Of Milkshakes and Men

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A humorous glance at male peculiarity.
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The other day I learned something that I found really interesting about myself.

I was standing on the front porch, listening to thunder rumbling closer and smelling rain in the air, as I happen to love storms. I was just standing there, smoking a cigarette, when I heard the little "Doo-doodedado-dedo-dedo -da-dedade-dedoo-doo!" chiming of Mr Softy.

That's what our local ice cream van is named. Fortunately, it's generally run by women, so no self-esteem issues come into play.

Anyway, I stood there, watching the ice cream van come down the street and I thought, "Do I feel like having a milkshake?"

I wasn't sure. That's important, so I want to make specific note that I was on the fence and indecisive as to weather I was in fact in the mood for a milkshake. But, it had been one of those just-starting-summer-in-earnest days, where it catches you flatfooted with temperatures you're not prepared for, even if it's not quite hot, per se. So, I decided, more as a sort of seasonal starting summer thing,"What the hell, why not? I'm gonna have a chocolate shake."

In the process of making my decision, though, the rain had started. It fell just lightly, at first, but by the time I'd made my way halfway down the block to where Mr. Softy had stopped and his line started, it was a pretty healthy patter.

As I said, I happen to like storms, and I also rather like rain, especially in the summer. So, this wouldn't be so much of a problem. Except it's early summer, and the storm seemed to come out of the north.

So, it wasn't quite like one of those old NesTea commercials where the sweaty people in the street are all going "Ahhh, that rain is so refreshing on a hot day!" It was actually a very unpleasantly cold rain. I'd say it was more reminiscent of Louis Gosset Jr. in "An Officer and a Gentleman" with a water-hose saying "You don't want that chocolate shake bad enough, do you, boy?" kinda rains.

But, the line was moving and I cowboyed-up and stuck it out. And then it started raining harder. Really hard, as in water running over my boots in the street hard. But I was already wet, and getting accustomed to the cold, so still, I persevered.

Then I looked up at the sky. Lightning was flashing from big black clouds in that biblical way that was God saying, "I really don't think you want this chocolate shake that badly."

With a loud crack of thunder, and with the newspaper headline "Wanna-be writer incinerated by lightning in ice-cream truck line" flashing in my mind, I stood there, and the voice of 'I AM' said unto me;

"Look, Josh. I'm really not screwing around, here. I'm about to make it rain as hard as I possibly freaking can. In fact, I'm going to do my best to make a flood to wash Mr. Softy into the local drink for his sins. So, you had better get to shelter."

I looked up once again after mopping the water away from my eyes and could see the sheets of rain falling darkly against the clouds, now and then flashing, lit by the flares of lightning and the thunder reverberated making my chest vibrate. So, I replied unto the Ancient of Ancients that I was determined to have my chocolate shake.

So, God made good on his promise. The water was falling so hard and so cold that the impact was actually making breathing a challenge. But, I was finally at the tiny window. In the cold torrent I actually had to focus and try several times to get my diaphragm to work my breath sufficiently to say "Chocolate Milkshake". Adding a "please" would've been an frivolous expenditure of energy resources in a survival situation.

And so, I stood there, my very survival itself not at all a certainty, and the lady actually stopped to wipe the rain off the floor by the window as I watched, before turning to make my shake. Undeterred by this lack of reverence toward human suffering, I stood, waiting as politely as I could. I would talk about how wet I was, but pretty much complete immersion over my head could not have saturated me any more than I already was.

She gave me my milkshake. I gave her five dollars. And back on the porch I realized that barely five minutes earlier I wasn't even sure I wanted that damn shake.

So, for the first time I truly understood why women think we men are idiots.

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