I can do it all by myself!
Main Man and I went straight to our favourite Moroccan restaurant after work on Friday. We had some great food - as usual - and let the pressures of the week evaporate.
The weather had deteriorated steadily during the week, and by Friday evening, it was about -1 C and pissing down with rain. I had on my comfy Columbia jacket. The inner shell is soft polar fleece, and the outer shell is windproof and waterproof. These two sections can be worn separately, or zipped together to make one jacket.
I had worn them together, but hadn't bothered to zip-connect them. Essentially, I was wearing two separate jackets. This only meant that I had to first zip the polar fleece part, and then zip up the outer shell. Easy as pie.
Or so you'd think...
After our meal, as we hovered next to the table to put on our jackets, I began to experience some technical difficulties. Main Man, of course, was ready within seconds. I wasn't so lucky.
First, I put my purse down on the corner of the table. Then I reached down to zip up the outer shell of my jacket. It wasn't working. I could get the two zipper parts to meet, but then I couldn't lift it up. It was stuck.
The bottom of my jacket sits just below my butt line. So in order to get a better look at what the problem was with the zipper, I had to stretch my neck way down, and push my pelvis up and forward.
I was at it for so long, completely focused on getting the zipper to work, that I failed to notice that my tongue was now sticking out... exactly like a kid who's fully concentrated on colouring within the lines.
Main Man was still standing patiently next to me, watching all of this unfold.
Next came the purse situation. I noticed it was beginning to teeter towards the side of the table. So I shot my hip towards it to block its fall.
So just to recap... neck down and forward, pelvis forward and up, hip lifted to one side, tongue sticking out. I was the picture of authority and confidence.
I finally get the zipper to connect. It wasn't until I started to pull it up that I realized I had completely forgotten to zip up the polar fleece first. But there was no way in hell I was going to disconnect the outer shell zipper... not after all of THAT. So I did what anyone else in my situation would do (obviously): I reached underneath the outer shell, and attempted to blindly zip the fleece. It took several awkward attempts, and by then, we had the full attention of the other restaurant patrons. Even the cook had stepped from behind the counter for a better view.
It was at that moment that Main Man finally spoke up. In a very calm, patient, and loving voice, he offered these helpful words:
"See, this is why we could never be on the Amazing Race."
The weather had deteriorated steadily during the week, and by Friday evening, it was about -1 C and pissing down with rain. I had on my comfy Columbia jacket. The inner shell is soft polar fleece, and the outer shell is windproof and waterproof. These two sections can be worn separately, or zipped together to make one jacket.
I had worn them together, but hadn't bothered to zip-connect them. Essentially, I was wearing two separate jackets. This only meant that I had to first zip the polar fleece part, and then zip up the outer shell. Easy as pie.
Or so you'd think...
After our meal, as we hovered next to the table to put on our jackets, I began to experience some technical difficulties. Main Man, of course, was ready within seconds. I wasn't so lucky.
First, I put my purse down on the corner of the table. Then I reached down to zip up the outer shell of my jacket. It wasn't working. I could get the two zipper parts to meet, but then I couldn't lift it up. It was stuck.
The bottom of my jacket sits just below my butt line. So in order to get a better look at what the problem was with the zipper, I had to stretch my neck way down, and push my pelvis up and forward.
I was at it for so long, completely focused on getting the zipper to work, that I failed to notice that my tongue was now sticking out... exactly like a kid who's fully concentrated on colouring within the lines.
Main Man was still standing patiently next to me, watching all of this unfold.
Next came the purse situation. I noticed it was beginning to teeter towards the side of the table. So I shot my hip towards it to block its fall.
So just to recap... neck down and forward, pelvis forward and up, hip lifted to one side, tongue sticking out. I was the picture of authority and confidence.
I finally get the zipper to connect. It wasn't until I started to pull it up that I realized I had completely forgotten to zip up the polar fleece first. But there was no way in hell I was going to disconnect the outer shell zipper... not after all of THAT. So I did what anyone else in my situation would do (obviously): I reached underneath the outer shell, and attempted to blindly zip the fleece. It took several awkward attempts, and by then, we had the full attention of the other restaurant patrons. Even the cook had stepped from behind the counter for a better view.
It was at that moment that Main Man finally spoke up. In a very calm, patient, and loving voice, he offered these helpful words:
"See, this is why we could never be on the Amazing Race."
posted by Berry at 9:37 AM
4 Comments:
HAHAHAHAHAHA, excellent reply.
BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!
Oh, the humanity!
I just wrote to Dale asking him if he watched the latest Amazing Race episode (do you watch it? it's so dreadful, I can't stop watching!) and about those creeps at the tomato thing (yeah, which creeps? They're all jerks!) and then he sent me a link to your post....I'm just dying! You made the image come alive in my mind. Thanks...I think... ;)
Oh, and maybe you and Main Man couldn't make it to Amazing Race but probably because you guys don't scream all disrespectfully to each other, that seems to be a requirement...(but maybe you do scream at each other, write a post about it...).
Also, I've changed over to the Beta version, and I've had no problems so far. I guess you could always copy over your current blog somewhere so that if you don't like the beta version you could start over? I don't know...
Damn right!... I start watching A.R. when they get down to about 6 teams. Main Man refuses to watch it because of scenes like the tomato pile screaming & crying bit. He feels it's exploitation... I think it's just plain fun! (Hey, if you might walk away with a million bucks, you had better entertain me good!)
As for switching to Beta, I'm so technically inept that I have no idea how I could possibly save my blog somewhere. Seriously. I need someone to hold my hand through these things!
I'll hold it but only if Main Man's not around. How about those losers who won?
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