The Game

I like to play a game. It's called going for a cigerette in Northern B.C. when the weather is thirty below. To begin the game, I walk outside after coating myself with a cumbersome five layers of clothing, that make me feel like five year old in a snow suit with immobile joints. I work hard to pull on my shoes and get outside and light my cigerette. My right thumb (which I broke masturbating four years ago) goes completely numb almost instantly. After smoking about half the cigerette I realize my right hand is frozen so I switch hands and put against my stomach or in my pocket for warmth. Soon I find that my left hand has become nearly as numb as my right and my right is not warming within the depths of my pocket.

It's now that I realize that I haven't plugged in my car for the night so I head over to the car. I decide that I should pull the plastic cover off of the cord, but struggle with it, undoubtedly trying to hold the cigerette between my lips which sends smoke into my eyes. Realizing that this task will be impossible unless I have the use of my eyes and both of my uncirculated hands, I put the cigerette on whatever part of the ground seems to be the least capable of making it too wet to burn.

Now is probably a good time to mention that I have no qualms with putting my cigerette on the filthy ground. Here are my reasons for thinking this is an acceptable thing to do A.)Any and all germs that would normally be present on the dirty driveway have been killed by the terrifically cold weather, B.) Smokers are already purposely inhaling something into their lungs that will give them cancer and eventually kill them so therefore do not fear any candy ass germs that might be lurking around, and C.) It's too fucking cold to spend time thinking of a better way to solve this problem so by default this is the only option, but I digress.

The point is I spend nearly three minutes struggling with this devious little plug cover until I finally free it. I then run to the house and grab the nearest extension cord only to realize that it's the one that is not long enough to reach my car which is parked at the back of the driveway. So I pick up my still burning cigerette off the ground (so as not to waste my precious nicotine) and head back to grab the other cord which will assuredly unplug from the wall when I finally struggle to make it reach my car. After a few jogs to and from the car trying to untangle the vindictive cord which, I personally think is hell bent on making my life inconvenient, I finally succeed in getting the job done.

I run to the house, winded because I've been holding the cigerette in my mouth for half the time I've been outside, and plunge myself into the warmth of house. The only analogy I have for the feeling I have after this type of ordeal is that I feel as if I've just been assaulted and raped by the weather. It's a confusing an unpleasant feeling. So, I tear off my layers of cold coats, vests, and sweaters as if they're coated in sulfuric acid that's just about to burn through to my skin and run to the warmth of my room.

This just happened to me only moments before I wrote this post. You may think this is a pointless and trivial rant, but this happens to me upwards of twice a day depending on how often my mom or sisters moves my car and forget to plug it in again. I guess there are worse things to happen to person, but it obviously pissed me off enough to rant for this long.

Moral of the story: fuck the weather.