If there is one thing the Midwest is known for, it’s for the topsy turvy weather. Take the past 48 hours for example. When I awoke yesterday, there was 2″ of snow on the ground. Today it was a high of 65 with a chance of tornadoes.
If you are fortunate enough to live somewhere that doesn’t encounter tornadoes, you’re lucky. Tornado threats have been a part of my entire life. The moment you hear tornado sirens, you need to book it for the basement. Like Lieutenant Dan during the storm scene of Forest Gump where he’s like, “come and get me mother fucker!” My husband sits calmly in the living room while my sons and I are in the basement.
The Scary Afternoon
At 4:55 I checked the radar. If I hauled ass, I could beat the storm home. I was getting my hair did at my neighbor’s house and had to be there by 6. Afterall, I was going to L.A. and if I couldn’t be a size 0, at least my hair could look nice. I had to make 1 stop on my way home and that was to the bank to get cash out for my friend who was doing my hair.
At 5 P.M. I jumped up from my desk and I didn’t just walk, I ran to my car.
“Have a good evening,” I hollered over to a co-worker in the parking lot as I ran to my Corolla. If I could just put enough space between me and the tornado, we would be good.
For 30 minutes, I drove East like a bat out of hell. I was riding people’s asses and giving them dirty looks as they took their sweet ass time. Did they not see what was coming from the West? This isn’t a Sunday drive grandpa! To give you an idea of what I was running from, here is a brief YouTube video showing a little of the aftermath:
In a record 35 minutes later and with the tornado sirens now going off, I arrived at the bank. I flung open the door and was pleased to find I was the sole customer. The elevator music played against my sense of urgency but that didn’t stop me from filling out a deposit ticket. I then took my place in the non-existent line….and waited….and waited….and waited.
It didn’t occur to the 2 female employees, attempting to figure something out on a monitor that A. there was a customer waiting for absolutely no reason or that B. there was a possible tornado in the area. Nope, they just took their sweet ass time.
“Mmmhmmm…..mmhhmmm…..yes. No, not that one,” I heard the borderline Amish young lady say, addressing the seated middle-aged woman as they peered into their monitor. I kept looking out the glass door as the sky became darker. By now, several employees of the Greek restaurant in the strip mall were outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the lighting and maybe even a funnel cloud.
Because I was obviously being ignored, I grabbed a dum-dum sucker out of little cup on the counter, normally reserved for all patrons age 6 and under. This dum-dum sucker served 2 purposes. A. if I were going to be ignored, fuck’em, I was going to get a sucker out of it and B. I dragged it slowly across the edge of the counter, hoping to make enough vibration, just in case they were actually 2 blind, deaf mutes.
The Home Stretch
After the bank, I jumped in my car and had just 10 miles left. It was hailing and lightening now.
“I am not dying tonight. That bitch is not going to be the reason I die tonight.” This was my mantra as I weaved in and out of lanes, just a mile from the interstate.
Next, I was having an imaginary conversation with the SUV in front of me who was going 25 mph in a 50 mph. I was just a few yards from the freeway and couldn’t pass him, for fear of missing the on ramp.
“Do you understand what is over there?” I screamed at the back of his car while pointing to the West. His windows were tinted so if he had passengers that were looking at me, I’m sure I just looked like I was having a turret episode.
I finally managed to get on the freeway and almost out run the storm. At my exit, the 1 lane feeds into 2 then eventually feeds back into 1. No one else was going to slow me down so I made a point to choose the lane next to a utility truck. My game plan was when the light turned green, I would speed up, pass the truck and get in front of him in his lane since my lane was the one that ended.
This ass hole knew exactly what I was doing and just to be a dick, he made it a point to align his truck with my car so I couldn’t pass.
“Go right ahead ass hole. Be my guest,” I said as I let go of my steering wheel to fling my arms open dramatically while giving him a death look.
I eloquently proceeded to give him the bird while reading the company name on the back of his truck as he passed. I made a mental note to never use Miller Heating and Cooling.
So that is that. I’m alive and now have beautiful hair. After reading this I think I’ve realized one thing, I may have some road rage issues. Oh wait, no…..it’s not that. I was hangry from 5 to 6. I just realized.