As you probably all know, I don’t drive. It’s not like I never tried; in high school I made full use of being in Grade 12, and enrolled in the Driver’s Ed program. This was a disaster, although I had a series of “eventful” lessons with a lovely instructor and a good friend of mine. Still, a few weeks of mid-January night time lessons later, I was sufficiently frightened for life, and to this day have remained faithfully bus-bound.

This year however, I moved to Taylor Avenue. This street has one bus going down it, maybe once an hour, and it doesn’t go anywhere close to my work. So I’ve been walking. It’s good exercise and it’s free, and until this week I thought I was going to be alright, firm in a hopeful belief that winter wasn’t really all that bad… as long as I had my Big Headphones and Big Mitts, right? Sadly though, this week I was forced to accept that my wishful thinking really was a wasted effort, and admit defeat. Winter: 1, Emily: 0. I’ve been arriving at work with legs glowing scarlet and skin frozen to the touch, and even with my trusty mitts and headphones, still not the happiest of bunnies. So I made the decision to get a snowsuit.

I had one a few years ago. It was black, and consisted of a pair of padded trousers with a high waist and straps that went over your shoulders. You could wear it under a winter jacket and be absolutely toasty on the longest of walks and the coldest of nights, and it could pass as a regular pair of black trousers so you didn’t draw too much attention to yourself. Unfortunately I’ve put on a bit of weight since then, and it definitely doesn’t fit any more. And the legs were always too short anyway. I’ve spent the last few days looking around online, only to find either rubbishy “wind protector pants” with no padding or anything, or exactly what I am looking for… for $300. It came up in conversation with my boss, and she said she had a spare snowsuit she could give me for the winter. Huzzah! So, today she brought it in.

It’s neon green. It has emo stripes on half the sleeves. It’s got a weird pattern across the top, and sweaty yellow stains around the neck. And she wants me to try it on so I can wear it home tonight.
Maybe she thought my walk home involved heading down Pembina and then taking a sharp right into 1984 where this thing may have almost been acceptable. Did I mention the neon green? This thing is fluorescent. Heck, if I did drive, I wouldn’t need head headlights, ‘cause I’m pretty sure this thing would glow on its own for a decent 10 feet. And it smells funny!

So I have precisely four and a half hours to come up with an excuse not to have to come into physical contact with this abomination (or explain its sudden mysterious disappearance). And I’m begging you guys for help.