Tuesday, December 8, 2015

"I'm Not Grounded"

Ya know one of the things I hate about winter? The torture. I mean, really, I get tortured every year. Not just by motorists and icy roads but by my own truck and, especially, myself. 
The cold weather draws the moisture out of the air and sets the stage for my natural buildup of electrons to go haywire. The barometer does crazy things and every metal object around me becomes possessed with a murderous spirit. Even my clothes hate me in the winter. 

I've got a real nice fleece hoodie that I like. Can't wear it. That blanket that's so comfortable? It hates me. In fact, I've got two that I use. I absolutely love my quilt. It's kept me warm in negative temperatures. Then...it tries to murder me. 
I can see it working up to it. 
It's dark in my truck. Like a cave, just with less lighting. I like it that way. The sleepers in these trucks are designed to keep the light out even on the brightest days. So even the slightest bit of light is noticeable. 

So there I am, sleeping in what is essentially a black hole. I roll over and move the blanket as I do. "Oh look, stars!" Oh crap, static buildup. Every tiny move creates more. I toss and turn a lot and it just gets worse. Eventually it starts to look like a rave in my truck. Part of me wants to put on industrial music and dance, the other part is terrified of what happens next. 
I'm eventually going to have to get out of bed in this big metal box and touch something. When I do I'm going to get electrocuted by my own body. 
I'm surprised I haven't shorted out half the electronics in here. Every time I touch something I get shocked. I'm waiting for the day I reach for something in here and see lightning flying from the tips of my fingers. 

Just minding my own business, trying to step out of my truck, I get juiced like I'm auditioning for the Green Mile. I mean I don't just build up a little electricity; at times I'm sure I could power a small town. 
No need for a bug zapper, I AM one. And I know precisely what those little flying creatures go through. 

It happens year round but it's worse in the winter. Even in months like June, though, I can push a cart through Walmart and build up electricity. "Ho hum, I'll grab this can of tuna.." Then I accidentally make contact with the shelf and ZAAAP! I could power Emett Brown's Delorean. 
As a kid I learned early on that I couldn't walk across carpet with socks on. There's a risk of spontaneous combustion. Raise your hand if you share this problem. No. Wait, you'd better not move. 

I always hear about people with magnetic personalities but I bet it's nowhere near as literal as my electric personality. Send me up somewhere really cold, put my in something fleece lined and have me walk across the room. You can practically hear the crackling in the air. I bet in the right circumstances I could jump start a car without using cables. 
I'll never fully understand why it's worse with some people than others. 
I see other people walking around carelessly grabbing doorknobs and I envy them. Every time I reach for a handle or knob I know it's gonna be like hugging an electric eel. I can't even walk through the parking lot without generating enough electricity to stun a crocodile. 

If only I could find a way to make money off of it like some carnival freak show. "Ladies and gentlemen, step right up! For only a quarter you can view The Lightshow Kid. He'll dazzle you, he'll blind you, he'll make your hair stand on end! Come inside and see the human Tesla coil!"
They'd put me in a dark room surrounded with wool and fleece and I'd run around putting on a show like the Aurora Borealis. They'd cheer as I scream in pain every time I got too close to the metal bars. I'd probably have to wear chain mail over my sweater and walk around powering all the rides before they opened up. 

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