It’s cold out there.
How cold is it?
It’s so cold that …
- Chickens are running into KFC begging to use the deep fryer.
- Miley Cyrus put her tongue back in her mouth.
- Grandpa’s teeth are chattering – IN the glass.
In my *coughcoughcough* years on this planet, I’ve been painfully cold twice in my life. Just twice. Both times in Chicago.
The latter occasion was particularly memorable.
It was early 1991, and I was on a national theater tour with an Equity children’s theater out of Kentucky. We landed in Chicago in mid-March.
We had a night off (the awesome part about being in a kid’s show company — daylight shows only!) and a friend and I got a craving for Indian food. So we borrowed one of the company vans and set off in search of a local Indian place my friend knew about from some local actors.
My friend drove since she was more familiar with the city than I was, and I sat in the front passenger’s seat. We pulled up to a stoplight in this quirky little four-block neighborhood and waited for the light to change.
Across the intersection on our side of the street, among the many pedestrians, I saw a man in an overcoat with ear muffs and a thick scarf wound around his neck, holding two large brown paper grocery bags full of food. He was standing just off the sidewalk, in the street.
Then he started rollerskating across the intersection! Right in front of oncoming and turning traffic! Cars are everywhere and he’s just gliding along, like nobody’s business.
I cringed, waiting for the inevitable collision – which, thank God, didn’t happen.
Then the throngs of people crossing the street in front of us thinned out and I got a look at the guy’s rollerskates.
He wasn’t wearing rollerskates.
The wind was pushing him flat-footed across the street on a patch of black ice.
Y’all stay warm out there.