I love water.
I like to drink it, cook with it, swim in it. I like showers, hot tubs, steam saunas, pools, lakes, ponds, rivers and oceans.
I’m not picky – I’ll take chlorinated, fluorinated, fresh or salty water. I like sprinklers and slip-and-slides, water parks, water rides at amusement parks, water guns and water balloons.
But water can also be annoying. I don’t like slush, or even fresh snow that much. I don’t like washing dishes or laundry, and sloshing water over the edge of a drinking glass onto my silk work shirt will usually elicit a very naughty swear word or two.
How about getting rained on?
Getting rained on can bring out the boorish, boring adult or the whimsical child in me . Whether I get annoyed or enjoy the rain usually dependings on where I’m going – am I leaving work to come home, or am I trying to get to work? Am I having a night on the town and it’s going to be raining all night anyway, so why put up a fuss? Or am I on the way to the movies where I’ll be stuck in a dark theater with too much air conditioning for two hours?
This past Monday I was getting ready to go home from work. I hadn’t been watching the weather so it came as a bit of suprise to me when dark clouds rolled in and covered the sky. With very little warning, it was a deluge. There was no polite falling of light rain which may have signaled a more insistent downfall, just suddenly blankets of rain sheeting down from the sky, bouncing off of the concrete patio and pounding on the glass windows of the office from where I watched all of this transpire.
When I left the office, I cracked the door open and quickly parachuted my umbrella open into a shield against the onslaught. I ventured out, and within seconds the ankles of my thin work pants were drenched and clinging to my shins. I felt the rain start to penetrate my shoes and I knew that the soaking, squishing feel of water in my socks was imminent. The umbrella was keeping my head, shoulders and back dry, but then I arrived at the car and my next dilemma: How do I get in the car, throw my bag inside, get the umbrella down and in the car, and get the door closed without getting drenched?
First I tried to position the umbrella over the hood of the car so that I could open the door under the protection of my waterproof dome, but the water bounced up violently from the roof and right into my face. There really aren’t a lot of options in a situation like this, so
Phase 1: I readied my bag on my shoulder, balanced the umbrella and unlocked the door.
Phase 2: I grabbed the handle, flung my door open and moved quickly into the space between the door and the inside of the car, keeping the umbrella position above.
Phase 3: I threw the bag and the keys into the car onto the passenger seat. Score!
Phase 4: This is where things get tricky. I had to manage to close the umbrella, slide into the driver’s seat, bring the dripping umbrella across my body and either into the backseat or passenger seat floor (minimizing drippage on myself) and shut the door. Hopefully all done in one smooth motion.
I closed the umbrella and immediately started feeling the rain saturate my hair. I slammed down into the driver’s seat and pulled the umbrella across my chest and then pushed it down onto the passenger seat floor, soaking my shirt and lap and puddling an obscene amount of water on the leather passenger seat. I shut the door, slowed my breathing and surveyed the damage. I was soaked, the inside of the driver’s side window and door was dripping raindrops, and I had a veritable kiddy pool on my passenger side seat which was being adeptly soaked up by my cloth bag.
I thought – Eh well, it’s just water, at least I’m inside now. I reached for my phone to call the Hubby and…I reached for my phone…hmmm…that’s strange. Something like horrified enlightenment bloomed across my face as I remembered my phone sitting on my work desk still plugged into its charger. Inside. On my work desk. Across the sea that used to be my parking lot. *sigh* I had to have my phone.
With a grumble I started the car and moved it as close as socially acceptable to the front door. I grabbed my badge and the umbrella with one hand and the door handle firmly – resolutely! – in the other. I flung open the door, lept out of my seat and opened the umbrella and slammed the door shut behind me. I ran up the walkway and made it safely inside. I set the umbrella in the stand and then squeaked myself across the linoleum to my office and phone. On the way out I opened the umbrella and stood outside under the safety of the narrow building overhang for a moment. The sewer drains were having trouble keeping up with the sudden onslaught, and the water between my car and me was probably an inch deep.
I remembered that my gym bag had a towel in it, and that made me happy, so I started walking back to the car. Somewhere along the way, I was hit with the futility of trying to keep dry; my shoes and socks were soaked, my pants were wet up to mid-thigh, my lap and shirt were wet, and my hair was damp from the last times getting into and out of the car. So…
I got to the car, tossed my phone and umbrella inside, and with the rain pouring down on my head I went to the truck and grabbed my gym towel. I craddled the towel with my body and brought it to the driver’s seat where I spread it from the headrest down over the seat.
Then I shut the door and played in the rain. I kicked puddles, jumped in puddles, brushed drenched hair out of my eyes and squished the water around in my shoes. I giggled and laughed and ran around like a complete psycho. I took my shoes off and curled my toes in the wet grass, then stomped around in a slurry of mud and let the rain rinse my feet clean.
It was Monday July 5th, and only me, one of my coworkers, a few people in another building and the security guard were on campus, so I had a good five minutes of uninterrupted good, rainy fun. Then I strolled to the car, casually opened the door, sat down on my towel and headed home.
Blog Note: The pictures in this entry have all been pulled from outside sources. Links to the source photos are listed below.