When it Rains it Pours

When I started my new job in Georgia, I was given an office with a wall of windows. It is really 3 windows that take up about 95% of the wall. They placed my L shaped desk next to the window wall. Thus, I can always look out the window to the parking lot just by looking up. Because of my nice view, one of my first responsibilities was to inform everyone when it rained so that they could close their car windows. Unfortunately, I failed miserably at this task. This caused me to become worried because some of the other workers would yell at me, tell me that I was fired, and maybe even given the occasional threat. Now in the rainy season of Georgia, it rains every day at exactly 3:30. (Really I even tried to get an office pool going about the rain time, but no one would take my bet.) I tried to tell everyone just to close their windows at 3:29:59 but that seemed not to work.

Fearing the retaliation of my coworkers that insisted on having their windows rolled down, I set out to be sure to know what was going on outside. This was an unusual day. When I arrived all the cars that were normally parked at the end of the parking lot by my windows were parked farther away. I thought nothing of it besides thinking it was odd. All morning, I looked outside for rain. Even though I knew it would not rain until 3:30 that afternoon. But then I heard a noise. Normally it is very quite where I work. (except for the tap dancing elephants in the office above me.) The noise became louder and I realized that it was a helicopter. And then it just kept getting louder and louder. Pretty soon I could see the helicopter from my windows. And it kept getting closer and closer. I was intrigued by the helicopter and wondering where it was going. Then I realized it was coming right at me! It was landing in our little parking lot right next to my window.

I felt the windows bowing because of the large gusts of wind that the blades were creating as it got closer. BANG! BANG! BANG! I’m in a war zone! Holy cow! The blades started to shoot rocks from the parking lot at my wall of windows! All I could think of was that the glass was going to break and I would have a rock hit me, go through my frontal lobe and exit out the back of my skull. I wouldn’t even have a chance to yell, “I’ve been hit!” It would be all over for me. And then my lifeless body would be pelted with more rocks and glass shards from the walls of windows leaving my body unrecognizable.

They would surly cremate my body due to the massive physical damage and wanting to take me back to Iowa. The night before on the news was the trial of a woman who had started a crematorium and was not cremating the bodies. Large unmarked graves were dug up on her property with masses of bodies. O, I don’t want to die in Georgia!

O good, the helicopter had landed by this time. I have survived the attack and felt like sharing. So I walked into the other office with all the other employees and told them that it was not raining but there was a helicopter in the parking lot. They did not seem to care. Apparently it is okay for a helicopter to land on their cars just as long as it doesn’t rain in them.

Later I talked to my boss who also has a wall of windows right next to mine. She told me she worries about the blades getting caught in something and getting torn off and hitting the windows and building.

Now that helicopter still comes by ever once and a while, so I am not out of the clear yet. I fell like Radar from MASH. I am the poor little Iowan that hears the chopper first and tells people. And then I get to watch everyone run out and move their cars. (Of course I never park my car close because there is always the chance that a chopper will land next to it or on it.) So sadly, there is still a possibility of a lobotomy. So, please, if I should die at work, please, do not cremate me.