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A Cold Affront Moving In

Sometimes when I’m talking to other people, I forget that I actually have to listen to what they’re saying. Often, with less-than-ideal results. For me.

Just for instance:

“The forecast calls for heavy taunting throughout the afternoon, with a one hundred percent chance of embarrassment overnight and into morning.”

Today around noon, a few of us at work were sitting at the office lunch table talking about the blizzard heading our way tonight. One of the guys down the hall arrived late, and nodded as he sat down beside me.

Late Coworker: How’s the weather?

Me: Four to six inches, apparently.

Dead silence around the table.

(Female) Coworker at Table: WHAT?

Me: Um, I… what?

Late Coworker: I said, ‘How’s it hanging?’

Me: Oh. Damn.

*the usual laughing and pointing*

Me: Well. It’s a lot less than four-to-six now.

Naturally, the aftermath has been excruciating. People have already stopped by my desk to ask whether I plan on any ‘overnight accumulation’, whether the ‘forecast’ depends on how much ‘barometric pressure’ has built up, and all manner of unspeakable acts involving snow plows, salt trucks, and a Doppler radar dish. One guy even pulled me aside to inform me that the Eskimos have fifty words for it. Frightening.

I suppose it could have been worse. I could have said, ‘flurries likely’ or ‘a squall advisory for travelers’. Or even ‘less than an inch and it probably won’t stick’. Yes, that would have definitely been worse. Thank goodness there’s a Nor’easter on the way, and not just a dusting. I might be getting cracks about ‘reduced visibility’, to boot.

Meanwhile, my coworkers’ cups iceth over with cackling glee. The forecast calls for heavy taunting throughout the afternoon, with a one hundred percent chance of embarrassment overnight and into morning. I’m thinking of calling in sick tomorrow and letting things cool off over the weekend. Call it my own special kind of ‘snow day’. Meh.