The One About Whitewater Rafting to Work

Category: weekleez

The One About White Water Rafting to Work
May 01, 2002

hi kids,

it’s been so long since i’ve written one of these that i feel like i owe you two. Laura “loony roomie” Bentley got so tired of waiting for a weekly that she actually wrote me one. (wow! that’s like christmas!) i was going to use hers but she talks about “taking a leak” in a bathroom that has a full length mirror next to the toilet, and well, i just don’t talk about that kind of filth. FILTH!
derp! look for laura’s weekly on the webpage. maybe i’ll design the graphique to go with that one. it’s a trade! barter! swap! also, lots of you wrote me and told me you liked the one about the bee in my car. sadists.
if you liked that painful memoir, i’m sure you’ll love this little nugget of “god is trying to drive me insane”.

this is a true story.
all of this happened to me before 7:30 on tuesday morning.

so anyway, yesterday (toosday) was the last day of april. and so i guess april decided to get in one more of those “april showers” you always hear about. and by “april shower” i mean “torrential downpour”. because let me tell you, it was not a shower. it was a miserable, driving, huge-droplet hurtling, wet rain. it rained so much rain that the parking lot where i park my car was, in a word, flooded, or in several words, THE #$%!*$ PARKING LOT IS UNDERWATER!

well, that was my reaction anyway. y’see, there was at least 4.7 inches of water. i don’t care what kind of shoes you have on, nothing can withstand 4.7 inches of water, and for some reason my car was parked like, 30 feet away. i was, in a word, stranded, or in several words… nevermind.

now. there is rain pouring down the side of the building. the gutters are screaming and gushing. there is water swirling and pooling and splashing. i can’t hear anything because the gutters are so loud. the rain is loud. the gutters are freaking out, they’ve never seen so much water before. the parking lot has become a river. curbs are twisting water all about and i swear it’s white capping.
my parking lot has become river rapids.
i think i screamed, “doesn’t some ass get paid to engineer something so that crap like this doesn’t happen?!”
ha ha. my day is just begining.

so i have an umbrella, a cell phone, car keys, a book, a sunvisor (why? i have no idea) and a can of pop in my hands. it’s at times like these that i wish i had a purse.
a really big purse.
one that i could fit into.
so i’m standing under a pathetically leaking awning and weighing my options.

ok, i gotta have the umbrella. it’s essential, else i’ll have purple dye streaming down my face, and it’s not pretty.
ok, the keys. i need the keys to unlock the door.
the book. i don’t need the book, but also i don’t have time to put the book back in the apartment. it’ll just have to get a little wet. i don’t care, it’s a library book.
pop. caffeen. it’s more essential than the umbrella. i can cram it in my shirt pocket.
the sunvisor i can slip through my arm, no biggie.
cell phone in the pants pocket. check.

ok, but what about my socksnshoes?
there’s no way i’m gonna spend all day in wet socksnshoes. so i stand there like an idiot trying to figure out how to get to my car. maybe some driftwood or an old tire will float by and i can use it as…

so i came up with a plan.
really, it’s a no brainer. i just have to take off my socksnshoes, run like crazy to the jeep, unlock the door and hop in. cake and pie. cake. and. pie. how easy. i must be some kind of genius.

so i slip my hippie shoes off and cram them under my armpit, the same arm holding the umbrella ’cause the other one is brandishing a sunvisor, book, and my keys. the keys being the important part that will allow me to enter the sanctuary of the jeep. i take off my socks and stuff one in my front pocket sans cell phone and one in my back pocket. but apparently i had some papers of some sort in that back pocket so i pulled the sock out to put it in the other back pocket (trust me, that detail is most important). and i quickly roll up the legs of my jeans.
(pause a moment to get that mental picture. yeah that’s it, tom sawyer with purple hair, you got it.)
now i’m ready to “book it” to the car. only i notice something out of the corner of my eye.
something must’ve fallen out of my back pocket.
and there it goes, floating away.
it’s green.

oh crap! it’s a dollar bill! dang, can i not get a break?
ok you know what? i’m in no mood to go chasing that measley dollar. it’s not worth it. so i watch it and yell (over the loud rain) “bye george!”
but then i notice that it’s not a tiny george washington looking up at me as it floats (quite quickly, i might add) down the sidewalk, the opposite direction of my jeep. it’s an huge, ugly… keith richards? ohmygodthat’snotgeorge! it’sandrewjackson!

cripes! a 20?! run jaimie, run!
so i abandon all rational thought and quickly chase after my precious money. er, i’ve mentioned the 4.7 inches of water right? do you know how hard it is to walk quickly in that? you can’t. you’ll splash water all up your pants. you must walk slowly, yet deliberately. except, that’s not fast enough to catch andy, who is by the way, having the time of his life. i think at this point i half growl-half scream because i realize i’m gonna have to run to get my money. so i run. and i splash water all over me and i reach down and snatch up my money, and also my shirt sleeve, which is quite long and unbuttoned (because it just is) has somehow managed to get completely soaked. i stare in shock.
but only for a moment.
and then it hits me.
dang it’s cold!
and where did all this wind come from? the umbrella is going crazy.

water! cold! my feet are freezing! let’s go jaimie! run to the jeep! i can’t run to the jeep i’ll splash water all over me. you’ve already splashed water all over you! stop arguing and just runtothejeep! cold! cold! cold!

so i run!

and i splash! i splash the whole 30 feet to my car! i’m screaming!
why did i bother rolling up my pants?

i look like a deranged loon. and then…
the wind hits my umbrella, in just that way, to totally bollocks the thing backwards, thus making my umbrella as useless as the shoes in my armpit. i scream some more.

finally, after what seems like two hours i make it to the jeep, soaked to the bone. i open the door, throw everything in the passenger seat, get it and growl.
and the pouring, violent rain… she does not taper off… she does not slow down to a sprinkle… nay nay… the pouring, violent rain… as i slam my car door…the rain… she stops. instantly. as if she’d never been there at all.

and for 2 seconds the anger in me boils and rages just like the water coming out of the gutter. and i look to the sky, up to god, and i shake my fist and i start to yell but then, just like the rain, my adrineline stops. and i notice that my feet hurt because they are so cold. and my clothes are soaked. and i’m totally freezing. and water has dripped from my hair, which is covered in hair goop, poison, into my eyes and they sting. and my god, i’m pathetic.

and instead of yelling at god, i pull my cell phone outta my pocket, and dry it off, and i call my roommate, who is still in her bed, probably all cozy and warm, probably all fuzzy headed from sleeping, probably getting mad because the phone is ringing, and when she answers the phone i blast her. and she listens, and she feels sorry for me. and i hang up. and i then look up at the sky, at god, and i say, “tom sawyer had a raft.”

the moral of this completely true parafable:
don’t yell at god, because he is all powerful and can smite you. instead yell at your roommate. because when life gives you lemons, you’re supposed to make lemonade. but the only problem is, you really like lemonade, and you can’t just drink one glass. you have to drink it until it’s gone. and then you get sick. so by all means, don’t make lemonade! it isn’t worth it! blast your roommate!

and that’s how my tuesday started, april ended, and may isn’t looking too good either.

i have a sneaky suspicion that i’m gonna get struck by lightning before the year ends.
what a weekly that would make!

next week’s epitomb: who knows? i’m sure it’ll have something to do me being an idiot. hilarity ensues!

jaimie “yes. it really happened” pickle

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