That Snow Way To Behave

, , , , , , , | Friendly | March 29, 2018

When enough snow accumulates on the ground, there’s an unspoken rule for parking: don’t steal a shoveled space. Someone else did the hard work, and even went to the trouble of digging out a lawn chair, cone, or trash barrel to tell the world it’s saved. While some people are kind about giving up their spaces, this is only acceptable if you ask first.

After one particular snow storm when I was 16, my parents, my uncle, and I got out and shoveled. After spending roughly two hours digging out the cars and clearing the sidewalk and walkway, my uncle — who lived with us — and my mother were free to head to work. While my mother’s car was parked on a paved portion of our property, my uncle’s was parked on the street, because we only had two parking spaces and my dad had his own car. So, to protect the spot, I dug out our trash barrels and placed one into the spot as soon as my uncle pulled out.

With school cancelled and my dad retired, he and I went back inside to rest up before we had to go back out and tackle more snow. We only rested about an hour, but the snow was coming down pretty hard that day. When we got outside to check for ice, I saw our barrel perched atop a mountain of snow in our front yard. Already having a sneaking suspicion, I circled around the pile to confirm it: someone tossed our barrel out of the way and swiped the spot.

I know plenty of people who would slash tires, smash windshields, and find other ways to vandalize the car, and a few others who would be waiting around the car with a few friends. I took a more civilized approach. After tossing the barrel into my backyard, I began deconstructing the mountain in my front yard and used it to bury the spot again, car and all. I didn’t stop until the snow was as high as it was when the four of us found it that morning.

If this person wanted this spot so badly, then they could do the work for it.

1 Thumbs
796

Castration Frustration

, , , , | Romantic | March 22, 2018

(My husband has a YouTube playlist running, and the current song is by a singer with a surprisingly high vocal range. At this point, Ireland and Britain are in for a few days of serious snow and minus zero temperatures.)

Husband: “You know, if he didn’t have a wife and child, I’d say he was castrated.”

Me: “What does being castrated have to do with having a wife?”

Husband: *to daughter, pointing out the window* “Look! Snow!”

Me: “Nice deflection, dear.”

(It was snowing, but the timing was perfect…)

1 Thumbs
207

Always Take The Weather With You Somewhere Else

, , , | Right | March 18, 2018

(I work for a major hotel chain in their reservation center.)

Me: “Good evening. This is [My Name] and I will be assisting you with your reservation.”

Caller: “Can you tell me what the weather will be like next week in [City 1000 miles away]?”

Me: “Sir, this the Global Reservation Center for [Hotel]. I suggest you look up the forecast via a weather website.”

Caller: “Can you look it up for me?”

Me: “I can, but you will be on hold for the next few minutes.”

Caller: “Oh. Never mind, then.” *click*

1 Thumbs
413

There Snow Problem Like Snow Problems

, , , , , | Related | March 15, 2018

(My mother is very easily agitated and complains at length about mundane things. This conversation occurs a few days after we have had a major snowstorm. No one was injured, but my mother has been ranting for a half an hour — no exaggeration — about how the grocery store was crowded before the storm, and about how she and her neighbors had to shovel the snow afterward. I had the same experience — crowded store and a lot of shoveling — but I took it in stride. She finally breaks her tirade to ask me:)

Mom: “So, how about you? How are you doing?”

Me: “I’m doing fine.”

Mom: “HOW ARE YOU DOING FINE WHEN EVERYBODY ELSE IS PASSING OUT IN THE SNOW?!”

(I was tempted to ask her to name one person who passed out in the snow, but she had already gone back to complaining.)

1 Thumbs
246

The Finer Details Are Foggy

, , , , | Working | March 14, 2018

(We are under a fog advisory; you can barely see the vehicle in front of you. I have to get up pretty early, partly because of the fog, but mostly because I live about an hour away from where I work. The road I take to work is under construction. I stroll into work — kind of late because of the fog and the extra time on my commute — and get settled at my desk, and I mention how bad the fog is near me. I am not the only one who lives outside of the city, but I am one of two who drive an hour or so to work every day. Everyone else drives 15 to 30 minutes, tops. The moment I mention how bad the fog is, I almost instantly regret it. I have one coworker who thinks EVERYTHING is a competition.)

Coworker: “Well, it’s worse over where I live. I live in the country!”

Me: “I mean, I kind of do, too. My town is in the middle of nowhere. You couldn’t even see two utility poles in front of you.”

Coworker: ” Yeah, but it’s still worse in the country.”

Me: “I know. There’s road construction in my town, remember? I have to take back-roads. I mean sure, the main road I usually take is still a country road, but I have to drive quite a while on gravel, now. And that’s terrifying in the fog.”

Coworker: “So what? I have to drive gravel every day.”

Me: “Not in fog.”

Coworker: “But I still have to drive on gravel every day!”

Me: “You live much closer to work. You also have to remember, I drive an hour every day.”

Coworker: “What does that have to do with it? I have to drive 25 minutes every day! Do you know how foggy it is?”

(Of course. Because 25 minutes is much worse than an hour. I should have stopped the conversation long before.)

1 Thumbs
376