Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Do The British Thing

I suppose it's about time I mentioned it, I've been avoiding the subject because it's so freaking predictable but last night was ridiculous and so I feel to ignore it any more would be to admit I've given the weather its very own super injunction.

Last night I tried to get on the tube at Oxford Circus in a cloudburst. This is like Ron Jeremy trying to take the virginity of a pygmy gerbil. You would have thought the rain could have only lubricated the people trying to shuffle into the world's worst amusement park - it did nothing to ease the congestion. I lost most of the hair on the right hand side of my head to an over zealous woman with an umbrella who was insisting on using it to funnel water into my ear. Just hold the damn thing higher you pesky miser; from one midget to another, it doesn't matter how high you are - so long as the umbrella is above you it will stop the downward motion of the rain. Arms have hinges, useful buggers called elbows, just extend these and you will find umbrellic elevation the like of which you have never seen.

After losing my temper with his woman and descending into the tube I realised that the problem was only going to get worse when I saw any kind of media and was inundated with reports on how terrible the weather was. Because it might interrupt the tennis. Sweet mother of pearl I just couldn't care less. There are far worse things that excess rain can do than ruin some grunting testeroid's attempt to be champion of the most repetitive sport in existence. Tennis is one hell of an endurance sport - just play it in the rain, it'll keep you cool and we'll all be able to ogle wet breasts/biceps.

Of course, the problem is that it is too slippy. Ah, curses to you slippy!

I have decided that the problem with rain isn't the fact that it falls. No, the act of rain is rarely the plaguing factor of this weather type. The issue is absorption. This is a fact. Actually getting wet because of the skyfall is no issue; it's the lingering wet on the floor which causes all the angst. so really, what we should be mad about is that our country is not more absorbant; not that it rains all the time.

What we need are strategic sponge implants in the floor, or paving slabs that can suck up the water and run it in irrigation channels to areas where it's needed. I'm sure East Anglia is always clamouring for water. Or reasons to live there, one or the other.

If we hadn't covered most of the damned thing in concrete we might not have such an issue. If there was no concrete, we could get away without shoes because we'd be walking on grass. Then, when it rained, there would be absorption and we wouldn't have to worry about ruining our shoes and getting rising damp from the surface water. Rising damp is the bane of every "petite" person's existence. Just because I am short doesn't mean I have a teeny weeny waist, so, thanks for laying out a section of clothes specially for me so that the shop geography points out my special needs like a badge of honour, but I am still going to have to buy regular jeans. Then, when I have bought my regular jeans I'm either going to have to sew them up and pretend I wanted the raggedy "I'm a Textiles Student Look", or I will have to put up with rising damp. Sometimes rising damp can go all the way up to the knees. If I end up with rheumatism there could be many people who'll need a lawyer... starting with whoever never taught me to sew properly...

Our skin is (miraculously) very waterproof generally, unless you have bucket pores and are in danger of waterlogging. What we're actually worried about in the rain is either slipping, or our clothes getting wet because then they will need washing and drying. So, the solution to making rain an unproblem is simple; get naked and go to a field.

Does anyone have a spare Glastonbury ticket?

No comments:

Post a Comment