Something happens in my closet: every time I open the closet doors there are more hangers than there were the day before. By now, hangers in my closet outnumber clothing 3-1. But these hangers are no ordinary mysteriously multiplying metal materiel. They sneakily snag themselves together just to make my wardrobe planning more difficult. I try and pull one out, but they cling together like lovers being torn apart. Others fall to the floor, possibly trying to create a distraction. But I’m heartless. I keep tugging. I mangle and untangle and the once triangular shape looks like a beaten “S.” But they get the last laugh. Because upon my next closet opening they have yet again multiplied.
I am trying to get to the bottom of this trickery. Do I have a magical closet? Do hangers have a lust for reproduction? Maybe someone is playing a cruel joke. But who? The questions are more than the answers and I don’t know who to call. (Hanger Busters?)
I feel helpless. I sleep right across from my closet and, naturally, I can only wonder about what magic manifests itself in there. I can’t help but think back to the movie Star Wars, Attack of the Clones. I remember the thousands and thousands of little white drones lining up to, well, attack. (Great name, Lucas.) Then I think of thousands of hangers in my closet, training for battle with special combat techniques—ready to swing off the bar and rip out my eyeballs as I lay helpless in bed.
You may think I’m joking, but what if I’m right? I mean, it’s so perfect. Who would expect it? What if your hangers were planning the same thing? What about your neighbors’ hangers? It’s pretty scary if you think about it. That’s why I like to think of flowers instead.
Flowers are nice…