Vac Attack

Posted by Petra, Staff Writer

When I feel frazzled or tense, there's one thing that I know will instantly lift my spirits: vacuuming. I realize this makes me weird. Many a roommate has told me so. I think it has to do with being half Dutch (we're a tidy people) and the fact that it's such an instant-gratification activity. Just plug in and whoosh away all the dust and scuzz and fuzz and even small insects you feel bad smooshing. Gone! Clean! Fluffy rugs! Yeah!

So when the Roomba came out, you know I was skeptical. Much like the electric can-opener, it left me saying, "Why?" Why did we need to invent a rinky-dink piece of electronic junk to do this simple task? Especially when it's a simple task I enjoy. But the Roomba had the nerve to zoom its way all up into my world. Last year, my boyfriend Marc bought the Discovery model for his parents, who swiftly regifted it back in utter confusion ("but that's what we pay the cleaning lady for!").

Rather than return it, my gadget junkie welcomed the Roomba into his studio like a new pet, setting up a virtual wall so it wouldn't become trapped under the bed, and training it to find its charging station. The first weeks were full of emotional highs and lows. We'd come home from dinner to find that the Roomba had eaten a stray washcloth and subsequently passed out in the middle of the floor. Or Marc would call to excitedly report that "the Roomba made it back to base!"

OK, so the little guy had his charms: no more tumbleweed clusters of my hair blowing across the floors, no dust bunnies hiding under the sofa. Periodic go-rounds with the regular vac were still a must, to get into corners and crannies, but the place seemed pretty dang clean, even by Dutch standards. When I recently came across Apartment Therapy's Roomba survey, I was pleased to see that others are equally enamored with the contraption.

I now live in the studio with Marc, and the Roomba. But we haven't been dispatching it as often -- perhaps because manual vacuuming helps me maintain my sanity while sharing 450 square feet. And thanks to my small friends Olive and Penny, who moved in with me, there's of plenty crap (seeds, feathers, bits of vegetable) to clean up. However, I tend to shun Marc's mom-vacuum (you know, the canister style, kind of a drag) for my rad lil' Euro-Pro Shark.

My mom impulse-purchased this from the Home Shopping Network amidst claims of suction powerful enough to lift a bowling ball. I can't vouch for that, but I'll confirm that it sucks big time, in the best possible sense. You can clean a whole (Manhattan-sized) room with it, and it's so inexpensive ($30) and fits in a kitchen drawer. That said, flashier cleaning paraphernalia, like Dyson's new Slim and Stowaway models, does catch my eye from time to time.

So fascinating to look at, but in a sort of pornographic way; when it comes down to it, I want no part of them. But who knows, maybe if I tested one I'd find it worth the cash ($500ish ... that would have to be one intense vacuuming session). I watched GeekSugar's recent Slim vs. Roomba battle with interest. But it primarily left me thinking: Who's the vacuum-obsessed weirdo now?

Comments

[Joe]

The name "Discovery" is very appropriate also, seeing as Roomba makes bold discoveries under couches worldwide.