“Write about an occasion when the weather changed your day’s plans.”
(This is a completely nonsensical story which I otherwise would have submitted to my English teacher, but for his new-found stodginess.)
(The story may not completely follow the topic; screw that, ya?)
Everytime I happen to catch a glimpse of a rainbow in the sky, I think of – just as the biblical Noah, among others, has done before – all the positive connotations associated with the rainbow, an example of which would be its God-intended, man-comprehended meaning; namely, that whatever prior precipitation has ceased to fall.
However, to say that the rainbow bears as much significance to me as it did Noah would be ludicrous; Noah’s ordeal obviously and unquestionably pales in comparison to mine, and he got worldwide fame for spending some time in a giant boat, while I… well, I will attempt to convey to you my own personal recollection. Forget I complained about the disparity in recognition; Noah was indeed a virtuous man anyway, deserving of whatever he might get.
Years ago, when I was about seventeen, I was preparing for a knock-up. Back in school, ‘knock-up’ was code- at least amongst many people in my form – for running around the nearest city square in underwear, while simultaneously shouting out moronic catchphrases and half-baked exclamations. We used the word ‘knock-up’ to give teachers and other students the impression that we were at some point going to commit the far lesser sin of beating people up.
Anyway, I had gotten dressed up in my newest Triumph man-thong, applied sufficient sunblock to my pasty white structural casing, and prepared an entire lexicon of idiotic things to bellow during the would-be knock-up. I still recall that at the point where I had left my house, I had not foreseen what was to happen afterwards.
About five minutes after exiting my place of residence, I spotted two of my friends at the convenience store nearby my flat. Presuming they were buying Red Bull or something similar, I decided to let them be for the next couple of moments. However, they let it be known that all they were doing was waiting for yours truly in normal ‘John and Marc’ fashion, by running over to me, giving me a bear hug and a sloppy kiss, and yelling out “Andrewwwwww!!”. Anyway, after the courtesies, the three of us made our way to the city square, which was fifteen minutes’ walking distance from the convenience store. Our walk in that particular direction was not to last for much longer, however, as the clouds, which evidently had been as ominous as they seemed to us then for quite some time, buckled under their own weight.
The little drizzle that we experienced lasted for all of one minute; the rain got far heavier afterwards. About three minutes after we had set off for the square, people all around were seeking shelter from what was generally regarded as a full-fledged thunderstorm. The three of us, stupefied at the sudden downpour, nevertheless ran for cover. Panting like mutts, we finally reached a pavilion. Just as we were about to settle down, I caught a member of the public gawking at my lower body. I did not take long to figure out why; the water had imbued my man-thong with temporary translucent properties! Soon, people all around were staring hard at my main source of entertainment and all the hair above it. Even John and Marc could not stifle their sissy giggles, the buggers.
I was, for the next hour or so, the butt of jokes amongst the dozen or so people under the comforting reach of that pavilion. By then even my friends had started to make their own wisecracks about my manhood. As I saw and heard the people around me, including John and Marc, laughing their heads off, at me, I felt an acute sense of embarrassment. Every jibe they cracked, every syllable that remotely resembled mirthful noise, represented a stab in my fragile heart.
I had to endure the taunts for about an hour, until finally the rain stopped. The relief I felt upon realising that the rain had ended cannot be described, even with the most superlative of superlatives. I was finally free from my torturous existence under the pavilion! What was meant to be a place of refuge and shelter had for me turned into something akin to a jail cell. As civil defence officers gave us evacuation instructions, I, as quickly as I could, made my way back home. John and Marc tried to say sorry to me; I ignored their insincere gobbledegook. As I was walking back to my abode, I could not help but notice a rainbow arcing across the blue-again sky. I smiled to myself.
At home, I got out a magazine, and read it until night-time. So as evidenced from my narration, my plans for the day were starkly altered thanks to the weather.
(THE END)
