Snowball farce

"It's like Houdini in a casket. It's not doing anything now, but it will soon!"

It's official: engineers-in-training at every school are mostly lame. The above was said in response to a tensile test that was going painfully slow. I admit to its charm, though. I give props.

As none of you know, this past weekend was supposed to contain a massive snowball fight. I recently joined an online website (which may be the only type of website, I don't know?) in preparation for potentially going to Iceland over spring break. A group of people suggested a snowball fight in Parc Jeanne-Marce.  Of course, in my giddiness, I confirmed immediately along with 20 other people. The entire week I anticipated the epicness.

After a hard night's work, I got up reluctantly at 9 am on Saturday morning and took the metro all the way out to St. Denis, something like half an hour away. Even in -27 degree weather, my spirit could not be broken, or strangled to death by large icicles forming in my esophagus; a strange man, who I can only assume was an Hispanic-francoanglophone remarked as I passed by: "It's cold!". I agreed with a resounding grunt. It may have been a sneeze; I can't tell them apart any more.

I arrived at the park at 01120, a full twenty minutes post-haste (see fashionable), to find piles of snow and an imposing statue that marked the site. As I walked, I saw a group of 20 men in large white parkas and a gigantic tent. I thought: "Uniforms! This is going to be better than I thought." But I then I reasoned, quite logically, that I had not given anyone my size ... there's no way they could've guessed. Besides, they were homogenous, how could they field two teams?

The agreed meeting spot was the statue so I stepped through multiple feet of snow and climbed an icy staircase. Once I reached the plateau, I could see no one at all. Wholeheartedly believing in the sanctity of human relationships, I could not believe that 20 individuals would fail to show up independently of each other. Someone had to come! So I waited for twenty minutes. I watched kids play hockey and dogs with, of course, little cutesy boots. I even decided to watch the parka-laden men trod around in ritualistic manner. No one arrived. To be fair, I'll give everyone the benefit of the doubt: it was frigid and perhaps the herd had migrated after everyone was punctual (no way). Still, there should've been notice. At least an ice sculpture.

I could be bitter, but it did get me up on a Saturday morning that may have been otherwise wasted. Moreover, it has strengthened my desire to either organize or create an impromptu snowball war. Perhaps I'll solicit parkas.  

In any case, I threw a snowball at a snowbank as I left. All was not for naught.

heyooo: germans.