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| Holowaty's self-portraits: cropped to perfection |
On Sunday evening, after Ryan's service and the releasing of paper lanterns into the starry sky over Candle Lake (Ryan would have dug that), Jamie Chester (rockstar extraordinaire and one of Ryan's best buddies) put on a show at Rick's Lounge. It was a chance to celebrate Ryan. Friends, drinks, and Pearl Jam. The perfect tribute to our little buddy. I was sour. Miserable. I didn't want to be there. I would have preferred to sit in a dark house alone, wallowing in my sorrow. Ev, sensing my misery, handed me a glass of wine, threw his arm around me and said, "Let's take tomorrow off. I will text Whit and see if she can cover the class for me." It is important, at this point in the story, to introduce Whitney. Whit (as we lovingly refer to her) is awesome. Whit is a beautiful 20-something year old girl who's full of life and can't sit still. She's the epitome of fitness. She runs, walks, swims, and/or bikes everywhere - whilst lifting kettlebells overhead (well, pretty much). Lucky for us, she's a CrossFit coach at our gym. She's super dependable as well, so it didn't surprise me when she immediately responded to Ev's text, "Sure, no problem. I can cover tomorrow's class."
Ev quickly replied back on his iphone, struggling to see the keypad under the night sky.
Ev: "Oh No!"
Me: "What's wrong?"
Ev: "Can I get a text back? How do I get this text back? Oh my god, is there any way to stop the text from sending??" Ev was frantically shaking his phone, removing the battery, etc.
Me: "What did you write? No, you can't get a text back. It's like a fax machine. It transports things with no explanation. It's a fricken mystery."
Ev: staring blankly at iphone
Me: "What did you send her?"
Ev sighed and handed me the phone. I could see the speech bubbles, outlining the conversation between Whit and Ev. The last bubble from Evan read:
Thanks Whor.
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| Far right - Whit. NOT Whor. Obviously, she's awesome. |
Ev showed me the tiny keypad on the iphone. Yep, "i" is right next to the"o". "t" is right next to the "r". It was an honest mistake. "Whit" can easily turn into "Whor" on the tiny iphone keypad - especially with man hands (Whoa, that didn't sound good). Well, once Ev explained to Whitney how such a message was mistakingly sent, she laughed it off, and it was determined that sexual harassment charges would not be laid, I couldn't help myself. I laughed. And laughed. And snorted. And laughed. I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks. I laughed until my sides hurt and my velopharyngeal valve (valve between nasal and oral cavity) burned from snorting so hard. It was funny. Funny things were STILL funny. I could totally hear Holowaty's high-pitched girlie laugh. He had the BEST laugh! His laugh was an over-the-top, bending at the knees whilst slapping your thigh kind of laugh. He was right there with us laughing away. It felt so good to laugh.
PS: There has been little laughter and flute playing in my house over the past few days. I have been suffering from the "sweat-puke-shake" flu since Sunday. It sucks. And contrary to what you might be thinking, it is not an extended hangover from my 90's flute session on Friday night. This is the real deal. But, the Shaw news story from my longboarding days is now available online. Check it out:
PS: There has been little laughter and flute playing in my house over the past few days. I have been suffering from the "sweat-puke-shake" flu since Sunday. It sucks. And contrary to what you might be thinking, it is not an extended hangover from my 90's flute session on Friday night. This is the real deal. But, the Shaw news story from my longboarding days is now available online. Check it out:
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