything, but I guess it was bound to happen due to how careless we are. I don’t think we’ll be invited back any time soon.

Sad at Everything

You know, being good at everything isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sure, at first it’s great. You’re a jack of all trades, basically a walking Mary Sue. Got issues with your plumbing? Great, you can fix it yourself. Bored and want a book to read? Just write one! When your gifts are kept private it’s great.

It’s when people realise that you’re good at literally anything that the trouble starts. My life these days is basically just giving favours. I had a friend call me last night and ask if I could help him with some glass repair. What was I supposed to say? “Nah, don’t really feel like it, Todd.” So I spent my night helping him repair a glass balustrade for free. There’s this incredibly heavy weight upon me to help everybody who asks.

Every few days I get a call from my mother, asking me to fix her shower. If I suggest she get a plumber, she kindly points out that she would have to pay a plumber. Apparently I’m only good for free labour, so you know, life’s just swell. Then there’s my brother, needing me to make his sandwiches, because I “just make them better”. Give me a break. Todd, can’t you just get a professional who fixes glass balustrades near the Melbourne CBD? I live like two hours away.

There are other downsides to being good at everything. Video games, for example, aren’t that fun for me. There’s no challenge. I boot up Spinning Bandicoot That Looks More Like a Fox and get the Iridium Relics (which most people don’t even know about) on my first attempt. I play Shout of Obligation on the hardest difficulty and don’t die once. I don’t even take damage!

Point is, if you’re bad at something, you should be grateful. What I wouldn’t give to be awful at just one thing in my life.