There she is. The sleak HOKY 23T natural bristle brush sweeper.
Ever since I’ve moved into my new place, which has all wood floors, I’ve been coveting the HOKY. I have a few rugs that are too big for shakin’. They need the HOKY! No need to plug it in. No usless, quixotic apertures. Nay - the HOKY despises these!
It takes me back to the summer of 95’ when I was waiting tables at a Big Boy in Ohio. sigh The efficiency with which the HOKY picked up odd carrot bits and stray olives from around the salad bar was something to be admired.
But how can I, a poor wench, afford such a luxurious divice? I’m still trying to squeeze a few more drops of blood from my stone check book in order to pay the IRS in April. Ah, me. Perhaps in May the coveted HOKY will be mine.