(no subject)
You know what sucks more than coming out of Super Wal-mart into that massive acreage of a parking lot in O degrees F/ -18 C (wind chill -24 F/ -33 oh get the fuck over it, it scarcely matters at that point C) and forgetting where you parked your car?
All that, on the Sunday evening before exmass in the USA?
And said car being an almost pathologically nondescript make, model, and color, of a turn of the century sedan? (Seriously- one day try estimating the ratio of preteen bronze GM sedans on the road to all other vehicles combined. It should frighten you)?
Maybe the fact that you have to describe the vehicle to the search and rescue team in terms of your concave front passenger corner and attempt to draw your HRC bumpersticker in monotone to the slave- I mean, brave souls sent out from the store to go look for your vehicle because no I don't know my plate number and I don't have a damn key fob.
Maybe it's the fact that, even half an hour after getting home and finally regaining full feeling in my fingers for the first time in over 2 hours, I just can't get warm. As if!
I'm pretty sure it was the incessant questioning, "do you remember which entrance you parked at?"
Why yes! Indeed I do remember where I parked my car. I just needed someone to ply me with the right series of annoying questions first before affirming the obvious.
All that, on the Sunday evening before exmass in the USA?
And said car being an almost pathologically nondescript make, model, and color, of a turn of the century sedan? (Seriously- one day try estimating the ratio of preteen bronze GM sedans on the road to all other vehicles combined. It should frighten you)?
Maybe the fact that you have to describe the vehicle to the search and rescue team in terms of your concave front passenger corner and attempt to draw your HRC bumpersticker in monotone to the slave- I mean, brave souls sent out from the store to go look for your vehicle because no I don't know my plate number and I don't have a damn key fob.
Maybe it's the fact that, even half an hour after getting home and finally regaining full feeling in my fingers for the first time in over 2 hours, I just can't get warm. As if!
I'm pretty sure it was the incessant questioning, "do you remember which entrance you parked at?"
Why yes! Indeed I do remember where I parked my car. I just needed someone to ply me with the right series of annoying questions first before affirming the obvious.