the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: vacuum

Roomba: The Life of the Party


I hate to promote a product when I don’t get it for free, but Sophia and I got her mother, Fanya,  a Roomba for her birthday.  If you don’t know what a Roomba is, it is an automatic vacuuming robot.  You turn it on, it moves all over the room or the house vacuuming, and then it returns to its charging base when done, and even chirps a little "song." 

Last night was the birthday party at Fanya’s apartment for  family members and friends.  Tons of Russian food and drink were consumed, toasts raised, even a video of a famous Russian opera singer was watched.  But it was the Roomba that stole the show.  Most of the guests had never seen such a curious machine.  Actually, I had never seen a Roomba myself.  

When you first turn it on, you expect it to go back and forth in straight lines, vacuuming in an organized manner.  Instead it seems to just go randomly around the room, maneuvering under sofas, bumping into furniture along the way, reading the room and figuring out the lay of the land.  Because the Roomba travels around in such an unpredictable manner, it takes on the qualities of a awkward pet, like a lovable little puppy. 

Last night, as the Roomba roamed around the living room,  everyone started following behind it, as if a Conga line was forming.  The line only dispersed when the Roomba suddenly changed "his" mind and started cleaning in another direction.  Everyone laughed as the Roomba repeatedly knocked against the bedroom door until "he" finally pushed it open and went in to clean inside.  Fanya even started calling the robot from the kitchen, telling it in Russian to "Come over here and clean the kitchen floor."  And you know what — eventually, it did.

Roomba was the life of the party — and he didn’t even touch the vodka.

I’m not the only one in love with a Roomba.   This father uses a Roomba to get his kids to go to sleep.  This blogger even made a movie about his Roomba.

Does the Roomba actually vacuum well?  I have no idea.  But I think I might just get one to keep me company at night.

Cheap Thrills


When Sophia and I separated, we divvied things up the traditional way — she got most of the cool stuff we bought over the years and I got a new crappy "bachelor pad" in the city.   Luckily, we didn’t fight too much over the arrangement — except for one little matter — the constant battle over the ownership of our Dyson vacuum cleaner.  We bought it right before we separated.  And once I moved out, I refused to buy another vacuum cleaner after we had just spent 400 bucks on one. 

When Sophia first wanted to buy this fancy new Dyson machine, I was deadset against it.  I was brought up to always search for a bargain, not to spend tons of money on the top-of-the-line model.  Sophia always said I was too cheap and constantly repeated this Russian saying ( I think she just made it up herself):  "We are not rich enough to afford to buy crap."  But now that we bought it, I have to admit — this is the best vacuum cleaner ever.  It has tons of attachments, no "bag," and it is actually sort of fun to vacuum your floor with it. 

So for the last several months, the vacuum has been shuffled back and forth between our two homes. 

A few days ago, I wanted to vacuum my house after I spilled a box of Cheerios on my carpet.  I called Sophia, there was no answer, so I drove over to her place and took the vacuum without telling her.  Later that night, Sophia got mad at me, saying I should have asked her first or let her know that I was coming over. 

"What if I had a date in the house?"

This just got me mad.

"I paid for the vacuum.  Let your ‘date’ buy you a new vacuum."

She said I was a bean counter.  I countered with something nasty.  Before long, it turned into a heated fight.

The next day, I felt bad.  She was right.  I should have called first.  I shouldn’t have started the argument on the phone.  I called her up, apologized, and said I would bring over the vacuum.  I also said that I would take her out for dinner.

As I approached her home in Redondo Beach, I thought about getting Sophia some flowers.  If there was one lesson I learned in my marriage, it’s that flowers are the best way to apologize to a woman.   I pulled into the supermarket.  They didn’t seem to have much of a selection except for fall "harvest" bouquets consisting mostly of orange-dyed carnations.  I know Sophia hates carnations, especially painted ones.  I saw a bouquet of sunflowers.  Great!  Not only does Sophia love sunflowers, but the bouquet was on sale for 75% off.  The flowers did look a little tired, but $3.99 — what a deal!  I quickly bought the bouquet, and headed for Sophia’s. 

I rang Sophia’s doorbell.

"One second," she yelled.

Through the window, I could see that she was exercising in the living room. 

I looked down at the flowers, knowing she was going to love them. 

"Oops," I said to myself, as I saw that the 75% off sticker was still on the wrapper.

I quickly ripped off the sticker and stuck it on under my shirt as Sophia opened the door.

"Neilochka, flowers!"  Sophia said, beaming.  "Thank you." 

We kissed.  On the cheek.

"I’m starving.  Let me just take a quick shower and then we’ll go to dinner."

As she headed for the shower, I went to the upstairs computer to check my blog and see if I got any new comments.  Nothing, except for another pro-anorexia idiot saying something dumb on my "Too Skinny" post.

From next door, I could hear the water running in the shower.  I walked over to the bathroom and looked inside.  Sophia was behind the glass door, the water spraying down on her.  I could see the outline of her body, especially her sensual breasts as she soaped them up.  I watched as she ran her hand over her stomach and legs, then reached between her legs, the soapy water running down her thighs. 

Mesmerized, my animal instinct took over.  I ripped off my clothes, letting them fall to the floor.  I moved quickly to the glass door of the shower, and slid it open.  Sophia stood there, totally naked, one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen.   Her face showed surprise, but at the same time… I thought… anticipation. 

Every bit of sensation and feeling in my body quickly moved to my cock.  She looked down, her eyes widened and her face turned red.  For the first time in years I felt proud – she was looking at me like I was a real man again.  

But it wasn’t my growing erection that was making her so excited.  The sticker from the flowers somehow moved from my stomach and got stuck on the head of my penis.  And as my cock grew, the sticker spread out, making it easier for Sophia to read.

"75% off?  $3.99?!  Is that all your apology means to you?!  You never buy me flowers.  Now I get it.  $3.99 for a bouquet of flowers!  Could you be any cheaper?!"


But, alas… it was not to be.  My frugality bit me in the ass.  Well, actually you know where it bit me…

I left the Dyson vacuum cleaner in the garage and took my cock home, sticker intact. 

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