Small arms (redux)

Sometimes the world is a very cruel place.

Sometimes you’re dealt a situation you had no idea was coming, or even know how to handle. A situation that was pretty much unfathomable to the human mind, and then it happens, and you’re left wondering, “Why me?”

Yeah, that’s what happened to this kid.

It was bad enough that I had already overslept — I wanted to get up at 9 a.m., and then rose around 3:30 p.m. — leaving myself so much less time to get ready for a big night out being social.

I had a few things to do like eat, do some laundry and of course, take a shower.

But it seems the shower is the stage for the world to pull its most heinous pranks.

Slightly before I was to take a shower, I glanced into the tub and noticed the bar of Irish Spring soap— with aloe nonetheless— was getting to the point of no return, because it was so small that if it were to be dropped, it wouldn’t return but instead be whisked away down the drain and gone forever.

Presumably, logic would have kicked in and forced me to replace the soap before showering, but I tend to leave logic and intelligence next to the towels on the rack, especially if I’ve only been conscious and out of bed for 20 minutes.

I didn’t replace the soap. No, I got in, and as cruel as whatever force driving this world is, somehow that little bar of soap, well, it got stuck to my back. Not just in any place, but in the one place on your back where neither arm will just quite reach. No matter how outstretched those fingers get, there’s no chance of getting it. Plus, some of us in this world suffer from a little thing I like to call “T-Rex Syndrome.” (That’s where the arms appear to be proportionately shorter than they should be, making it extremely hard to reach items, especially bars of soap stuck to your back.)

I struggled and struggled with that bar. I tried to wash it off, I slammed my back against the wall on numerous occasions, accompanied by grunts and screams, with a small hope that bar would be gone. Ten minutes went by, and every attempt to remove it failed.

I gave up. I knew I was beat. So I just stood there, astonished at the cruelty of the world.

Then, it all ended. As fate would have it, that Irish Spring bar terminated the situation on its own, fell to the ground, and floated its way to the drain, laughing and mocking me the entire way.

Devastated I had been morally demolished by soap, I ended my shower.

I made it out that night, but I was late, really late, and I was down, but as usual I told everyone about my earlier predicament. Apparently, I forgot to grab logic and intelligence off the towel rack, because that was a mistake.

I have since switched to Dial.