rainy day antics

[fearlesstemp]

It's common knowledge that all the cool kids eat lunch alone in their cars in WalMart parking lots on a regular basis. Oh wait, no, it's loser temporary employees who eat lunch alone in the cars in WalMart parking lots on a regular basis. Like, say, me.

Anyhoo, as anyone in the tri-state area knows, Thursday was a rainy-ass day. Which is, you know, good if you want to be all logical about it and enjoy having usable drinking water and stuff like that. But it's also annoying because it means that you get wet. Especially if you are retarded and leave your car window down the night before, like some people did.

I swear, I never leave my car window open. I don't! Never! Ok, almost never! Really, extremely rarely! And I came out Thursday morning to a soaking wet driver's seat and no time to spare to make the one hundred foot dash inside for towels to put on the seat. In the month I've had this job I have regressed from the Newer, Better Jess, who was shocked into punctuality by a Dr. Phil segment on Oprah (he said terrible things about chronically late person! Which means I am a terrible person!) and arrived to work fifteen minutes early, back to the Older, Worse Jess who races into work every morning either two minutes late or barely on time and does all of her makeup in the car at stoplights. Thursday morning was no exception; I was on the late end of my Possibly Punctual Departure Window and ended up rooting around through the back of my car and placing some plastic WalMart bags over the wet segments of the seat, which wasn't completely effective. I still felt dampness but refused to let myself check when I got to work to see if I had a big wet ass because. I mean, I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it and wasn't better to live in my happy dream world where I had a dry ass and didn't appear to have an incontinence problem.

By the time lunch rolled around it was practically torrential out there and I was faced with a difficult choice: Face possible death due to dangerous driving conditions and eat another lonely lunch listening to top forty radio willing Like I Love You to come on the radio while sitting in the WalMart parking lot? Or go into the company kitchen and try to socialize with people for an hour? Naturally I chose the former and traipsed outside with a devil-may-care attitude and my demented umbrella, which suddenly decided not to stay open without me propping it open with my head.

The retarded umbrella was obviously a sign telling me not to go out there! Just as the wet seat that morning was a warning telling me not to enter the vehicle! But I refused to heed either warning and made my daily drive to WalMart, keeping my head down while I passed by Circuit City because I didn't want to be spotted by the Installation Dude I had spurned earlier in the week. I picked out my spot and prepared for my usual WalMart run (that day's list, in order of importance: Diet Pepsi, Tootsie rolls and possibly a new umbrella) and decided to only carry a few things into the store due to the rain and leave my big bulky bag in the car. After all, I did not want the NSYNC folder inside to be damaged by the rain.

I got my stuff together, hopped out of the car, slammed the door, and REALIZED I'D LEFT MY KEYS INSIDE! In! Side! The car! Had I locked the doors? Of course I had! Why? Why did I lock the doors? Who would EVER steal my car? I mean, no one would be able to see the NSYNC office products hidden in my big bag so they wouldn't even KNOW what precious cargo my little station wagon carried!

I stood there in the rain and just stared stupidly at the keys sitting, like, three feet away, taunting me with their not-in-my-handness. I was running around to the back of the car to check and see if the trunk was open so I could crawl into the car (no luck) when a MASSIVE gust of wind came out of nowhere and completely blew my umbrella inside out, leaving me key-less, cash-less, and umbrella-less in the driving rain.

I truly cannot express how hard it was raining. It was, like, unbelievable. I only stood out there another minute or two and then I ran like nobody's business for the store and still I was soaking by the time I made it there. I pounced on the greeter lady all "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHERE IS A PAY PHONE?" and was given the happy news that, of course, it was outside.

I ran back out there and began a series of psychotic collect calls to family members. First, I called my brother because my rain-induced hysteria caused me to forget that he doesn't have a car. Not that it mattered, really, because I couldn't get through to him, but here's a fun fact for your files: Did you know that one can leave collect messages? How cool is that! I did just that on Thursday and I left a doozy before hanging up and calling my father, the only person who carries an extra key to my car with him. Our conversation went something like this:

Dad: [vaguely pissed off, as he always is at work] Hello.

Me: Dad!

Dad: Yeah Jess, what is it?

Me: Dad, oh my God I'm at Walmart and I just LOCKED MY KEYS IN MY CAR and I'm on my lunch break and it's RAINING and can you come get me? Can you? I'm really sorry! I can't believe I DID THIS! I am SO STUPID! I tried to call Jimmy but he's not answering so I had to call you and are you busy? I mean, can you get away? I can call someone –

Dad: Where are you?

Me: WalMart.

Dad: Which one?

Me: Oh! The one near my office.

Dad: Ok, calm down, get somewhere dry, I'll be right there.

And he came and RESCUED ME! My hero!

While I was waiting for said rescue I ran into the store to buy the aforementioned items and, also, to buy a new shirt since the one I was wearing had gotten completely soaked between the standing at my car futilely trying to open locked doors over and over, and the series of psychotic collect calls. I'm telling you, I looked FINE. People were literally turning to look at me after I walked by and I heard kids whispering to their parents when I passed. It kind of gave me a taste of what it feels like to be a circus freak.

Anyway. I bought a five-dollar turtleneck and some tootsie rolls, but of course forgot the Diet Pepsi (a tragedy of epic proportions, as any Diet Pepsi addict would tell you), and was rescued not long after by the paternal unit. Moral of the story: there is no moral of the story. I just like spamming people's friends pages with my long-winded stories.

But dude! How bad was I with my car this week? Between this and the CD installation gone horribly wrong and the rolling down the street? Or maybe it's just me and my faulty brain, since I have engaged in dumbass behavior without the assistance of my car. Last night, for instance, I went to the grocery store and got cash out of the magic wall and left my card behind. Naturally, when the cashier came up to let me know it had happened (apparently she heard the annoying ATM "PLEASE REMOVE YOUR CARD" beeping noise three aisles over while I was completely immune standing five feet away), I was flipping through the new Weekly World News like the trash journalism fiend I am.

Comments

[kaelie.livejournal.com]

Cash from the magic wall!

Keeping your head down to avoid Installation Dude!

Oh, Jess. I'm so sorry you had this horrific experience. But what a great story!!!

Darlin', you can spam my journal any day!

[msizzabella.livejournal.com]

In fact, I don't know what I would do without your hysterical Jess stories, I just don't.