The task this week was to used 500 (ish-I'm an English Major) words to tell the story that begins:
“After class I was sitting in the school bathroom and suddenly, the lights go off.”
I'm sure Michelle has already finished in true form, so there you have it.
Ready? on your mark, get set, GO.
After class I was sitting in the school bathroom and suddenly, the lights go off. And I’m thinking, ok use problem solving skills, this could mean one of the following things: 1) Moaning Myrtle got crafty and flipped the switch. 2) Someone is going to be awarded the jackass of the day trophy. 3) The power is out due to the torrential storm. 4) My mind powers are working. (not that I was thinking-turn off the lights, but that’s definitely what I was thinking this morning when my mom flipped on the flood lights pointed at my face after my alarm went off. Maybe it’s like some sort of delayed reaction.) (This will require me to also practice seeing into the future…. Poop.)
But the real question is, HOW AWKWARD IS THIS?! Someone/weather gods, literally caught me with my pants around my ankles, and I’m thinking, well, I thought that was a euphemism old men use at Lutheran brunches to make their hunting stories sound adventurous. So now, what do I do? Quite frankly (my dear I don’t give a damn) I am not so familiar with this bathroom. And you know how you usually use the same bathroom around the same time because you naturally develop some sort of pattern to your otherwise chaotic life? Well, I deviated from this pattern and it came back to bite me in the ass.
Maybe I should explain. There’s a real reason why I’m in the third floor of the library. And I’m only slightly embarrassed to say that I followed my heart and not my head. Cupid has good aim, and he knows that I’m easily persuaded to do things that look smart, but aren’t. The reason that I came all the way up these stairs is that I found out that the “Plan to be Rich Men of America” meeting goes on here every Thursday. Well, you don’t just chintz on that sort of information, so I put on my smart glasses, a pencil skirt, and a scarf and enough make up to look intellectual, but casual, and curled up on the most prominent study chair reading a work of Russian literature I don’t understand (it was in Russian, ok?). Now this isn’t really an official club on campus, but damn, do they attract the right sorts of men-the kinds I’m interested in. Needless to say, those multiple cups of tea that I brought along with me eventually had to go somewhere other than my bladder.
And that brings you up to speed.
So here are the solutions: 1) play it casual and fumble around in the dark until I find the door, all the while keeping it calm, cool, and collected. 2) Scream for help and hope that one of the most attractive men of the PRMA comes to my rescue. 3) Take a nap (don’t judge me). 4) Draw enough attention to myself so that someone else has a good blog post to write.
Which do you think I actually did?