Current mood:

happy

Raindrops Keep Falling on My Poor Forethought
So my sister called me after getting off work.

"You sound tired," I said.

"I sort of am," she admitted. "I was supposed to get out of work about an hour ago but we just finished up at around 10 and I'm headed home." My sister works at a newly-established coffee shop on the Cornell University campus.

"There's a lot of background noise," I said. "It's hard to hear you."

"Yeah," she answered, sounding unusually out of breath. "It's raining. A lot."

"I can hear it," I said.

"I'm walking to my car now-- the parking lot is huge so I had to park really far away."

"That sucks. I hate the feeling of wet clothes sticking to my body."


After which she paused for longer than a normal conversational pause.


"Well," she continued, "I have this pouch in my backpack that's completely waterproof..."

She pauses again momentarily as if realizing that the sentence she has begun is not necessarily one it is in her best interests to finish.

"And?"

"And I..."

"And you?"

"And I figured I'd use it for the stuff that I wanted to keep dry," she says, tentatively. "So I put my clothes in it."

"Your clothes?"

"I really liked the outfit I was wearing today and wanted to wear it to a party later, so I put the clothes in the waterproof pouch in my bookbag..."

"So what are you wearing for the walk to the car?"

"Well..." she said, not answering.

"So what are you wearing?" I asked again, quietly feeling that I already knew the answer."

"I'm walking through the Cornell parking lot in my underwear," she said. "Yes."

She went on to tell me that it "wasn't too bad." That she was wearing a sports bra and horizontally-striped boxer briefs and that she could probably pass for a jogger, were she not
a.) walking, and
b.) carrying a backpack and a skateboard.

"And c.) in a torrential downpour," she continued. "How is it possible that it's actually raining harder? I would have ridden the skateboard but I didn't want to rust the bearings, so I'm just holding it."

"So you're just walking through a parking lot in your underwear?" I asked again.

"Yes."

"Wearing a backpack and holding a skateboard."

"Yes," she said. "It sounds really weird when you say it like that."

"It is sort of weird," I say.

"It is a little," she admits. "I'm almost at my car now."

And that is when, over the sounds of the thunder, I hear my sister yell "FUCK."

End Note:

If you are so worried about your outfit getting wet that you are willing to walk through the parking lot of an Ivy League school in your Gap boxer briefs and matching sports bra, packing your day-wear outfit in a waterproof pouch in your bookbag, try not to leave your car keys in the pocket of your pants, as it will defeat nearly the whole purpose of this utterly ridiculous act.