Hungry children that we were, we trekked a mile and half to go to the Chinese restaurant nearby. At least this time I didn't go crazy on the "Curry Chicken"-fries and instead just got egg drop soup in order to comply with my liquid diet.
Just before we left, I whipped out my phone, brought up Endomondo, and prepared to get my exercise statistic addiction fed.
Then we walked outside. Into a fucking Midwestern hurricane.
|Fuck you, Midwest. I'll bring torrential rains and enough wind to plant fucking palm trees on your ass.|
WHAT THE FUCK?! I'm not in Miami yet!
I'm not supposed to be dealing with hurricane-caliber winds and rain!
I live in the middle of the fucking continent!
|There's no water for miles! How does this happen?!|
The boyfriend and I then proceeded to make our trek back to the auto-shop.
We trotted onwards:
Through that awful horizontal rain from too much wind that was blowing directly into our faces.
Through busy four-way stops - crossing streets looking like impoverished vagabonds.
The squeaky chirp-chirp-chirping of my flip-flops as I slowly tread water across concrete sidewalks and uneven pavements.
When we finally arrived at the auto-shop, we were the most pathetic creatures you've ever seen.
Clothes soaked, hair dripping, flip-flops slimy with too much water mixed with grimy puddle sediments, barely able to see through the rain drops scattered across my glasses.
We could have been in a "Save the Animals" commercial narrated by Sarah McLaughlin. Pathetic enough to make you cry until you pay up.
Unfortunately, we were not pathetic enough in order to get a steep discount.
The fat man behind the desk did have a hearty fat-man chuckle at our expense, though.
Ah, I see it's raining outside.
Um, yeah, just a bit....
A bientôt, lovelies.