A Desk Lamp

About two weeks ago. A desk lamp, a quite cool one, I think, pink, with a handy height adjustment feature that if you don't use it gives it a very, for lame lack of a more specific word, "designer" feel. (Any help here, AT?) If this lamp were any other colour, I'd keep it, which isn't to say that I have a problem with pink, as my favourite shirt I own is pink (I paid $5 for it in the summer at a yard sale a few blocks away, which is $5 more than I'm used to paying for clothes I just happen upon in this here the West End). But I happen to know of a young woman, who may or may not read this blog, who wants a lamp for Christmas, who I'm going to give it to. Unless you reading this want to make a case for it for yourself ... Honestly, I wish I'd thought of looking for Christmas presents From The Grey Box (TM) much earlier in the year. Would this have made me just clever, or just cheap, or both? The answer is: an bozo. True story: I meant to type "a bozo", which would have been the joke right there, i.e. neither clever nor cheap, really, but really, "an bozo" gets the point across so much better than I ever could have hoped that there it is. Thanks, grey box.

* I forgot to mention that whoever left this in the grey box did so knowing full well that the little metal thread that you screw the light bulb into was all bent out of shape. I managed to fix with with a pair of pliers. But still. The grey box is where you leave stuff you no longer want for other people who want it. It's not a place to leave broken stuff. I wonder if the same person who left this is the same person who done left the iPod shuffle that didn't work. A little respect for the grey box, please.