So yesterday morning before heading out for the day, I made sure I had everything I’d need. I was running low on supplies for my coffee mess, so I had an unopened half gallon of ½ and ½ and a pound of coffee beans to take into work. I also had my ID to get onto the station and I had some paperwork I was working on.
Being relatively new to my job, my main mission every day is to get my job done and keep my head down. I want no undue attention brought upon myself – at least until August when my first year’s probation has expired. I’ve got my own coffee pot so I don’t have to head down to the command wing every time I want a cup o’ Joe. I don’t need the XO or skipper knowing every time I grab a refill.
I was running a bit behind, so I hadn’t warmed up the SUV. I kissed MrsChief good-bye, grabbed my stuff, headed out, jumped in the driver’s seat, set my stuff on the passenger’s seat, started the engine and backed down the driveway.
My drive to work isn’t too long… only about 10 miles. Just enough time to listen to the news, and review in my head what I need to get done that day before I hit the Main Gate.
As I accelerated onto the main highway, I heard something fall over on the passenger seat then… suddenly… something ricocheted off the inside roof of my car, past my nose, bounced off the driver’s window and fell at my feet.
Something also splashed on my face.
After regaining control of the car (I’d instinctively ducked), I looked over and saw the ½ and ½ gurgling over the side of the passenger seat into the door panel! I quickly grabbed the carton which was on its side, spout up to staunch the flow of creamy, white goodness.
Now, I don’t know who the brain trust is that came up with screw-on caps for milk cartons, but I’d like to get ‘em alone in a room for about a half hour with a lead pipe.
I’m heading down the road at about 60 miles an hour, steering wheel in one hand, an open carton of ½ and ½ in the other. There’s white spatter across the inside of the windshield and I hear an unsettling “sloshing” from the passenger side floorboard.
This is NOT good.
I pull over to the side of the highway and come to a stop. I bend down and pick up the plastic screw cap and put it back on the carton. “How the hell did that happen?,” I wonder. There’s usually a seal on the spout beneath the cap.
Dimly I recall the previous evening. My son was drinking a mug of hot chocolate before I’d gone to bed! Had he, I asked myself, opened MY ½ and ½ and removed its protective seal to make his cocoa more rich and then not put the cap back on properly (The caps and lids are made of a soft plastic and it is really easy to cross thread the cap when you screw it on… thanks again brain trust!)?
I set the carton back on the seat and begin damage assessment. The paperwork and coffee seem fine. There’s cream all over the side of the door, the window, the windshield, the dashboard and spatter all over the seat, the roof and myself. There seems to be about a pint down on the floor. I’ve got nothing to clean this up with in the car.
I decide to just continue to head to work as quickly as possible and get the initial clean up done in the parking lot outside my building.
I pull back onto the road, bitching to myself, and make it to the station un-eventfully. As I approach the gate guard, I reach over to the passenger seat to grab my ID.
It’s not there!
As I pull abreast of the guard, I see it on the floor. I lean over, quickly grab it and thrust it out the window to him…
“So… bad morning, huh?” he says before doubling over in laughter. Now I consider myself to be a man of the world. I’ve seen many, many things. But I’d never seen a guard, dressed in camouflage, with a sidearm and rifle, wearing a flak jacket and Kevlar helmet actually doubled over in laughter.
I switched my gaze from the guard to my ID… my sodden, dripping ID. Thankfully, after sticking his head into the car and quickly looking around, he motions me through, guffawing all the while.
I make it to my building, grab my stuff and head into the office. No one was there yet. I prefer to be the first one in and last one out. Again it shows dedication and doesn’t draw undue attention to me.
I rush into my office, set my stuff down, grab a handful of paper towels and head back out to the lot. I wanna get this cleaned up fast, before the rest of my coworkers begin arriving. I don’t wanna have to explain this to ‘em.
I open the passenger door and ½ and ½ pours onto the ground. Not good.
I wipe down the headliner and windshield. I wipe down the dashboard. I begin soaking up what is left on the passenger seat.
Military issue paper towels suck… rather they don’t suck. The have the same absorbency potential as granite. I realized I’d need more paper towels to do even a cursory clean up. As I backed out of the car, I looked at the ground and saw that the liquid which fell out of the car when I opened the door and frozen to the ground! This is getting worse and worse!
I run back inside, grab some more towels. Head back outside. Open the door again… more cream pours out… now where the hell did that come from?!!
Don’t worry about it now. I just want to get as much cleaned up as quickly as possible before anyone shows up. I grab handfuls of paper towels and begin soaking up the mess in the floorboards and beneath the seat. I may need more towels… shit.
OK, I decide to leave those towels to give them some time to do some absorbing. I refocus on the door jamb and sill. I do a pretty good job of getting that cleaned up. Good enough for now anyway.
I slam the door, planning to head in to get my day started. I realize I left a bunch of damp towels on the passenger seat. I open the door again and even more cream pours out!
Where in the fuck is that coming from? The sill of the door is soaked and dripping again and I just flippin’ wiped that up!
I carefully get down on my knees and bend down to look at the inside of the door. There’s a rubber gasket to keep water and wind out of the car. I touch it… it’s not solid rubber. It’s a fricken’ SPONGE! And it’s literally filled with ½ and ½! When I closed the door, the jam squeezed out more of the creamy, white goodness.
So, again kneeling on the ground (being careful not to kneel in the now frozen ice cream) I proceed to use my fingers to squeeze out as much of the ½ and ½ as possible. It’s all over my hands and dripping then freezing on the ground…
“A-hem.”
I turn my head. And there standing in all his khaki-uniformed glory is the piece de résistance – my XO. You must remember him. He’s the guy to whom I had to prove that “gerrymander” was a real word.
“So… got a little problem this morning, do ya?”
“Well, yes, Commander Obvious, I am having a bit of a problem. Fuck you very much asshole,” I think to myself.
“Come see me in my office when you get this situation… uh… situated. I want to talk about the Senator’s visit on Friday,” he tells me. He turns and walks away with not another word said. He didn’t even laugh. How could you not laugh?
When I went to his office later that morning he didn’t even mention the incident – just went along business as usual. I think he’s a cyborg. Every other person who works in my building had to stop in to ask what all that “frozen white stuff” was around my car.
Given all that, my week has got to be better from here on out…