Scylla’s most wonderful post concerning his few moments of terror with a Helium monstrosity my wife encouraged me to share a story along the same lines.
Back in the day the idea of torture was pretty much a given part of any criminal’s life…and for some who were not criminals as well. But the days of the guillotine and the rack and even firing squads are almost completely gone.
Except in my old house quite a few years back when my now ex wife was pregnant.
It seems that apart from being constantly hungry yet never really knowing what they want pregnant women also become hot and cold almost simultaneously…causing them extreme discomfort and the husband’s ear drums to hurt.
So enter in the “Oscillating Fan”. For those of you who are not familiar with this modern day version of the Chinese Water Torture I will try and explain. This a fan that can either do one of two things. Blow air direcly at one area…or move back and forth thus supplying an ample breeze effect through the whole room. It is this second part that I have a problem with.
Now these marvels of modern technology are absolutely terrific during a hot summer day…but at night the tables turn on you. Thus starts our story.
We had climbed into bed and snuggled in when she asked me to turn the fan on. I of course hoping for the direct line aimed right at her so that I only got a faint bit as the air would redirect off the wall. This simple request was of course denied and I set the fan into nighttime torture mode and laid back down.
At first this is nice…you lay there and the breeze hits you for a second…making you feel good…and then it goes away…then a little bit later it comes back…and then it goes away…etc. Ahh cool air…ahh cool air…and you are just happy untill you start to drift off to sleep…THEN…the exhilirating feeling of this breeze starts to become a deterrence to a normal sleep mode. You feel yourself slipping away…then whoosh…right in your face…drift off…whoosh…snapped back. Then your mind…which is half out of it…starts to try and time when the whoosh is coming. And everytime you think here it is…you are wrong…always two seconds after. So finally you bury your face in the covers but that is no good because it is too damn hot under there what with it being summer and the large pregnant woman beside you putting off doubly the body heat so you can’t take that but for just a few minutes and you push your head back out just to be hit by the breeze which feels good but you are tired and then the whole process starts over again and finally you leap out of bed and grab the damn thing and smash it against the wall which wakes up the wife with a mind curdling completely snap your ass into wide consciousness scream,
"WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
Too which you boldly yet sheepishly reply, “Tryng to figure out why this damn thing is broken”
(Who actually did NOT get divorced over the afformentioned story oddly enough)