Is this your first time working a hose?

In law school, I went with my then beau to his parents house one afternoon. The purpose: a grill out (Non-college style. Translation: no tasty libations.) We lounged about outside in the sun chatting and playing with his dog. At one point, his Father goes to the driveway to wash his vehicle. Mine, covered in dust, needed a bath as well so we queued up for some soap and suds. His parents had an amazing lawn and garden which would justify the reason the sprayer on the end of the hose looked like it was built by NASA.

When it was our turn to wash my mobile, his Father asked me if I needed a quick demo on how to use this gadget. Me, considering myself capable of the task at hand, reply without thinking “I’ve handled a few hoses.” To which, then beau bursts out laughing. Double entendre, please sit down.

Well, I did need a demo because the first time I put the hose down, I dropped it on the handle which activated the hose. Have you ever seen those sitcom-like situations where the hose whips around like the tail of Black Lab and sprays everything in sight? Well, I wished it was that scene. Because instead, the hose was precariously close to me so when the handle engaged, the stream sprayed straight up into my face.  At full force.

My need to turn it off was instant, however, my ability to see the actual nozzle highly impacted by the water spraying in my face. My hindered vision similar to Mr. McGoo in a snow storm. My then boyfriend intervened ONLY after he watched, laughed, called his Dad to witness the melee, and then laughed some more. Perhaps a little less sass on my part would have provoked a little earlier help.

By the time the mere minutes passed, I was completely drenched. Adding insult to injury was that it turned out to be an imperfect day to wear a white t-shirt.

And for years afterward, I would be hazed about how I just couldn’t handle the hose.

An impromptu wet t-shirt contest at the home of your boyfriend’s conservative parents? NOT recommended.