Okay, here goes. The goal with this piece is to get through the entire thing without mentioning what a steaming pile of bullshit Valentine’s Day is.
Uhh, starting now.
Last night, parts of Tampa received below-freezing temperatures. Now, I’m not sure what impact this had on the citrus industry across the state. Nor am I sure how this has affected the winter tourism. Nor am I sure what this means for all of our tomato crops. But I can tell you what it means to me. It means that I’ve seen way too many outdoor plants wrapped in blankets, and it means that I had the following conversation with my girl this morning:
Amy: Wow, what’s all that icy stuff on my car?
Me: It’s called frost.
Amy: Do I need to do something to my car to help it?
Me: Yeah. Warm up the engine.
Amy: That’s it.
Me: That’s it.
Ahh, Florida.
(Oh yeah, and to the few of you who actually made it through my running diary: it didn’t snow yesterday. I know, I know. I’m sad, too.)
I’ve been watching The Weather Channel a lot more than usual (read: at all) and it got me thinking. If I were a weatherman, I think I’d have to play at least one practical joke a year on the people of my town. I’d be all like, “And tomorrow’s gonna be bright and sunny,” and then the next day would be all rainy and dreary and I’d be all like, “suckers” and the TV station would be all like, “you’re fired” and I’d be all like, “why?” and they’d be all like, “we’re tired of hearing you say ‘like’ over and over again. You sound like a dumbass.” And I’d be all like, “Fuck you. We fight to the death.” And then we’d all like fight to the death and stuff. And that would be like totally awesome. Tell me it wouldn’t. Go on, tell me. You like, know you totally can’t. It’s that awesome. And you like, know it.
According to all the local newspapers, this morning was the coldest Tampa morning in just under 10 years. If you’re scoring at home (and I know you are), I’ve lived through Tampa’s busiest hurricane season, its coldest morning, its driest year (thanks to El Nino, an actual swamp caught fire), its only Super Bowl, its first female rapist (actually, that was kind of fun) and its only Stanley Cup Victory. And I have to say, of all those events, the coldest morning thing bothers me the most. I’ve said it before and I’m typing it now: ah, the humanity.
Anyway, I hope this crapfest of a holiday doesn’t hold you back on this frigid ass day (damn, I almost made it).
Happy Valentine’s Day everyone (and yes Amy, that counts as your gift).