Chamomile / Story of My Life – Calvin Westra
August 21, 2025
The problem with the microwave was it would set fire out of nowhere. You had to unplug it when you were done using it.
Hector would forget.
Will would wake up to “the…sound of flames.” He would send texts to Hector asking him to please remember to unplug the microwave when he wasn’t using it.
Hector still forgot.
“My bed is two rooms away,” Will said.
“Yeah,” Hector said.
“Your couch is so much closer,” Will said and then, “There are two walls separating my room from the microwave.”
“True,” Hector said.
“The kitchen wall and the bedroom wall,” Will said and then, “Whereas you are right there,” and then, “In the immediate vicinity of a microwave that is on fire.”
“I don’t really hear flames,” Hector said. He said he wasn’t even sure flames made a sound.
“The sound of sparking,” Will said.
“Right, true,” Hector said.
“Crackling sounds,” Will said.
“I don’t hear them at all,” Hector said. He said he was sorry. He’d do a better job of unplugging it.
We can assume Hector didn’t do a better job of unplugging it because they kept having text message conversations about the microwave and how Hector needed to remember to unplug it every few days until 7:34 pm on Tuesday, January 19, 2010, when Will said he had “solved the microwave problem.”
Will said the solution was Hector should ask his girlfriend.
“Nice,” Hector said.
And then she could solve it for them. She’d know of a “protective nog” or something.
“Nice,” Hector said. He said she wasn’t technically his girlfriend. And she might not know about microwaves.
“I’m not suggesting she swing by with a wrench,” Will said. He said to ask about nogs.
“Is nog a real word?” Hector said.
“Eggnog for example,” Will said.
“Okay, sure,” Hector said. He said eggnog was “a pretty classic nog.”
Will said his bus was arriving at work soon. He couldn’t text much longer but would Hector at least ask? Maybe there was some easy solution.
Maybe there was a nog.
“There might not be a microwave nog,” Hector said.
“Why are you so reluctant to ask?” Will said.
“I’m just unsure about phrasing,” Hector said and then, “It’s a strange thing to ask,” and then, “To ask if there’s a nog or something for microwaves.”
“You’re extremely reluctant,” Will said. He said this was exactly the type of shit Hector said when he didn’t plan on doing something.
“There might not be any nogs for home appliances,” Hector said and then, “How would I even phrase this?” and then, “It’s a strange request.”
“You ask unnecessary questions about things,” Will said and then, “This,” and then, “You do this when you don’t want to do something.”
“I am debating my phrasing choices,” Hector said. He said moth girl might not have experience with home appliances.
“You just need to ask,” Will said and then, “You’re surely already texting her, yeah?” and then, “Seeing as you’re always texting her.”
So Hector texted moth girl, who he was in fact already texting, and who wanted her jaw “crush[ed]…into dust.”
Hector told her that was fine. He had a hammer at work.
“This is kinda microwave-repair related,” Hector said.
“Full of cake instead of birds,” moth girl said. She said to put her in a chicken suit. Serve her at Thanksgiving.
“Nice,” Hector said.
“But you loosen me up first,” moth girl said and then, “With your hammer,” and then, “Break my jaw.”
“Nice, yeah,” Hector said. He said that wasn’t a problem. But there was this other thing too. It was a “microwave-based thing.”
“Microwave?” moth girl said.
“My roommate Will is worried about our microwave,” Hector said. He said they had started wondering if there were “protective eggnogs” that could fix a microwave. Was that a thing?
“What does it do exactly?” moth girl said.
“It powers on whenever it wants,” Hector said. He said they had to unplug it or it would start up and the plate would spin and spin until the inside filled with flames.
“Holy cow, mister,” moth girl said.
“And the thing is, Will can hear those flames,” Hector said and then, “It wakes him up,” and then, “I sleep right through it even though I’m way closer,” and then, “But yeah.”
“That’s actually so cute,” moth girl said. She said she liked that. She could picture Hector sleeping soundly.
“Nothing wakes me when I’m out,” Hector said. He said one time Will came home from work to the door locked. He spent “like an hour” banging on the door.
“You’re a deep sleeper,” moth girl said.
“It woke everyone in the whole complex,” Hector said and then, “Except me,” and then, “I’m somehow the only person who slept through it.”
“I like that. That’s my favorite thing,” moth girl said. She said she liked picturing Hector sleeping. And chamomile maybe, for the microwave. Chamomile was great for home appliances.
“Chamomile the tea? That fixes microwaves?” Hector said. He said he was having a hard time “fathoming the mechanism of action.”
“Or fermented wasps,” moth girl said and then, “Do you like ring pops?”
“Not sure,” Hector said.
“Ring pops are extra kindergarten,” moth girl said and then, “Because they’re candy but also jewelry.”
“Multipurpose kind of thing, yeah,” Hector said.
“Double whammy,” moth girl said.
Hector told Will they needed chamomile. This was at 8:23 pm.
“Story of my life,” Will said, about nine hours later, at 5:32 am on Wednesday, January 20, 2010, and then, at 6:02 am, “Teabags okay?” and then, “You’re probably sleeping,” and then, “They don’t have the looseleaf shits at this bullshit ass King Soopers.”
Hector and moth girl talked a while longer that night. Mostly about nothing. Mostly nothing we need.
At one point, moth girl said that Clio slept “super hard too.” She snored actually.
Hector wasn’t sure who Clio was. Moth girl said that was her aunt. Aunt Clio. She did their tarot.
Hector said he remembered. He said sometimes he forgot people when he hadn’t met them.
“You’ll meet her,” moth girl said.
“Like if I’ve just heard about them,” Hector said.
“Eventually,” moth girl said and then, “When you come down to Pueblo,” and then, “She’ll adore you.”
“I’m honestly not that great,” Hector said.
“Silly,” moth girl said.
“At most, I’m a medium likeable person,” Hector said. He said he didn’t even like himself all that much.
Earlier, before the microwave thing, they’d been talking about meatloaf and kindergarten.
And we do need that. Meatloaf and kindergarten are words moth girl used for everything. She will use them more. Hector will use them too.
Kindergarten meant good. It was juice boxes and recess. It was swinging on swings. It was endless summer.
Meatloaf meant bad. It was leftovers. It was two days of happiness followed by five days of work or school. It was chores. It was Ajax wanting her to go to his “adult baseball games” and it was her going and sitting in the stands even though “everything was boring with him.”
Hector said he wasn’t sure what “adult baseball games” were unless they were just baseball games played by adults.
“He was in a corny adult league,” moth girl said.
“I wondered if it was some kind of porn thing,” Hector said.
“It was just adult baseball,” moth girl said.
“Okay but it’s just baseball,” Hector said. He said he felt like “adding the word adult” made everything into porn. But not baseball.
“He would ask me to come,” moth girl said. She said another thing about kindergarten was it was original.
Kindergarten was stuff you hadn’t done with anyone else. It was your birthday. It was romantical and spontaneous.
Hector wanted to know if kickball could be kindergarten. It was his favorite sport.
“I like that,” moth girl said.
“I should join an adult league,” Hector said. He said he wondered if that was “actually a thing.” Kickball was way better than other sports.
“You should,” moth girl said. She said she would come root for him.
“Yes,” Hector said. He said he needed that. He needed “lots of affirmation” when he played kickball.
“I shall supply it,” moth girl said.
“Or when I do basically anything,” Hector said. He said he needed “stadiums of fans” just for him to get the motivation to check his email.
“I will be stadiums,” moth girl said.
“Okay but what if it’s like Ajax,” Hector said. He said he didn’t want to be meatloaf.
“No, it wouldn’t be,” moth girl said.
“I just worry that’s the same thing,” Hector said and then, “If you came to my kickball games.”
“No, nope,” moth girl said.
“Like you went to Ajax’s stuff,” Hector said.
“I see what you mean now,” moth girl said and then, “No it wouldn’t.”
“If you were coming just for me, maybe. As opposed to being genuinely into the sport of it,” Hector said. He said he was “struggling to identify the catalyzing factor.”
“Because you wouldn’t be inviting other girls also,” moth girl said and then, “Girls he was cheating on me with,” and then, “Which he did.”
“Holy hell,” Hector said. He said a lot of things about Ajax seemed “cartoonishly evil.”
“Basically, yeah,” moth girl said. She said that was Ajax. He was controlling and unstable. He’d tell her what to do and if she didn’t listen, he’d say she was “hollowed out” or something. He’d act like she wasn’t of any use anymore.
“That is so weird,” Hector said. He said it was hard for him to imagine someone even using insults like that. They weren’t words he was used to hearing.
“I got used to it, I guess,” moth girl said.
Moth girl said a few more things about kindergarten. It was a whole entire birthday cake. It was holding hands. It was cheap plastic jewelry. It was Polaroid pictures. It was swinging at the park.
It was showing up to Thanksgiving in a chicken suit. It was birthday cake turducken.
It was lots and lots of fun surprises.
“Story of my life is really funny,” Hector said. He said he was wondering if he could work “the whole microwave thing” into his book. It was a funny premise. There was tension but the stakes were “relatively low.”
“I’m always needing a little chamomile,” Will said.
“My concern is maybe it’s redundant,” Hector said. He said he was worried about the book having too many different “semi-overlapping conversations.” It could get confusing.
“Probably it’s fine,” Will said.
“I maybe cannibalize the you/me conversations,” Hector said and then, “So it’s me asking moth girl,” and then, “When she says chamomile, maybe I say story of my life.”