If you heard a noise at approximately 1:40 p.m. Sunday that sounded like a banshee, it wasn’t spirits hung over from Halloween. It was my reaction when the electricity went out.
As I have noted before in this-here space, I was not meant for pioneer living. Indeed, I consider enduring two minutes without WiFi to be roughing it.
Besides, I’ve had a stressful few days, weeks, months, and years, so I had planned to relax by watching football and enjoying homemade pizza. With my chores completed and football on the TV, I was fixing to prepare the pizza when the juice fizzled.
Hence, my ear-splitting shrieks.
I couldn’t do anything about football, but I could rectify the pizza situation. So, I put on clothes meant for public consumption and fought with the garage door. As anyone with a garage door knows — by the way, I lived in my house for years before learning this — if you need to access the door during an electrical outage, you have to pull the garage door rope so that you can open the door manually.
Anyway, I have more trouble pulling the rope than does anyone in the galaxy. Thankfully, it took only six minutes for me to accomplish a task that takes most mortals six seconds to complete.
Then, I drove to the Dollar General to call my mom, check to see if anyone had reported the outage, and order a pizza. From the number of cars in the parking lot, dozens of my neighbors had also driven to the store for service. Perhaps they were also ordering pizza.
I then drove to the pizza joint. After picking up the pizza, I ate in my car whilst checking football scores and obsessively updating the power company’s outage map.
You might be asking yourself, “Self, did she have to eat in her car? In a parking lot? On a Sunday afternoon? Was that her only option? To be mistaken for a stalker or a potential kidnapper? Didn’t she have anywhere else to go?”
Oh, I had other options, but when there’s an electrical outage, I’m not fit for human consumption. I can go from Karen Carpenter in “Top of the World” to Johnny Cash in “Hurt” in the amount of time it takes for the power to blink. So, yeah, when that happens, it’s best if I keep my irritable self away from humans.
After creeping people out in parking lots for an hour and a half, I was happy to see that the outage map finally showed that the numbers had decreased so I headed home. Lights greeted me in the neighborhood and I turned on football as soon as I entered my house.
I had to fight with the garage door again because — believe it or not — I have even more trouble putting the rope back where it’s supposed to be than I have pulling in down. Mercifully, the task didn’t take too long and I ended up having a relaxing Sunday and enjoying good pizza and good football.
This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.