Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Part II

I threw on the extra layers of clothing and embarked on my journey. The wind immediately cut through everything I was wearing and my legs started to go numb. This happened before I made it a block away from the apartment. I could have reasonably called off class for this, but I thought to myself, "gods be damned! These vocational scholars must have their quiz on MLA citation. If they aren't tested on how to cite a weekly periodical, how will I ever know that the esteemed writers of Time and Newsweek will get their proper nod from the academic world?" I pretty much thought that verbatim. And so I trudged on.

After about two blocks, my toes, which were protected only by thin dress socks and flimsy shoes, began to feel like they had rubber bands wrapped tightly around them. After three blocks, I stopped feeling that sensation altogether. That's when I got really scared. I started recalling everything I knew about frostbite and arctic survival, but as an English major, the only information I have comes from fictitious accounts. So... I ran like a madwoman for the next two blocks. Then I realized that "wait, this is exactly what the main character in Jack London's 'To Build a Fire' does right before he dies." See... and they say there are no real world applications for literary types.

Well, I immediately slowed down to a fast walk and regained some of the feeling in my feet by doing some toe calisthenics while trying not to think of a cold and icy death. My air passage ways constricted completely when I finally met a warm blast of air as I entered the school. I thought I was going to hyperventilate for a couple of minutes but I got my breathing under control just in time to teach class. Luckily, the walk back was about 20 degrees warmer and so felt like Spring Break 2008 in comparison to earlier that morning.

We let the truck sit all that night in hopes that it would thaw out by Saturday evening. Saturday rolled around and we took a walk down wretched Thrall armed with hammers, a screw driver, and a wrench. As I suspected, the truck had only thawed slightly. We then commenced banging and thrashing on the thick ice that surrounded our wheels. After a considerable amount of clobbering, we tried to move the truck but to no avail. And then in a stroke of genius, I said with icy wrench in hand, "You'd think this is just the type of occasion that our membership in AAA would come in handy." David quickly agreed and we called AAA to come liberate us from the icy shackles that had oppressed us for two days.

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