Friday, March 14, 2008

Don't Underestimate The Comfort of Dry Pants

Last night as we drove home from work, Mr. Zoom practiced his routine of scolding all the drivers on the road. It is one of those things that I've learned to expect from him. "Hey, that stick on the wheel? yeah, that's a TURN SIGNAL. USE IT." And his complaints are legitimate complaints.

If it weren't for his routine, poor Mr. Zoom would be forced to listen to my yammering all the way to and from wherever we are going. I'd yell at stuff too.

One of his favorite lines is "What?? Are you just learning to drive TODAY?" He pulled it out as we got stuck in an alleyway by a car that was sideways in the road. Right as Mr. Zoom got the last word out of his mouth, the offending car pulled around and on the back was a huge red sticker "STUDENT DRIVER".

I laughed so hard I thought I'd actually vomit.

I didn't know it at the time, but Mr. Zoom would soon have multiple chances to laugh at me just as hard.

This morning as we were driving to work, I was juggling my large coffee. I've done this a thousand times, and I've spilled a little of the coffee on myself a thousand and 45 times. Mr. Zoom took a corner - and not at any unreasonable speed or angle - and my coffee cup exploded. At least it felt that way. Neither one of us knows exactly what happened, but I was wearing the contents of an entire 16 oz coffee. And it hurt.

Mr. Zoom kept asking if I was ok. All I could say was "pull over. please. pull over. please. stop the car. please." I got out of the car and fought the urge to yank off all of my clothes. STEAM was coming off of both me and out of the car. As soon as I stood up, the burn let up and the cold set in. And the dripping from my jacket, shirt and pants began. I was not only hurting physically, but ego-y - too. I just stood there trying to figure out if I should just cry or try to hold it together.

I felt so bad for having accidentally spilled all that coffee in Mr. Zoom's car. I managed to get some on him too, but it was just his jacket. And if you'd seen the scale of this coffelanche, you'd realize that "just his jacket" is a miracle. I also coated the inside of the car he loves. Because he's the best husband in the world, he assured me that he didn't care about the spill in the car, only my well-being. And he didn't laugh at me out loud.

Mr. Zoom gathered me up and took me home to change. He cleaned up the car and let the office know we'd be late this morning. I spent the time soaking my pants and shirt in cold water. My jacket has to wait for the cleaners - so I laid it out on some plastic. Oh, did I mention that the shirt I was wearing during the wave of coffee was purchased LAST NIGHT? Yeah. Last night I had finally found the perfect shirt to wear with a stubborn color of brown pants I owned - pants I've been dying to find something to wear with for a long time.

After I finally got myself together, we were off to work again. Mr. Zoom handed me a coffee mug thing with a lid on it. I protested "but I don't want to use the retard cup!" You see, when I feel like I've done something stupid - I tend to say things that really are stupid. Mr. Zoom told me to shut it (in a very nice way) and drove me back to the coffee shop. The ladies filled my retard coffee cup for free after hearing my story. I wouldn't have even told them about it, except the shop is small enough and I'm in there every day that they wanted to know why I was back after having already been in that morning. And in different clothes.

As we drove to work, I realized that the money I had intended to use to buy my lunch at the office today was still inside the coffee soaked jacket at home. Start crying. Mr. Zoom gave me another $20 and tried to talk me away from the crying ledge. Then I realized that since we were going to the office late, I'd miss the lunch service that came in the morning to sell lunch to us. Start crying.

By 9:42 when we finally pulled into the office parking structure, I was feeling ok about it all. I had Mr. Zoom, I had alternative plans for obtaining lunch, I had lunch money with me, I had coffee in a cup, and my pants were warm and dry.


Keyser Soze said...

I do not understand the weird book.
I do understand about spilled java.
Mr. Zoom loves you like crazy.
NOBODY spills that much coffee in a car I love, cries, cries about the retard cup, cries about lunch money and everything else without getting a severe spanking AND NO LUNCH. I mean really! You are a lucky Zoom.

J said...

So I'm only now getting around to catching up with this. Mein Gott! I'm glad you had dry pants. And I bought myself a retard cup today...even though I never drive anywhere anymore...