The burnt man goes Ouch...
Imagine if you will a young woman who lives in constant fear of the man she loves doing something stupid and "breaking" himself. Normally this fear is only consuming about 5% of her brain, family and school consuming the rest, but there are times where that 5% is well warranted.
For you see, the man in question was invited to his first professional NFL game and as all who know this man can attest to, short of a very small list of other events, it was to be a crowning moment in his life. Shuffling around his schedule to make it happen, the man departed his house early in the morning and rushed to the meeting location with visions of footballs dancing in his head.
It should be pointed out at this junction that the temperature at kick-off was to be a brisk 96 degrees and the seats the man were to enjoy were located in the non-shaded section of Fed-Ex field. It should also be pointed out that the man knowing the temperature dressed in a light weight sleeveless shirt, the better to avoid the heat he thought. Also somewhere in the back of the woman's mind, the 5% mysteriously rose to about 15%.
Arriving at the tailgating location, the man glanced up at the sun and at the pale upper regions of his arms and thought that perhaps grabbing some sunscreen might have been as important as grabbing the bag of tortilla chips and Miller Lite, but quickly brushed off such thoughts as foolishness. The time was approximately 0930 and the festive atmosphere soon wiped any stray thoughts of personal safety from his mind.
Fast forward to 1215 when the man, now garbed in a Redskin hat and pair of sunglasses that seemed to be designed for a person just crossing the threshold of their first decade instead of well past their third, happened to look at his arms and once more think that even a regular short sleeved shirt might have been a smarter choice for him to have made. Before he could dwell further on that train of thought, someone yelled "Get your free beer coozie here!", and like a monkey led to the banana tree, caution was once more thrown to the wind.
The game started and as the man looked through his Guido, aka Strong Guy from X-Factor for those in the know, sunglasses he could see the dark red tint that was slowly forming on his arms. However when he took them off, his arms looked quite normal, although he knew they were getting a bit tingly all over. Hoping that the clouds would form quickly to give him some shade, the man began cheering with the masses, albeit secretly for the Saints as Drew Braes and Reggie Bush were both starters on his fantasy team.
Two quarters passed and the man could no longer deny the fact that his arms were now approaching the red tint of freshly painted mustangs and opted to do the only thing he knew how to do well, he began to improvise and adapt. For you see, the beer coozies were not the standard "slide in/pull out" holders, but more inventive "wrap around" designs. Thus putting two and two together to reach four, thank goodness for Alabama math and not counting the thumb as a "real finger", he began lining his arms with his coozie, as well as those of the people he had entered with and finished the game in relative comfort, relative meaning his arms sweated rivers and he looked like a dumb ass that now had beer coozies all along his arms.
Then in a triumphant moment, the Redskins were victorious, at the cost of the man's fantasy football team failing him, and a regrouping at "Ye Olde Tailgate" resumed. Sea tales were told, even more alcohol was consumed, and the man was dubbed "Big O" due to him removing the Redskins cap and replacing it with the more familiar Cincinnati Bearcats cap he wore. Laughing in good nature with the others, mainly because the man was only one of three "pale skins" in the group, the departure time finally arrived and the man began his journey home.
Arriving at his domicile, he was greeted by a very angry and nearly overflowing canine that had held her numbers for nearly twelve hours awaiting the man's tardy return. Getting the stink eye all during the walk, he accepted his silent scolding even though he was pleased there was no mess for him to clean up. Restoring order at home, the man finally worked up the courage to turn on the bathroom mirror and see how sever the trauma was to his limbs.
Imagine if you will, someone placing a slice of bacon on a sidewalk in the middle of July on the Vegas strip. Now imagine that bacon as a pair of arms and a burnt tomato, minus two very small circles where a pair of child's sunglasses might have protected, and that was the scene that greeted him. Whimpering in the shower, and not in the normal good way one might think of whimpering in the shower, he dried himself off and drowned in a haze of aloe lotion, motrin, and enough water to fill a small swimming pool.
Now you might be wondering what happened to the lady who frets over this idiocy of manhood, so I will attempt to answer it thusly. In a rare display of karmatic balance, there was a greater need of her attention for her family over that of her crispy critter, so her threat meter was drowned out for an afternoon.
The man is now planning his escape from work due to the fact that his sleeves put so much pressure on his scorched shoulders that he wants to scream and while he knows the woman he loves will never say "I told you so", he knows that deep inside the dark ninja-girl heart, she is smiling at the fact that sometimes the best lessons have to be learned with the rod instead of the carrot.
And that is the end of this little story...for now...