Daniel Boone Was a Man, But I’m Just a Girl Standing in Front of a Microwave Asking It to Love Her
Last night as I was about to make dinner, the power went out. It didn’t go out in the normal way, the normal way being one minute power, the next minute no power. Instead, the power went out, came back on for a second, went out, came back on for a second, went out, and stayed out. I’m guessing this is what it’s like when someone gets the chair. I looked out my window to see if everyone’s power was out or if it was just my house, but it was early enough in the evening that the streetlights weren’t on and people weren’t necessarily home from work yet or possibly they had just arrived home and still felt too beaten down to turn on a lamp. So although the houses I could see were dark, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. I put on my shoes and coat so I could go out and look down the block. I saw various neighbors coming out onto their front porches and looking around, like meerkats only exponentially less adorable, which settled the matter for me. Before I could turn to go inside, my newest neighbor, whom some of you may remember as Cameltoe, came out on her porch and yelled across the street to me in an overly loud and panicked fashion.
“IS YOUR POWER OUT!?!”
“Yes, it’s out all over. I’m going to call City Light now.”
Then her husband came out to join her and she yelled in his face, “EVERYONE’S POWER IS OUT!”
“Okay,” said the husband, who I’ve decided to call “Humpy,” for lack of a better name.
“I’M FREEZING!” said Cameltoe.
“Well, come inside then.”
Check out Humpy! Being all reasonable and shit.
I went in and called City Light and after about ten minutes of listening to recordings telling me that the food in my refrigerator would stay cold and the water in my hot water tank would stay hot if I stopped living my life, a person came on the line and informed me that they were aware of the outage and that the estimated repair time was six hours. No use arguing about it, so I thanked her and hung up.
I made a salami sandwich by flashlight and sat in my cold dark kitchen eating it and enjoying the pathos of the situation. I periodically would say, “oh, woe,” in a quiet voice in order to make it sadder. Then I made plans for the rest of the evening:
1. Put mustard-soiled knife in dishwasher.
2. Brush teeth.
3. Wash face.
4. Go to bed.
Suddenly the power came back on, five and half hours earlier than estimated. I had a bowl of hot soup and then revised my plans for the evening:
1. Put knife, pot, spoon, and bowl in dishwasher. Push start button.
2. Brush teeth.
3. Wash face.
4. Watch TV.
5. Go to bed.
So as you can see, an evening with electrical power is extremely different from an evening without it. Also, I am reminded once again that I would be a terrible pioneer, though I believe Cameltoe would probably be worse. The first little sign of Scarlet Fever and she’d be all, “I’M HOT! I’M BLIND!” Sharing a wagon with her would be annoying, I can tell.