Granted, as time goes by and cynicism - that's adulthood for you an me - slowly seeps in, the disappointments do seem to come a little further apart and the shock of finding that your head actually won't explode if you hold back a sneeze is a little more easy to bear. Hey, stay with me, there's actually a point to this whole long-winded story and it's coming up any time now!
So, today another of my childhood (and adulthood, for that matter) illusions went bust. Yay. The other day the lock of our safe (where we keep all of our booty, aaarrrr) here at work went all ballistic and wouldn't open, much to our dismay. Locked out of our own safe, we had to call in a locksmith (no, they're not found under "safe-crackers" in the yellow pages) to open the damn thing for us. Now, having never seen a locksmith in action, I was a bit excited as the guy appeared with his bag of tools: I immediately pictured him in silent concentration in front of the safe, stethoscope in place, carefully turning the dial listening for that gratifying "click".
Can you imagine my disappointment when the guy opens his bag, and pulls out a big-ass electric drill?! Dude, what the hell? Where's the finesse? The sophistication? The elegance? Why didn't TV tell me that opening a safe requires a dozen large power-tools, brute force and most of all a bloody great deal of time?! Yeah, the guy went at the steel mammoth for a good three hours with his assortment of power-tools before the thing opened up.
I'm so depressed now.
