I really need a theme song here, preferably by Oingo Boingo, but we’ll get by for now.
While toasting a single slice last night in the proper slot, you may be sure I got to wondering just what the hell difference it makes.
It was, of course, the last slice on hand, so Rigorous Scientific Testing would have to wait for the arrival of another loaf of bread.
- Time and date: 5:20 pm, 4 September 2010
- Atmospheric data: 73 degrees Fahrenheit, 47 percent relative humidity, pressure 30.02 inches of mercury
- Bread used: Home Pride Butter-Top Wheat
- Toaster setting: Halfway between “Light” and “Dark”
The first slice (the heel will be saved for a sandwich) was placed in the “wrong” slot. The lever engaged normally. After 42 seconds, the toast popped up. However, it was barely warm and hardly darkened.
The second slice was placed in the correct slot. After 53 seconds, the toast popped up. It met the criteria established by the toaster setting.
The third test involved both slots. After 52 seconds, the toast popped up. Both slices met the criteria established by the toaster setting.
Conclusion: There is a reason for specifying a single-slice slot, though the motivation for constructing it that way remains unclear. I lean toward a variation on Dolly’s feedback-device explanation: the thermostat, or whatever it is, ended up closer to one slot than to the other, presumably for packaging purposes, and if the “correct” slot is not filled, the gizmo is designed to eject a bit early, lest burning ensue.
Of course, they could have fitted a device to both slots, but that likely would have driven the cost above twenty 1982 dollars.
This has been dustbury.com, answering the questions you had no intention of ever asking. (I should adopt that as a sub-slogan.)
Addendum: So I conducted a further round of timings, and photographed the results. The “wrong”-slot toast is on the left, the “right”-slot toast on the, um, right.