Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Why I Hate Springfield, MO: Part Deux, The Incident With The Sheux

Once, I lived in Springfield, Missouri.  I had many adventures (if by "adventures" you mean "really sucky things that happened") which I documented here.  But one adventure sticks out more than all the rest (even the time I watched terrible commercials at the mall for money), and that is the time I had to trudge to class, soaking wet, and with one shoe.

Rain in MO is weird, yo.


You see,  like most miserable and homesick college kids, I would go home almost every weekend, ostensibly to do laundry somewhere where I did not have to fish someone's forgotten and moldy (at least I hope that was mold) tighty whiteys out of the washing machine before I could put my stuff in, but really because I missed my cat (and my family, I guess).

It had stormed all weekend, and I have terrible night vision, as a result, I decided to wait until Monday morning to make the two hour trek back to Springfield. 

I overslept a bit, and therefore sped back to Springfield post haste upon waking, but barely arrived in time to park my car at my apartment/dorm/hell hole  and walk to class.  Unfortunately, my rain boots and umbrella were in my apartment. Even more unfortunately...I locked and shut my car door with the keys still inside...

Don't act like you come here for the artwork.

Faced with no other option, I valiantly began to trudge to class in my pajamas and flip-flops.  However, I did not count on the fact that the campus of Southwest Missouri State had been designed to maximize flooding potential every time it rained.

SO THERE I WAS (every great story starts with SO THERE I WAS) crossing the busy street that separated the dorms and frat houses from the rest of campus when a TORRENTIAL CURRENT OF DEATH came racing down the street, straight towards me.
It was exactly like this, but more epic.

I stared in wide-eyed terror for approximately three seconds before I started running for the curb, but it was too late.  The water rushed past me, and as I took that final step towards the sidewalk, a fatal squicky suction noise resounded in the deep, carrying away with it's reverberations, my right flip-flop.

I lunged forwards to grab my rubbery friend before he could slip away, but alas!  The current proved too swift and my poor flip-flop was swept into the large gaping maw of a storm drain.


Disheartened and sopping wet, I made my way to French class, where I proceeded to form a puddle under my desk.  I'm pretty sure that's why I made a D in French that semester...it has nothing at all to do with my complete lack of memorization skills....

Pretty sure my French teacher hated me before this incident.