After the deluge, we wonder where did our spring go?
By Beth Teitell
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
OK, so Red Sox ticket holders get rain checks for all the recent washouts. I don’t begrudge them, but what about the rest of us, huh? Just because we weren’t planning a jaunt to Fenway doesn’t mean we haven’t lost precious time to deluges. And we want it back.
Actually, they owe us. I’m not sure who “they” are - although I’d like to point to Tom Cruise - but our spring’s being ruined, and we want - no, deserve - Sun Make Up Days.
It’s only fair. By this time, I should have had at least four lunches at a sidewalk cafe, had a few solid strolls along the Esplanade and marveled at the blooming beauty in the Public Garden. Instead, it’s been a steady diet of why-go-out-it’s-awful.
So here’s how it’s going to work: This year, “Memorial Day” will be celebrated mid-June (or later if necessary), and “summer” will extend into early October, with all the attendant benefits. Namely, after Labor Day, no points are deducted for: wearing white; playing hooky from work; eating two ice cream cones a day; reading trashy novels; goofing off.
“How’s our compensation going to be calculated?” a soggy colleague asked yesterday when she noticed me drawing up my list of demands. “Is it a day for a day?”
That’s what I had in mind, until she pointed out that that wasn’t generous enough. “We need time and a half, at least,” she explained. “Partially because of the stress of the floating sewage and flooded basements and roads, and partially because the make-up days at the end are shorter than the days are now.”
With that, she headed off for a 10 a.m. nap, one of the only perks of a rainy day (the other being the perfect excuse for skipping all social and soccer obligations).
Comp time is welcome, but I want cash, too, to reimburse me for the spring clothes that languish in my closet - and for the rain boots I was forced to buy.
“I thought you had rain boots,” my mom said when I answered a cell call in a shoe store. “Those are fashion rain boots,” I explained, wistfully eying a pair of sandals. “I’d never wear them out in this weather.”
Just wait until FEMA gets my bill.
