Lost in the Frozen Tundra (or How I Spent My First Night of Break)12:56 PM
Well, glad that's over.
It's fifteen minutes past 11 PM on the first day of spring break...a day I spent working. Straightening Styrofoam chicks in bunny hats, cramming bunny balls onto one shelf, rearranging an explosion of Easter merchandise that some sucker of a grandma will buy for her whiny grandchild, which will then set off a conniption fit in the mother whose basement already overflows with useless plastic stuff. I was done with retail for the day. For the month. For forever, really. Sniffle-nosed, crampy, tired -- I just wanted to see my boyfriend before crashing in my empty dorm. Eight blissful hours of sleep before our early morning roadtrip back to Wisconsin. But first, wrangling bags.
There was the water bottle, the bags of cheese crackers, the purse, the gloves, the car keys. The car keys hit the snowy pavement somewhere in that tangle. When I fumbled open the locked dorm door and threw everything on my un-made bed, I only had one glove. One? What? Where? Outside the...? Oh, brother. Yeah, it was there, halfway between the locked door and the locked car. Holding the door open with my toe, I stretched to grab the glove. Mission accomplished, back to the room -- wait. The car lights are still on? How are they on? Will they go off? How did I not burn out my battery before this? Fine, I'll just turn it off to be sure. It was a million degrees below zero. I'd changed a car battery in this kind of weather before. Never again.
Having preempted jumping my car tomorrow morning, I turned around to face the locked door.
The locked door. I slowly felt inside my coat pocket. Car keys. Lanyard. No phone. No dorm keys. I pounded on the door. No way would my head RA hear this. College kids don't return to their dorms before midnight on the weekend.
Campus security. They could help! I shuffle-sprinted in my work shoes through the biting cold to the security building. They would still be there, yes? It's only the first day of break. They had to be here. The lady at the front desk when I turned in my off-campus housing form said she wasn't getting a break. They must be here. (At this point, I realized I could have driven to security.) I jogged up to the front door of campus security. There was a sign. A sign on the front. Please, don't....