Random Acts of Boredom
I spend a fair amount of time on Craigslist in search of jobs and gigs. Sometimes I even browse around while I’m bored. On one recent occasion, I happened to find a post from someone who needed a fog machine for a film shoot. I couldn’t see any real point in doing it, but I had a fog machine and some spare time. A few people in my life offered mild admonishments and vague remarks of skepticism, believing that this act was a risk without any reward.
I do love my fog machine, and some of these people love it too. Like them, I would have been disappointed if someone had run off with it, but I just didn’t feel that that was going to happen. This was not because of some persistent faith in the good of man, nor was it motivated by some deep sense of generosity that I suddenly found within myself. I’m not really inclined to call myself an optimist; I’m generally just a jubilant cynic. I don’t think that I’m a particularly charitable individual either.
No, my man. There were two main factors in my decision to lend a fog machine to a random person. Well, there were three if one is inclined to include the fact that I own a fog machine. But the other ones were boredom and the fact that the dude who asked did not seem to be a very dishonest man.
After the shoot, the dude left town for a little while. He returned at some point towards the beginning of the week that’s just concluding as I write this. After a few false starts, we finally managed to meet again on Friday, and my fog machine was returned to me. I really didn't even have to go out of my way, for the meeting spot he suggested was right by the sandwich shop I was visiting anyway. Now the machine has replaced a broken toaster box in the role of my footrest.
Many have said that random acts of kindness will be rewarded, though this story does nothing to corroborate that assertion. However, I just wanted to note that random acts of boredom don’t always bring regret. Actually, I got to throw an old, dirty box out. I’m feeling pretty good about the whole thing.
Oh. And it was one extra thing that didn’t have to be moved out of my mother’s old house when she sold it. I just realised that. Solid times.
Anyway, the random Craigslist gentleman has my thanks for not being a jerk.
I always knew that you weren’t.
Best fog? London.