Hard-Hitting News

Over the last 24 hours, the DC Metro area was blanketed with 5 inches of snow. And for once, the area was somewhat prepared for it, as most schools look to have a 2 hour delay (including Katie’s, who very well could still be in bed right now.) Maybe DC is learning how to combat snowstorms, even though their local forecasters have no idea how to predict accumulations. I swear, we’ve got the Super Doppler Dartboard method in full effect. Eh, it’s okay – it’s seems that we’re better off than last year.

As I looked out my window this morning and out at Lee Highway, the roads looked good. Sure, my car was covered, but that’s what ice scrapers are for. Looks like it’s going to be a normal day. Then again, the fact that I am writing about my morning this early in the day probably says otherwise.

I’m a glutton for comedy.

Walking down the 58 steps is much easier than walking up them – especially when I’ve got my schoolbag with me. The sheer weight of that one carry-on alone is enough to propel me down the 3 flights at record speed. The other thing it does it prevent me from doing anything with my left arm. My right hand, on the other, well, you know, is holding my keeps and scarf and otherwise rendered helpless. On my way down those stairs, I probably could be attacked by ninja lawyers and there would be nothing I could do. Good thing the stairwell is a confrontation-free zone.

Oof.

That’s the sound of Chris getting drilled in the chest by the Washington Post.

On days with less than 5 inches of snow on the ground, the Washington Post delivery guy is kind enough to drop my neighbors’ daily periodical on their doormats (which strangely enough, are actually forbidden in our lease agreement) When there is 5 or more inches of snow, WP Guy stays in his truck and chucks the rolled up paper out of the driver’s side window. I really can’t blame him. I’m sure the inside of the truck is way warmer than the outside, and throwing a newspaper is way more fun than gingerly placing it on a doormat.

The truck was parked right in front of our building as I descended the final flight of stairs. At the time, I had no idea that he was delivering newspapers, much less winging them out of the vehicle. But then I saw him grab a paper, roll it, and wrap it in the plastic – all ready for deployment. And just three steps from reaching ground zero, everything went slow motion in some Matrix-fully-aware-stream-of-conscience mode. The last thing I remembered was the paper leaving his outstretched hand with impressive levels of velocity and trajectory.

Remember earlier when I said my arms were pretty useless? This is where it comes into play. The man’s head turned AFTER he released, and everything happens so slowly that I actually saw the shock on his face in my peripheral vision. Why was I looking at him in the peripheral? Easy – there’s a flying newspaper coming right at me – that sort of thing kind of grabs your attention. All I could think was –

“Dude, that’s gonna hit me.”

The paperman apologized profusely for the errant throw, but when that kind of thing happens, you just have to laugh it off. Or plan to show up at his apartment the next day and hit him with a binder of financials.

That’s only fair, right?