.SOMETIMES RAW.

All sparkly in Riyadh’s Dipomatic District at a Conference Bathroom made out of gold.

WORKER: It’s 6:37 AM. Let’s begin hammering.

SECOND WORKER: Are we nailing anything in today?

WORKER: No, we’re just striking the bare, wooden and marble floors and walls with our hammers.

SECOND WORKER: I’ll turn on the handsaw as well.

WORKER: Great. Let it run by itself against that wall.

SECOND WORKER: How hard are we hammering today?

WORKER: Boss wants us to alternate between hammering with great force and exceptionally great force. We take breaks when the receptionists downstairs leave the building.

THIRD WORKER: Someone paged me about needing help?

WORKER: Yes, it is 6:38 AM and we need help.

THIRD WORKER: Don’t worry, my workers are currently charging up the stairs as if there were a fire. Each one is running up as loud and fast as possible baning against everything possible.

SECOND WORKER: Your men all work out in the gym everyday? They seem so strong! Look at all those muscles. With those they can hammer even louder and harder.

THIRD WORKER: And they never sleep. They can literally work all day and night.

WORKER: We will need help deadlifting these oil drums filled with marbles. And the chainsaws. We took all the chainsaws and hammers we could find.

THIRD WORKER: Where should they go?

WORKER: You can drop them right over everywhere. Make sure you are extra loud and bang against the floor.

THIRD WORKER: That should at least take six more days of hammering and slamming things against the wall.

SECOND WORKER: Great.

WORKER: Do you know the person in the hotel room next to our construction site?

THIRD WORKER: I have seen her. Some security officer. She doesn’t need sleep.

WORKER: God, I hope so. Because we are super loud and annoying. But she looks like she is in good shape. Was at the gym last evening. Let’s hammer more. She can handle it.

SECOND WORKER: Do you think we should tell her to change the room and that this construction will take some time?

THIRD WORKER: Ah, no. If she sleeps less, she will probably get up earlier and work out at the gym even more.

SECOND WORKER: Sleep is overrated anyway. Who needs sleep?

THIRD WORKER: I wonder if she is already up. Well, she will be now….

WORKER: Isn’t she also a writer? I overheard a conversation in the lobby.

SECOND WORKER: Jesus. Oh, of course she is. I overheard this as well. Walls are thin and have ears hahahahahahahahah.

THIRD WORKER: You know what? I think I hate her.

SECOND WORKER: Yes, me too.

WORKER: Me three.

THIRD WORKER: Let’s hammer forever.

via The New Yorker

“Thieves in balaclavas broke into Paris’ Louvre museum on Sunday morning, using a crane to smash an upstairs window, then stealing priceless objects from an area that houses the French crown jewels before escaping on motorbikes.” 
— Reuters

– – –

I am the best at what I do. I move with precision, each step a carefully choreographed ballet. I do not simply steal things like a common pickpocket; I perform. I create. I inspire.

But not before 9:30 a.m.

If I were to, say, steal the crown jewels from the Louvre, I would not get up at the crack of dawn to do it. Mais non! How could I be expected to perform my best work without a good night’s sleep? Heist days are long, and a sleepy thief is a grouchy thief. And what of my petit dejeuner? Am I to rappel from the roof of the museum’s jewel wing without having enjoyed my pain au chocolat? I may be a thief, but I am not an animal.

In France, we pride ourselves on enjoying life’s simple pleasures: food, drink, and the occasional grand larceny. To rush through these things would not just disrupt our leisurely schedule; it would be a sin. One must savor the moment, not run from robbery to robbery like a buffoon.

My typical heist morning routine goes like this: wake at leisure, cigarette, croissant and cafe au lait, read a chapter of Voltaire, stroll along the Seine, browse the Paris flea market, THEN robbery. Eliminating any one of those activities would sap the pleasure from my day, making me no better than those fools and amateurs from Ocean’s Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen….

And that’s not even taking union rules into account. According to union bylaws, jewel thieves are to begin work no earlier than 9 a.m. and finish no later than 1 p.m. We have a strict ten-hour work week, overtime for weekends, and paid leave for polishing and jewelry dismantling. Years ago, the government attempted to raise the retirement age to forty-five, prompting us to go on strike for weeks until they caved. It may sound strange for the government to negotiate with robbers, but trust me, they need us for the intrigue.

I have read of other cat burglars who work in the dead of night, and all I can tell you is they are not French. Miss a night of passionate lovemaking to steal some jewels that will still be there the next morning at a reasonable hour? C’est impossible! As exquisite as the curve of a perfectly cut diamond is, it will never compare with the curve of your lover’s back. Besides, life is too short to get caught up in the rat race. At some point, you have to realize that blindly chasing down jewels takes you nowhere, except maybe prison if you’re an amateur. Your life has to be about more than just your work.

But, as with every industry, technology is threatening to take my job away as well. No one wants to pay for centuries-old diamonds anymore, what with 3D-printed versions available at a fraction of the cost. Quelle dommage! It makes my blood boil to think that people cannot see the difference between a piece of plastic and a sapphire tiara worn by Marie Antoinette. But this new generation wants only the quick and easy, not the exquisite. My work is becoming a lost art, along with all those pieces of lost art I stole.

C’est la vie. In the meantime, I will enjoy myself for as long as I can as the last of a dying breed of hardworking—but not too hardworking—thieves. A ragtag troupe of misfits, off on one last caper to knock the bumbling inspecteur off his guard as he shakes his fist at us while we zip away on our mopeds.

So, I bought this amazing SMEG coffee machine a couple of months ago. This is what the instruction manual said:

Welcome to your new high-end Italian espresso machine. Or should we say buongiorno? Yes, we should. Your espresso machine only speaks Italian. To get the most out of the machine, you must learn the language.

We will wait.

FOURTEEN MONTHS LATER.

Remove the machine from the box. Carefully. You want to make a good first impression. Use a firm, yet gentle grip to establish trust. Too weak a grip, and your high-end Italian espresso machine will never respect you.

Important safeguard: Don’t film an unboxing video. Your espresso machine is wary about having a social media presence. Between you and me, it held some questionable beliefs during WWII and doesn’t want the public to uncover it.

Your Italian espresso machine is perfect for daily use; however, please keep in mind that the machine demands time off to rest, so daily use doesn’t really “work” for it.

To set your machine up, find the area of your house with the best lighting. We know the kitchen will be the most convenient, but this isn’t about you. This is about getting the best extraction, and your Italian espresso machine will feel self-conscious if it thinks the sunlight in your breakfast nook is hitting its metal in the wrong way. If you want your machine to function properly or even at all, get a professional photographer-grade light meter and wave it around your house like it’s a smudging stick.

Plug it in.

Now that your espresso machine is set up, check on its emotional well-being. Is it comfortable? How would it describe its feelings? Is the sunlight too direct? Ask if it feels as if it can produce today.

We’ll save you the trouble: It will say it cannot produce today. Try again tomorrow.

A DAY LATER.

Your high-end Italian espresso machine is now ready for use.

Fill the tank with water. Use bottled water. Never tap. Never filtered. Please refer to the “approved bottled water brands” list at the end of this instruction manual (see: Italian espresso machine rider). If you use a brand it doesn’t like, the machine will be able to detect it and will shut down.

Grind the espresso beans into the provided coffee filter basket.

Throw out the ground espresso beans. Reevaluate your coffee choices. Really take your time. Go on a journey. Come back when you’ve purchased beans that can live up to the high standards of your high-end Italian espresso machine.

THREE WEEKS LATER.

If your high-end Italian espresso machine is on its phone when you try to use it, don’t be alarmed. It’s chatting with its cousin. Please wait for the machine to finish its call before you attempt to use it. You may be tempted to eavesdrop now that you are fluent in Italian, but this is a personal call, so please respect the machine’s privacy.

If you must know, they’re discussing where the cuff of a polo shirt should fall to best showcase a bicep.

Select one shot or two shots. Please know that your machine will dispense how much it feels like, regardless of your selection.

If your machine is reluctant to perform, play the Shia LaBeouf “you can do it” video for motivation. Your high-end Italian espresso machine hasn’t seen it yet, despite being a huge fan of Shia LaBeouf. Again, it makes excellent espresso—so we can forgive its support of problematic actors or former dictators.

Eventually, your high-end Italian espresso machine will produce espresso. It might be in five minutes. It might be at midnight. It might never be. But it will come. Unless it doesn’t.

THREE YEARS LATER.

Your high-end Italian espresso machine demands cleaning every two months. You have missed eighteen cleanings. Cleaning is simple, provided you’ve mastered the machine’s seventy-two-step process, seven of which have three steps in and of themselves.

Please note that these instructions may change at any time without warning. Your machine will not let you know, but if you screw up, it will turn off and never work again. Also, it will leak, but don’t worry, you cannot fix it since there is no way to open it. Usually, it is just one simple plastic tube that clogs. Don’t bother calling or emailing the store where you bought it. They won’t help. You have to send the machine to Italy. You won’t receive a replacement machine. We are sorry. This is how we roll at SMEG.

Enjoy.

All I wanted was an easy-to-operate coffee machine for whole coffee beans. Simple buttons, simple instructions, simple cleaning functions. Why is this so difficult?