Last night I found myself at LT’s desk reacquainting myself with the use of the rodent-like object known to hang out there. One thing for sure, this rat does not have a good working relationship with the arrow. No way, no how. No sooner did I place my hand on the rat than the arrow would fly up under the tool bar. You can say, “Be that way, who cares,” in the movies, but in the real world, without the arrow- you’re screwed. Pondering over my chances of capturing the arrow through a more direct method like drilling a pin-sized hole in the screen was gaining merit the more illusive the arrow shot about the screen. Ya gotta love the nightlife at the Johnson’s.
Suddenly, without warning, audibly, visibly or telepathically, the world around me SHUT down. No, I’m not talking about a 60-watt blow out of those bulbs you’re not supposed to be using. Or even a bothersome computer crash (as long as it’s not your computer.) No, we’re talking about a complete Johnson household shutdown: no lamplight, no nightlight, no TV reflection, and for us- no telephone land lines.
So, what do I do? It’s midnight and I’m stranded atop LT’s office chair in his office. LT was sound asleep at the other end of the house; Sammy, my guard dog, is snoozing next to him. And, here I was transfixed, bound to a tilting computer chair in the pitch black dark. Reaching back, way back, mind you to my ancestors and the enviable, acclaimed ‘Blocker determination,’ I stood up. Using techniques garnered from watching many Lifetime movies, I stealthily inched my way around the corner of the den into the kitchen.
As I shuffled across the tile floor, I relaxed; reassuring myself my bearings would momentarily be realigned when I opened the refrigerator door. NOT. Instead of a soothing beam of light, I envisioned melting, spoiled shrimp and fish spilling out on the kitchen floor as the frozen food item rapidly thawed in our 100 degree temperatures.
Out of this frozen nightmare stupor, I remembered LT’s police Maglite propped up next to the folk art painted bread box (what, that’s not where you keep your flashlights?). Thanks to my housekeeper, all was perfect at the breadbox location. The Maglite cried out to me. I grabbed it just as Demi Moore did in GI Jane when she pulled herself over that last wall. I clicked the switch: light. How sweet it is. How could I ever have questioned the flashlight’s state of readiness? LT has flashlights on battery change-out schedules.
Equipped with this baby, I ventured out to the garage where I scooped up a lantern: talk about hitting the jackpot. Suddenly I felt like John Travolta under the glittering dome… Sammy did not appear to appreciate my rendition of Saturday Night Fever however. Sammy had jumped out of the bed as soon as the ‘dome’ illuminated our home.
Settling in under the dome, I realized the power had now been off for over an hour. Perhaps I should “do something.” Ok, I can handle this- I called the 800 number for South Carolina Gas & Electric. A glitch precluded the system from recognizing my account; I was transferred to the customer service department. Surprisingly, a human (a nice woman) came on the line requesting my street address and other GPS trivia. Come to find out, SC Electric & Gas does not service our home- she very politely suggested I call Berkeley Electric. I think she called them; I could not find a human to talk to. I could find no recorded messages about the outage, no input on the cause, no idea of the duration. What I did find were a list of things to do if ‘you experience a power outage. What jumped off the screen at me was the insistence that you methodically go around your home, turning OFF all appliances and major electronics. No way was I going to get into those maneuvers without LT’s blessings. After fretting and talking it over with Sammy, I decided to wake LT up and ask him if I needed to turn everything off. Did I mention it was 2 am?
Despite my sincere efforts, I have been unable to simulate the expression LT had on his face upon awakening. After telling me, and having me say out loud I would not turn anything off, he went back to sleep (or I thought he did).
The next problem I faced was the rapidly dimensioning cell phone charge on my I phone. No problem. I hoisted Sammy up on my hip- zipped out to my car and attached my phone to the car charger. Things were zipping along UNTIL I looked up and guess who was at the front door? Yep. I don’t think I have to tell you his expression far surpassed the one when I woke him up. My waving did not seem to help.
I mean, what was I to do? Head into an emergency with 20% power on my I Phone? Forget the fact that at 2 am, Sammy and I were in my car, motor running, all doors locked with my car charger going full blast on my link to the outside world. I stand by my decision. When my bar hit 80% recharged, I felt comfortable relocating to my dark home. Sammy and I crawled into bed at 3, to be ready to get up at 5AM.
This mysterious widespread outage has not captured ANY press attention- so we are, to speak, still in the dark. But, hey I found out we get our power from Berkeley Electric.
Every story has a silver lining. .l
