'twas the first thing I could think of to do in the dark...
The other night I returned home late to discover my little slice of the suburbs had sunk into a pit and was experiencing a blackout. Being incredibly intuitive, I only asked myself, "Why is it so dark? Why are there no lights on in the houses around me? Why aren't the traffic signals working?" about 15 times before coming to the conclusion that there had been a power outage.
I know, right? It's as if all the hours I've spent watching Schoolhouse Rock and Bill Nye, The Science Guy were for naught, my friends, as I was clearly calling into question the fact that I have garnered much of my smarts from the little people inside my television (which I couldn't watch as a result of the blackout, however, I tried turning it on a couple of times anyway...after I also tried to open my automatic garage door to get me inside my shrouded house).
It was just after 11 p.m., when I walked into my pitch black house. Wired from hours of coffee and conversation, yet thwarted in my usual nightly ability to read, educate myself via TV, or get on the computer, I fumbled my way upstairs with the Tool Man and the ungodly early hour of 11 p.m., and got ready for bed.
Now, bear in mind that the night of this blackout, it was approximately 80 degrees, 100 percent humidity, and there was no breeze. Thanks to TV, I have learned that heat rises, so these factors meant our bedroom was hella hot. I don't really do hot well. With those factors in mind, please join me as I take you into my bedroom for a brief transcript of the conversation my husband and I had:
Me: Gaaaawwwwdddd. It's SOOOOOOO hot up here!!!
Tool Man: You'll be fine.
Me: I swear to you, I'm gonna die!!! I will die!!!! It's toooooooo hoooooootttttt.
Tool Man: Quit moving around. You'll cool down.
Me: If I could see, I would get a paper and pencil and write my last will and testament.
Tool Man: It's not that bad.
Me: Tell the boys I loved them.
Tool Man: Can we go to sleep now?
Me: How can you possibly sleep? It's soooooo hooootttt! And I'm sooooo bored! I wanna read. I can't sleep. There's no way I can sleep like this. Didn't you hear me? I said it's too hot!
Tool Man: (silence)
Me: Maybe if I whip my ponytail around really fast, I can generate a breeze. Scoot over so I don't take your eye out.
Tool Man: (silence)
Me: Oh, that's just going to make me sweat more! I hate sweating! Do something!! It's soooooo hooootttt.
After several minutes stating my obvious displeasure, tossing in several (as in "shut up, already") references to how bored I also was, and trying to think if I'd ever seen a television program about how fast a person dies when subjected to extreme high temperatures, I turned back to the Tool Man to engage him.
Tool Man: You don't have to say it. I know. You're hot. You're soooooooo hooootttt.
Me: I'm totally hot, and if it wasn't sooooo hooott and didn't just feel a river of sweat cascade between my breasts, I'd show you just how hot I am. Alas, I thought I should just tell you that I don't think I have what it takes to cut it as a pioneer. I am truly sorry.
Tool Man: (silence)
Me: If I were a pioneer, I would pray every night for a plague of grasshoppers to come and wipe out my family's fields, thus forcing us to pack up the wagons and head to cooler climes. Short of grasshoppers, I'd also consider a roving band of miscreants to ride in one day and unleash hell upon the inhabitants of my tiny town.
Tool Man: You know you're being a little dramatic now, right? You know that we'll never experience pioneer hardships ever again, right?
Me: Hello? I've seen your silly science fiction movies! I know the population can be wiped out with the tiniest experiment gone wrong! Who's to say this blackout isn't the result of someone tinkering in a secret lab in their basement four blocks over right this very moment!?
Tool Man: Who's to say...
Me: I'm sooooooo hhoooooottt!!! It's too hooottttt!! I think I'm gonna die...I want to die......
Seconds later, I heard the tiny click of our bedside phone, which was soon followed by the resuscitation of our clock radio, it's flashing "12:00....12:00...12:00," signaling it's pulse back to life.
"OH! Praise Jesus!" I yelled, feeling the breeze from the ceiling fan increase and spill down upon my sweaty, ravished, pony tailed, naked, and splayed body as the blades picked up their pace. "Thank you for not taking me like this. Thank you for the lack of grasshoppers. Thank you for electricity. Thank you..."
As I reached down to grab the sheet from the bottom of the bed to warm up my now chilled body, I asked Tool Man if he, too, felt like the blackout had gone on forever. "Something like that," he responded as I rolled over to reset the alarm. It was then that I discovered the black out had, in fact, not gone on forever.
It had lasted only thirty minutes.
Not only am I a whiner, but indeed, I am a very big weenie.
Labels: I love you Ben Franklin