PONDERING RUSTLERS AND WRANGLERS IN A TORNADO
Let me tell you about how, on my recent trip down South, I ran into a tornado
on Interstate 10 near Lafayette, Louisiana. And how I nearly succumbed musing
about apparel.
It all started in the morning when my hotel TV showed a band of thunderstorms
coming my way. The band was color-enhanced, blue through green at the edges
and yellow through red at the center. It looked nasty, and the thought came to
me that I'd better get going. A real dumb idea as it turned out.
After I had been driving a while, the false colors of the TV thunderstorm
became menacingly real. Off to my side the sky was sulfurous yellow and up
ahead dirty pink. It also started raining and then pouring. Soon everything
turned black and sinister. The only illumination came from scary strokes of
lightning.
At an upcoming exit ramp I saw the gentle lights of Wendy's, so that's where
I went. Parking my car in the empty lot, I ran out to get shelter and coffee.
The lights were on, but the place was empty and the door was locked. So there
I was in the pelting rain -- my raincoat was in my suitcase -- desperately
banging on the door. When nothing happened and I was sufficiently soaked, I
went back to my car for further deliberation.
Turning on the radio I was lucky enough to find an intelligent voice amidst
the disc jockey blabber. It said that a tornado had been spotted in Evangeline
Parish and that prudent people should get into the basement. I had no idea
where Evangeline Parish was, so I looked on the map and discovered I was in
the middle of it. The words about going to the basement now took on a new and
cruel meaning.
At this desperate moment I saw a Wallmart sign in the darkness, briefly
illuminated by lightning. The store was actually next door, but had been
hidden from my view by a tall fence. I drove down quickly, jumped out of the
car and ran inside, dripping water everywhere.
I figured that my only way of drying out again was to buy a dry pair of jeans
and put them on in the store. Making my way to men's clothing, I started
rummaging through the endless stacks of jeans. Now just visualize the scene.
With a tornado barreling down upon me, I am ruminating on whether to by a pair
of Rustlers for $12.95 or Wranglers for $ 15.95. With disaster about to
strike, my neurons are assessing the relative quality of denim. I could have
been killed pondering fabric. I mean to say, the mind is a wonderful organ.
But dangerous.
THE END
At Random - Adrian Korpel
