Ted Wilson Reviews the World: My Potato Sack
Electric Lit relies on contributions from our readers to help make literature more exciting, relevant, and inclusive. Please support our work by becoming a member today, or making a one-time donation here.
★★★★☆ (4 out of 5)
Hello, and welcome to my week-by-week review of the world. Today I am reviewing my potato sack.
With the exception of potato farmers, these days almost no one wants a potato sack. And it’s exactly that lack of demand which has driven the price of potato sacks so far down that it’s economically irresponsible to not purchase one to wear as a shirt.
Admittedly, when I ordered my potato sack from the back of a magazine I thought I was ordering a potato snack. When it arrived I was pretty disappointed that I couldn’t eat it, but when I discovered that it was the perfect shape for disguising my lumpy torso, I was thrilled. To look at me in it, you wouldn’t know that I have small male breasts.
All my polo shirts literally went out the window. Then I had to go pick them up because they’d blown across into my neighbor’s yard and she was pretty angry about it. I suggested she might feel better if she wore my potato sack for a little while but she wasn’t interested. Now my polo shirts are in a bag in the front hall closet.
I don’t know a better sack than the potato sack. Not only has my potato sack been an awesome shirt, it’s also been an awesome pillow case. You’d think the rough, scratchy texture wouldn’t be very nice to lay your face against, and you’d be right. The potato sack as pillow case keeps me up all night, but it also prevents me from oversleeping. I haven’t missed a single episode of Good Morning America.
There’s one thing I could have done without regarding my potato sack, and that was all the bugs living in its fibers. I don’t know what kind of bugs they were. Are scabies a bug? They were everywhere, all over me. I’d be talking to Frank at the corner store and then he’d say, “There are bugs all over your face.” Then I’d start swiping at them in a panic and Frank would ask me to please leave. It was embarrassing.
Despite the bugs, my potato sack has brought me a lot of unexpected joy, and I think that’s what life is really about. In a way, my potato sack is why we all exist. Except we each have our own personal potato sack.
BEST FEATURE: It smells of potatoes no matter how many times I wash it.
WORST FEATURE: Everyone kept asking me questions about it and all the interest worried me someone might steal it in the middle of the night.
Please join me next week when I’ll be reviewing a wallaby burger.