Monday, February 28, 2011

Monday Memories: Tales from the Pew (Guest Blogger!)

It's a new week, and we're all waking up with a Monday morning Oscar hangover.   Well, I have the cure!  Please welcome to Flippity Floo my long-time friend and one-time room-mate, Jeannine!  Although she and I are separated by many kilometres/provinces, she is one of those friends that makes it easy to pick right up where you left off.  She is one of the most fun people I know! 

Jeannine is here as my guest blogger today, and she is kicking off my new regular Monday feature - Monday Memories!  She was the brains behind the idea of capturing tales from the past in this blog, and so my generous reward to her was to kickstart this new feature as a guest blogger!  I gave her full creative control of her post - and I laughed out loud when I found out what she decided to write about... one of the worst and funniest mornings of my life!

So, without further delay, here's Jeannine!

So I am procrastinating many things by contributing to Monday Memories (who am I kidding, if I wasn’t do this right now I’d likely be downstairs getting sucked into trash television or mixing up a kuhlua and milk), but I could not resist the opportunity to guest blog for Flippity Floo. I know, I know- you’re wondering- who the hell is this chick and how did she get this gig? Well I guess you could say I asked for it- literally. Years ago when I was in grad school in Toronto, I met a phenomenal woman who I ended up living with for a summer. Oh what a summer it was! We had our share of laughs and adventures for sure. You’ve likely already figured out that the phenomenal woman of whom I speak is Kirsten. Make no mistake folks, she is amazing. Sneaky too! When I suggested that some of our roommate rituals and household follies would make excellent fodder for the Floo, she immediately passed the buck and suggested I make my own contribution. Well okay, if I have to -- fasten your seat belts kids, it’s going to be a wild ride!

Where to begin? I can honestly tell you that reading Kirsten’s blog is pretty much the experience I had living with her. There was never a dull moment, and I was always laughing. Hmm, well maybe not ALWAYS laughing, or at least not at the time. The tale that comes to mind begins on a cool summer’s eve. I was out for a night of fun and frolic with some friends, and Kirsten had her own plans. I was not one to make an early appearance after a night of drinking, so I arrived back at our house very late, as in early hours of the morning late. Kirsten arrived home first, and for some strange reason picked that morning as the time to become ‘responsible’ and ensure that she was safe and secure, screen door locked and all. The one problem of course is that there was no key to the screen door, thus this drunken diva found herself on the wrong side of things, very much stranded. Oh how I cursed that screen door on this particular night (or should I say morning)!

I know what you are thinking -- why didn’t I just call her on my cell phone? Well confession time, I didn’t have one (yes I am old and thank you for asking!). I suppose if I had had a phone, that might have been the end of the story -- or would it have? Kirsten has got to be the SOUNDEST sleeper ever, in the history of sound sleepers.  I knew she was in there because the screen door was locked, so I began my quest to get in with a polite knock. Who I thought I was fooling with that move, I don’t know. Next up was the slightly more forceful window tap -- again, to no avail. At this point I am starting to consider ‘breaking in’ to an open window. Oh right, Kirsten’s got the place locked up tighter than Lady Ga Ga’s pants. No dice.

Ok so I didn’t have a cell phone but pay phones did exist at the time. The trouble was that the closest one was at a gas station (or was it a donut shop?) a block or so away. This is probably a good time to mention that although the street we lived on was fine; the neighborhood itself had elements of sketch. I quickly ruled out the pay phone as an option.

Ok now it was time to get serious. Although it was summer it wasn’t as warm as I would have liked. I wanted in and I wanted it now! Thus began the banging and the yelling at the bedroom window. ‘Kirsten, Kirsten’!! She would not be moved.
So with no way in and nowhere to go (yes I had other friends but remember I was drunk and it was very late and I didn’t want to wake anyone -- oh yes EXCEPT Kirsten!), I decided to turn in for the night/morning. Turn in, you say? Yes, I turned in folks on the only option available to me -- a church pew. No, I did not seek out a church for shelter. I did not suddenly have a religious experience and find God. Kirsten and I just happened to have a church pew on our front porch. Didn’t I mention that before? 

Editor's note:  Not our pew, but this provides a good example of what our front porch looked like at the time - perfect sleeping conditions for our sketchy neighbourhood!

Now you can only imagine what I was thinking at the time -- yes that’s right, damn this church pew is uncomfortable (The irony is that there were many Sunday mornings from the past that I would have loved to sleep on a church pew)! However, when I woke up in the morning (which was really just an hour or two later), I starting thinking about how nice my bed was going to feel when I finally got inside.

I knew Kirsten would be up early for work so I figured once she was vertical, it would just be a quick ‘tap tap’ and I’d be in. Sadly, this was not the case. The gentle knock and tap turned into a full blast bang, but still Kirsten would not be drawn to the outer door. 

I really wanted her to see me, I really, really did. Yes I wanted to get inside, and definitely yes I needed more sleep. However, what I was even more concerned about was Kirsten’s reaction when she came outside and saw me. I knew it was going to be something, and she didn’t disappoint.

When she finally made her way out the door, blissfully unaware that her day was not going to be as smooth as she had planned, she was startled by the sight of me on the pew. In fact at first I don’t think she even believed it. It took a few more minutes for the inevitable ‘wait a minute if you are outside and in your clothes from last night that means’ -- and then it began. ‘OH my God Jeannine I am so sorry. Did you really sleep out here??’ ‘I feel SO bad!!!’, “Oh my God’, and many more minutes of the same.

For those of you who know Kirsten well, you realize that experience hurt her more than I ever suffered on that pew. She felt bad about it for ages and tried to make it up to me in many ways. Of course there was no need for that, because it’s finally all been forgiven. I got to tell the whole sordid story to the world via blog. Thanks Kirsten!

p.s. It just wouldn’t have been the same if the pew had been a bench.


  1. Did you notice the last time you were at our house that we too have a church pew on our front porch? It's not the same style as the one on Wychwood, but it's always reserved for you if you need a place to crash!

  2. I did not notice that but am glad to know there is always a place for me to crash :). Incidentally what is up with church pews on porches? Is this an Ontario thing?