Dusk Through Narrow Streets

I’m not exactly what you’d call a great cook. In fact I basically don’t do it at all, which means that while I’m probably not I-know-how-to-burn-water bad, I really haven’t the first idea what I’m doing. I can make fried or scrambled eggs, grilled cheese sandwiches, and things that come in packages. The peak of my cooking experience is pretty much macaroni and cheese from a box, which barely counts because the directions are right there.

My dad got me several boxes of it from the Lakenheath BX when he was here. It’s a US Air Force base, so they sell American stuff. I used up my last box a few days ago and figured I could get more–not a big deal but it is awfully convenient.

Well, I’ve been to…five supermarkets, I think? Not a one of them seems to carry boxed macaroni and cheese. It’s just rather odd; I sort of thought it was…well, not just an American thing.

I first came across  the term “boot,” as in “the awful thing put on cars when they’ve had too many parking tickets, or something, that means you can’t drive until you pay,” in a TV show and was thoroughly confused. I’d never heard of the device before and didn’t understand why the character was so upset: even if he had a lot of fines, why did that mean he couldn’t drive his car? It might’ve helped if they’d actually showed the thing, but whatever the case, I didn’t figure out until much later that a “boot” meant a thing affixed to one tire that physically kept the car from moving.

I have no idea why the term “boot” is used for that. The thing that goes on a person’s foot is only tangentially related to a thing that goes on a car tire.

Over here they call it a wheel clamp. Now doesn’t that make so much more sense?