Becky in the Blizzard

Becky's driving to his house
And it's snowing

It's really snowing

It's really fucking snowing

And she's driving

She's driving in the snow
In the snowstorm
In the fucking blizzard
To his house

And why?

Sex

That's why

. . . . .

...advises that only in the event of an emergency...

. . . . .

No heroic act
No racing to a loved one
No emergency

Just sex with a guy
She's wanted
Since high school

One year into college
And she's lost all the weight
And finally found a haircut
That doesn't make her look
Like a lesbian

Oh, and there's a blizzard
Yes, there's that

That's why he said 'Come over'

Because he's bored
Because he's horny
Because none of the girls
Who haven't spent most of their lives
Lusting after guys like them
While spending all their nights
Getting on and off a scale
Saying it's wrong

Saying it's off
Saying it's broken
Saying tomorrow

Tomorrow, tomorrow

Girls like that don't understand
That when a boy like him
Says 'Come over'
You go

You go even if it's three feet deep
And the road looks like an ice skating rink
After a hockey game
Right before the whatever-you-call-it comes out
To clean up

Because you don't know about tomorrow
Tomorrow is something you can't trust

You could gain all the weight back tomorrow

And if that seems impossible
Then you've never had all that weight on you

You know you don't lose it

It stays there beneath your skin
And on a day when you feel good
It starts pouring out of you
And suddenly you're fat again

And even if he did want to sleep with you on that day
You wouldn't let him
Because you're gross

Because you're disgusting

Because he'd gasp when you removed your clothing
And kick you out of his house

So on the day you feel good
Like, really good
Like, holy shit when did I start looking this good?

On the day when you have the guts
To text him and say--

'Crazy outside, huh?'

And he says--

'Yeah, you should come over and keep me company'

You get in your fucking car

And it doesn't matter
If your roommate is on CNN
And it says that anybody going out in this weather
Has an eighty percent chance
Of freezing within five minutes

And it doesn't matter
That your mother would disown you
If she knew that you were risking your life
Could go have sex
With a boy whose number is only in your phone
Because you were lab partners in Bio
And you did all the work

She'd also kill you
If she knew
He was one of the reasons
You settled for Dugan Tech
Instead of Cornell

She has no idea you're a romantic

Your sister is the romantic

Your sister is the one who would drive to a man
During a blizzard

But your sister is also married
With a baby
And a lawyer for a husband
So she has a right to be romantic

It's fine being romantic
When it results
In a happy ending

But when it means a cop pulling you over
To ask you if you're nuts
For being out in this weather
And you lying and telling him
That you're heading home
After working at a hospital
Where you're a nurse

Well then being romantic is just embarrassing

And the cop doesn't even look like he believes you

You can swear you hear him mumbling--'Have fun getting yourself killed'
As he walks away from your car

. . . . .

"...record snowfalls..."

. . . . . 


When she arrives at the house
She's already worried
About having to go again

I'll have to stay, she thinks

I'll have to tell him
That I'm crashing here
Until the storm is over

Actually, she thinks
That sounds great
I'll say it just that way

Hey, is it cool if I crash here until the storm blows over?


And he'll say 'Yeah, sure, of course'
Because, I mean, he's not a douchebag
He's a decent human being
Otherwise why is she about to sleep with him
Right?

Oh God, what if he says no?
What if he expects her to drive back out into the snow
After making love for, what?

Minutes?

The storm will still be going strong
And let's face it
You only get lucky once
When you tempt death

She may have made it here
But she is NOT making it back
If the weather stays like this

You can't spit in the face of Mother Nature
Two times in one night
And all because
You wanted to get laid

Her perfume has worn off
Because she's sweating
From having jacked up the heat
On the way over

She gets out of the car
And he's already waiting at the door

'C'mon in' he says
And she responds with--

'I can totally drive home if you want me to'

He laughs at her
Thank God

'I don't think you're going anywhere for awhile'

And that begins
The snowstorm
That went by in eighteen hours
That seemed like eighteen minutes
That seemed like forever

Becky remembers it all
As blankets
And pillows
And his hands
And his hair
And her legs
Looking absolutely stunning
Everything looking absolutely stunning
For the very first time

And when they woke up
At two o'clock
The following day
Becky put on her bracelet
Pulled her hair back again
And slowly slipped on her shoes

He sat up in bed
And hugged his knees
Up against his chest

'You don't have to go,' he said

She looked at him
Admired him, really
Took him in

She'd done something rash
And she didn't regret it

Now the roads were clear
The streets were salted
Cars were littering the world again
And Becky could go home

. . . . .

"...happy to report safe driving conditions..."


. . . . .


And Becky looks at him
And says--

'I guess I could hang around for a little bit'

And then
Just then
The sun came out

And nobody
Even
Noticed