Poncho Villa

I'm usually a pro-poncho person.  I've even been known to rock (yes, I do rock the look) purple fleece ponchos.  If I have to choose between form and function, function always wins.  And ponchos function to keep me warm and comfortable.  But I met my match yesterday, in the form of Nick's gianormous poncho.  After walking around in snow and sleet and generally making myself to vulnerable to hypothermia and pneumonia, we arrived at Nick's for a brief interlude before dinner*.  At Nick's, I was able to make use of my emergency socks and dry my toes, but my jacket was still pretty wet and cottony, so Nick offered up a poncho.  A poncho that is "a little large on him."  He also added that, "the instruction says it can double as a tarp or tent."  That's exactly what the green sheet looked like on me.  I was lucky it went slightly above my toes.  Whatever, I said, I just want to be dry.  Then I tried to put my backpack on.  The left arm worked just fine.  But we ran into difficulties with the right one.  Because ponchos don't really have sleeves, but vague slits, I couldn't pull my arm through the backpack loop.  I tried laughing it off and starting over, but my arm was still stuck.  Then Nick tried to help me but we still couldn't yank my hand through.  (I may have shouted "I have a Harvard degree!" at one point)  So Nick gave up.  And I walked down the street with one free arm and one nubbin of an arm jammed through my backpack strap, in a giant green sheet, like a sad, misshapen blob.  But I really rocked the misshapen blob look.

*Dinner?  It was at your typical Peruvian-chicken-by-day-secret-ramen-noodle-joint-by-night type of place.  You know how those things are.