A few days ago, I ran outside my windowless underground bunker and leaped into my vehicle at top speed. I slammed the car door behind me and fired ‘er up.
I do this to make it seem to my neighbors as though I’m continually being called to go handle an emergency of some kind. This, combined with the distant stare I affect in the hallway, gives me an air of harried professionalism. Like a cop in a crime drama, or Bo and Luke Duke.
This time when I slammed my door, instead of going “thunk!” and being closed it went “Slosh!”.
“Slosh?” I thought. I turned up the radio and rewound the song my stereo (Wayne Newton’s “Danke Schoen”) a bit to see if what I’d heard was a part of the background, but it wasn’t on the track. Then I opened the door and shut it again.
“Slosh!” my door repeated. It was definitely full of a liquid of some kind. Setting my mind weasels to the task, I deduced that it could be water. This was based on nature’s recent habit of dumping as much water as possible on the city of Atlanta at all times. It rains like a hot quilted sumbitch here lately… which is a lot.
I made a short video of the sloshing so everyone could enjoy it.
Now, I am not an engineer. Engineers are people who have spent a great deal of time learning how to understand the mechanical inner workings of the universe so that they don’t have to learn how to be easy to work with or well groomed. They are highly skilled and highly educated, and they can fix things.
They also moan a lot about not making as much money as salespeople, because they haven’t worked out that a working product is nice, but a selling product is better. The two are not necessarily the same thing. Microsoft has made a great heaping pile of money based on this principle.
So, not being as skilled or as educated as engineers, I just take things apart and put them back together about 80% as good as they were before, thereby introducing new, smaller problems into whatever I’ve just “fixed”. I set to the task of taking apart my door to investigate the sloshing.
You can see here that I jammed a dish towel down into the water to soak it up. I then removed and wrung out the water one towel’s worth at a time. It took a while, but I congratulated myself on an ingenious solution.
If I am ever crowned King of America, I will knight myself for this. I’m highly jealous of the British for being eligible for knighthood, like my personal hero Sir Ranulph Fiennes or the soon-to-be-knighted Patrick Stewart.
At any rate, I got my door back together mostly, which is good because I am driving to see my family today and I can’t have water sloshing all the way there. I don’t want it drowning out Wayne Newton.
That just wouldn’t be like Christmas.