January 19, 2005

Sarah: Your Muddy Buddy

Last week, it was raining almost nonstop for a few days. While at work, I was sent to a nearby postal drop box to send out some letters. The dropbox, set to be accessible from the sidewalk, was separated from the parking lot by a small, grassy divider. No, let me rephrase: the sidewalk and parking lot were seperated by the muddy slippery-slide of death, which it was my mission to traverse. I think you can see where this is going. The shortened version of my experience is that I COMPLETELY fell in the mud. My back, butt, and legs were covered in mud. I laid a grocery bag on my car seat, called work to let them know I was on my way home to change, and returned a while later. The experience was a little mortifying and a lot messy. The most amusing part of the story was the face of the man who passed me in his car just as I slipped. His face contorted in sympathetic pain, and his mouth puckered as if the very air he breathed was sour. Other observers offered these helpful comments: "You dropped one" and "Are you ok?!" and "MM-hfgh-mmm." The last comment is an approximation of what I heard, since the man was yelling, through the rain, from across the parking lot. Yesterday, M needed one of the employees to take mail to the same drop box, but automatically called upon another person, reasoning "Well, I need him to come back after he drops it off." Good. I didn't want to go anyway. I never want to go there again. So there.

Posted by sarah at January 19, 2005 12:19 PM

Should we speculate on what the man was yelling?

Posted by: lisa on January 20, 2005 11:58 AM

My money is on "I think there's something on your pants" or possibly "I like 'em dirty". Uh, ever regret something as soon as you type it?

Posted by: Sarah on January 20, 2005 11:24 PM

Hee. And also, ew.

Posted by: lisa on January 21, 2005 09:32 AM
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