Open the trunk, open the trunk, open the trunk.
If you want, I’ll try to come by, we can open the trunk together. It’ll be a dopfest/trunkfest/Hoffafest.
My husband. He’s a real asset to our marriage. I know, because every once in a while I say, “Look at that ass setting over there…”
Almost 10 years ago my husband asked me out for a special date by taping dangling hearts from the ceiling in the living room. There were several dozen up there. I eventually took down the hearts several months after the date (I liked them and thought it was sweet.) However, the tape that held them up is still stuck on my ceiling. Every once in a while someone asks me why there’s tape on my ceiling.
Someday I’ll take it down. It’s about time to paint the ceiling anyway.
Open the trunk! Open the trunk!
I’m reminded of the “There is Evil in My Cooler” thread from years back.
I find this incredibly fasinating and endearing.
I’ve never heard of bacon and lettuce soup. Where was this apartment?
There’s a plastic storage box full of CD’s under my coffee table. I keep meaning to finish the project I started of removing the jewel cases and storing the CD’s in books that I bought and are sitting neatly empty on a shelf. It’s been a year and a half.
A long time ago I had a Toyota Corolla. There was a crazy Cicada season with those damn Cicadas everywhere. One ended up wedged between the dash and windshield on the driver’s side. It wouldn’t have been hard to remove, but I just left it there. Lookin’ at me every time I unlocked the car. It was still there when I sold it.
Under my desk in my cubicle at work, I still have manuals for some hardware and software I used on a project I worked on over ten years ago, including a box full of manuals for the “Borland C++ for OS/2” compiler. I’ve just never gotten around to throwing them in the trash.
It doesn’t sound terribly appetizing, does it? There’s a reason I never opened it.
The apartment was in Jamaica Plain, MA. Some friends lived there for a couple of years before I moved in, but I doubt that any of them bought it. I bet that it was there on the last day of construction.
When I bought my car in 2004, there was a June bug lodged inside one of the vents. I left it there, basically just to see how long it would last. It was still there when I sold the car in 2009.
Last March, someone bought my husband a gift that was tied with a pretty wire-free ribbon. I wrapped the ribbon around my wrist, just fiddling around. I finally cut it off last week because it got caught on something and tore. People were always asking me what it “meant,” and I really enjoyed making up stories about how it was a tribute to my great-aunt’s battle with such-and-such exotic disease. But mostly, I just left it like that.
I leave a lot of things like that. Sometimes I have nightmares that I forgot to break up with my boyfriend from high school, and he’s still waiting for me to call.
Ha! Okay. I’ll open the trunk. It’ll probably be boring, though, and I’ve kind of been enjoying the mystery of not knowing.
Um, I’m also afraid of attics, which is why I haven’t opened it before.
Seriously. The trunk.
You clearly have no idea what you’ve done by mentioning this to us; just ask Cicero. The one trait that brings us all to the Dope and keeps us here is curiousity. We are here precisely because we. must. know.
Now what is your plan for getting this trunk open?
I know what you mean.
I moved into my townhouse four months ago, and I’ve still got several boxes that I haven’t made any effort to unpack.
Until last week, there was a red solo cup and a piece of junk mail sitting on one of my living room shelves from an unsuccessful attempt to catch a moth a few months ago.
There are about half a dozen loose screws on the floor of my unfinished basement laundry room that I might pick up. Some day.
Keep the trunk locked, Pandora!
A couple thousand LPs. Oh yeah, “someday” I’ll convert them, but it hasn’t happened yet in 25 years.
And my mother’s clothing. She’s been dead for over 6 years.
On the day my roommate moved into my spare bedroom, he stacked 4-5 boxes in the middle of his room temporarily. It’s been three years and those boxes are still temporarily there.
This is why I haven’t opened it yet. It might not even have anything in it, and then I’ll be disappointed. It is heavy, but it’s also a heavily built trunk, so that doesn’t mean it’s full of things.
I assume a screwdriver and a hammer will take care of the lock though, since it’s not padlocked. It’s only locked with the built-in one.
There’s a rolling pin in my office closet.
I don’t know why it’s there; it was there when I started this job and the lady who had the job before me didn’t know why it was there, either.
I figure if I ever get a really ornery customer I can just whip that baby out and KABONG!
Man, I’d have picked the lock on that trunk ages ago, because I wouldn’t be able to stand not knowing. Of course it would probably be empty or full of boring stuff so I’d end up feeling like Geraldo after he broke into Al Capone’s vault.
Hey TDN, this trunk’s not mine…
But that being said it definately needs to be opened ASAP!! 
When I moved (in 2008) one of the things I took off the refrigerator was a coupon for Domino’s Pizza that expired in 1992. I did not file it with my collection of refrigerator art, nor did I try to use it (2 medium pizzas 2 toppings $8). But I’m pretty sure that between 1992 and 2008 I took everything off the fridge to wipe it down and then put stuff back on, apparently without sorting through it, or at least without doing so with any sort of critical eye.
I have boxes of things in the garage that have not been unpacked in 30 years, and my husband has boxes of things that have not been unpacked since before we were married. I know what’s in some of them (my childhood horse figurine collection, my father’s Spike Jones 78s) but not all of them.