Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Soaked In 16 Seconds

It's Tuesday, and Farmer H is going to the auction. I rarely ask for anything. Certainly not a box of auction meat. The one thing I've been asking for since January is a goblet to stash my found-penny collection. Right now it's in an opaque container that used to hold marinara sauce for Little Caesar's breadsticks. Yes. Of course I washed it! I am not an animal.

Anyhoo... I might ask him to look for a gently-used sturdy boat suitable for floating me home from town. Today I got caught in a SIGNIFICANT downpour while sacrificing myself to obtain hamburger to make Farmer H pasta sauce for his elbow-macaroni supper. Normally, it would be spaghetti, but The Pony has assorted noodles that he brought home from his college apartment kitchen.

Anyhoo... when I left for town, the skies had darkened. I could hear an occasional peal of thunder while in the shower. Yet there was no precipitation as I began my journey. No precipitation, in fact, until I reached the prison. Downpourier and downpourier it got, until I'd traversed another mile to Save A Lot. I sat in T-Hoe, waiting for it to slacken.

CRASH-BOOM!

Lightning flashed, all jaggedy, up over the hill where Farmer H's Storage Unit Store is located. That's pretty close! Maybe 150 yards from Save A Lot. Still, I waited. I had my little red umbrella on the passenger floor. But there was LIGHTNING! Still, my little red umbrella had a plastic cap over the metal on top. And a plastic handle over the metal of the stem. I could probably risk it. I'd been waiting 10 minutes already.

I opened the door, popped up my 'brella, and slid out. Got the door locked, and started walking across the driving part of the lot to the door. WELL! Excuuuuse ME! A car going the wrong way drove by, making me stop and stand in the pouring rain that was blowing sideways. And the threat of LIGHTNING! I'm pretty sure I mumbled under my breath,

"I wouldn't want YOU to stop and let me cross, while you're sitting all dry in your car!"

Once inside, I found myself behind the wheel of a recalcitrant cart. Just one wheel that wouldn't cooperate. But it was a front wheel, and forced me from side to side, no rhyme nor reason, in an exponentially worse version of Farmer H's sweaving. Still, I got some pizza sauce, canned mushrooms, hamburger, bag of assorted Tootsie Roll treats for The Pony (and me to share), an assortment of individual chip bags, steak rolls, and Hawaiian Rolls.

After paying, and telling the personable checker that I was exhausted from wrestling that cart, she continued the conversation. It's not like the store was overcrowded.

"You're the smartest person I've talked to today!"

Of course I was! I was pleased that she could sense the VALEDICTORIANNESS oozing out of my pores!

"You're the only one I've seen with an umbrella!"

"Oh. Well. I had it in the back of my car."

"Say, this cart really IS bad! We need to take this one out of use!"

She followed me over to the counter where I was boxing my foodstuffs. Not in a creepy way. She was straightening up the bag racks, and the empty boxes underneath the counter.

"Oh, look! You're lucky. It's really slacked off."

WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN?

It must have really been bad while I was shopping in the back of the store. Because as I looked out, the rain was sluicing down in sheets, and then being blown horizontal. Pieces of trash were sailing along the new river that had formed in the driving lane. Sweet Gummi Mary! I was not looking forward to going out there. I was less looking forward to living the rest of my life in Save A Lot. So I put my box of goodies on the child seat area, rolled the replacement cart out under the overhang by the next-door laundromat, and popped open my umbrella. Leaning over kept the grocery box dry, and my head was dry with the umbrella sitting on my noggin.

EVERYTHING ELSE WAS SOAKED IN SECONDS!

The wind blew the horizontal rain all the way up to my shoulders! The lapping of the river waves went up into my shoes! My pantslegs acted as wicks to soak up a couple pounds of water each. I must have gained 10 pounds of water-weight in seconds!

Once T-Hoe's hatch was raised, I stepped under it and set the umbrella in the back while I transferred the box to his rear. The horizontal rain continued to pelt my left side. Then I had to pick up the umbrella again, close the hatch, and take my cart to the return. To do this, I had to hold the umbrella out in front of my face like a jouster's pointy thing. Otherwise it would have let the rain needle my face, and would probably have turned inside out from the force of the gusts.

The worst part was getting in T-Hoe again. I opened the door and closed the umbrella. Tossed it like a javelin into the floor of the shotgun seat. THEN I hoisted my ever-soaking self onto the running board and sat my ample rumpus on the seat. I had gently laid the door against the chrome strip of the door of the white car parked next to me. I figured the rain would let it slip and slide. I didn't slam it. I need all the room I could get to bend my knees and get my soggy feet in, because the driver's seat was soaked.

DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO TRY AND SWIVEL AN AMPLE RUMPUS IN WET COTTON PANTS ON A DAMP LEATHER SEAT?

Conditions were even worse at the liquor store! I'm glad I went, though, because I won $50 on a $5 pink Lady Luck scratcher! Anyhoo... when I came out of there and closed up my umbrella, it seemed like I was under a downspout! Maybe the wind was blowing the water off the roof. It was like a fire hose spraying down on my head!

By the time I got inside the Gas Station Chicken Store for my magical elixir, the rain had slacked to a normal shower. But the damage was done. I don't know why I bothered to shower. I don't think I even get THAT WET in my own shower! Tendrils of my lovely lady-mullet were plastered all willy-nilly across my face and forehead. I squished when I walked. My pants were almost falling down from the weight of the absorbed water. I think they were a quicker picker-upper than Bounty paper towels!

Let the record show that both the cheerful clerk and the Man Owner tried not to look at me. I imagine they had a good guffaw when I left. The gal DID say, "Is it wet out there?"

Yeah. A little bit. Such a little bit that when I squeaked myself back into T-Hoe, I was barely able to move my arms, due to the wet shirt plastered across my back and shoulders. Once home, I had to disrobe and chuck all my clothes in the dryer, and set my shoes upside down on the air conditioning vents.

I had wasted a shower! But saved on washing that set of clothes.

5 comments:

Sioux Roslawski said...

Having a long soak in the triangle tub would have been nice, after getting sopping wet from the rain. Oh. The triangle tub is always occupato, because of The Pony?

River said...

If I'm that drenched and someone says to me "is it wet out there?" I'm usually tempted to say "No, I always sweat this much," just to see the looks on their faces. I hope you remembered to dry T-hoe's seats.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
It would have been nice, but that's my prime lair time, while having lunch. The triangle tub is generally free in the afternoons. The earliest The Pony commandeers it is around 5:30, but mostly 7:00.

Even worse, I ASSUMED my clothes were dry, and found them the next morning (by which I mean noon-thirty) still DAMP! That's because I didn't want high heat to set a spot of red cherry limeade powder that had splashed out on my pink plaid shirt (my CASINO UNIFORM!). I rubbed it with soap and rinsed, thinking it would come out without a full wash for one little spot. So I had to hang the shirt, and turn that dryer up on high heat.

***
River,
Heh, heh! That would have been hilarious. T-Hoe's seats evaporated when I got out. I guess the air got dryer because I'd been running the defogger for the windshield. But then I'd have to plop my ample rumpus on there again in soggy pants when I came out. I told The Pony how one whole side of my underwear was wet, and he looked at me in horror!

I could barely peel my socks off my shrivelly toes! And they're the kind that is supposed to wick away moisture! The moisture, like Richard Gere as Zach Mayo in "An Officer and a Gentleman," had nowhere else to go.

Bluebird49 said...

On man, I hate a recalcitrant cart! Just trying to wrangle it around a store wears me out. Then if I get a chatty clerk who wants to know if it's wet outside when I'm dripping on the floor, well, I probably am not in the greatest of moods! You actually went to the liquor store in all that, too! Well, it did pay off! And then stopped for magic elixer, too --- you can't have an ample rumpus doing all that sliding in and out, wet pants and all! I think you're fooling us with the "ample" word!

Hillbilly Mom said...

Bluebird,
I guarantee that my rumpus is indeed more ample than it should be! But when I start out on a mission, I have to finish it, even while nearly drowning from the deluge. Going without my magical elixir and scratchers is worse than looking like a drowned rat!