Tuesday, June 14, 2005

“Another day, another dollar–” began my lame attempt at consoling a co-worker after a rough day.

He started laughing.

“–pried from the eyelids of poor underage children in the name of the Internet,” I finished.

There. Much better. Have you noticed how glum weather can make a bad day suicidal, whereas a clear afternoon with near-vibrant colors can bring you home? Today started gray and ended green, but the solid gold and the silver lining was the consistent warmth.

One image lodged firmly in my memory involves an anecdote spun by a girl in elementary school, and summer still brings this story to mind. We didn’t get along, I seem to recall, and in fact we despised each other, so this may color the retelling. Anyway, this fat-ass chick found herself stuck under a pool tarp one day and, in a novel example of problem-solving gone wrong, tried to drink all the water.

“I don’t think sharing time ever started, bitch!” was what I would’ve said, had I the vocabulary.

Instead, I probably chuckled as I surmised that chlorine was, according to the ample visual evidence, very nutritious.

Summer also marks the season when people give up responsible driving for 120-odd days. I drive like a dick occasionally, but there are two skills I’ve yet to master: ignoring those mysterious yellow lines and completely forgetting my turn signals.

This first skill is a doozy. Either you’re sampling two lanes and preventing any cars from passing, or you’re a moving physics experiment, ready to demonstrate the wonders of inelastic collisions. In the span of three weeks, I’ve avoided two morons who traded depth perception for an overweening love of head-on crashes. New bumper sticker idea!

I’m thinking along the lines of STAY THE FUCK IN YOUR LANE.

Don’t you love it when the car in front of you stops for no apparent reason? You graciously say, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me give you some space as I try to guess which direction you’re turning, or whether you’re turning at all.” These drivers should look into replacing their turn signals with gnomes, matching gnomes filled with marzipan and loathing.

It’s been an informative and therapeutic evening, dear reader. The key to a great summer? Don’t drink the pool.