By: Saije Rusimovici, Staff Writer and C Icart, Humour Editor
Dear Peakie,
The other day, my friend asked me to close the blinds, revealing a very embarrassing truth about myself: I don’t know how blinds work. And can you blame me? Multiple cords are involved, and that stick thing that you twist, apparently??? Blinds are a medieval contraption I have yet to demystify. How do I hide my secret?
Sincerely,
Confused by Blinds
Dear Confused by Blinds,
This might signify that the time has come to pick up a tired but true skill necessary to spare you some embarrassment. You might be thinking, “Oh, Peakie, you’re so smart. Of course, you know how to close the blinds! It comes naturally to you!” And alas, reader, you are not wrong.
Nevertheless, my trials and tribulations are not important here. The next time you are home alone, you have to practice! Yank at the strings, pull at the blinds to manually open them if you must! See how they work by breaking down the mechanics one piece at a time.
And if all else fails, it might be time to invest in some curtains.
Warmly,
Peakie
Dear Peakie,
My sister used MY fork. I spent years walking through the IKEAs, Bed Bath and Beyonds, and Costcos of the world, looking for my ideal fork. It needed to be pointy enough, provide excellent mouthfeel, and double as a comb. Needless to say, it is one of my most treasured possessions. So, why did I come home to my sister sloppily stabbing her gnocchi with it?! She’s saying I’m overreacting, but you’re on my side, right?
Sincerely,
Get the Fork Away From My Utensils
Dear Get the Fork Away From My Utensils,
Ah, this letter impacts me on a personal level. Okay, pull yourself together, Peakie. I hate to go on about my own experiences when giving advice, but this hits too close to home. Oh, what the heck. I’ll tell you my story.
When I was a child, my younger brother would use my favourite cereal spoon in EVERYTHING. A spoon meant for CEREAL does not belong in a bowl of Kraft Dinner (did I mention I loathe Kraft Dinner?). The point is, you’ve got to protect what belongs to you. When I finally moved out, I purchased a special set of monogrammed utensils. I keep them in a locked safe where my roommates will never find them. As much as it pains me to eat with regular cutlery, it needs to be done so no one will discover my secret set.
Thinking of you,
Peakie
Dear Peakie,
I don’t need your advice; I need your help. Yesterday, I got ghosted by not one but TWO buses. I watched patiently as the minutes to the scheduled arrival of my bus went by on Apple Maps. With one minute left, I carefully took my U-Pass out of my wallet so it would be ready for that tapping action. But the bus never came, and I had to resort to old-school transportation technology: my legs. Will you meet me at my secret lab where we can work on top-secret teleportation technology, so I’m never stranded again?
Sincerely,
Teleporters Against TransLink
Dear Teleporters Against TransLink,
Unfortunately, I cannot meet you. It would be a violation of both my privacy and yours. I’m sure you can understand. But let’s think about this logically. Of course, you can’t Uber around this city economically, and with rising gas prices, it’s no surprise that taking transit is your best option. Hmm. Yes, well, I never thought I would say this, but I am a little stumped. Fortunately, having my own driver, I don’t need to worry about these things . . .
I hear those electric scooters are quite fashionable these days. It’s not quite a teleportation device, but you’ll be zooming down the mountain in no time! And, if you see the bus, you can scoot on right over to it! Gosh, I’m brilliant!
Don’t forget your helmet!
Best wishes,
Peakie
