Monday, February 17, 2014

As If The Ice Weren't Enough ...

Game of Thrones tried to tell us.  But we wouldn't listen.  Winter was coming ... and it's making us its bitch.

I haven't been outside yet since I got to the office at 8:30 ... but I can see the flagpole from here.  The flag is now solid and hasn't moved in three hours.   I can also see the tops of trees ... and everything is coated in a thick layer of ice.  Leaving here is going to be a royal pain in the ass.

My new yard/snow removal guy is either a junkie or psychotic ... possibly both.  Twice he's told me we were expecting an outrageous amount of snow ... once was an exaggeration ... once was an out and out lie.  Once I was at Stoney's when he texted me, "We're going to be getting at least 12 inches of snow, do you want me to shovel your drive?"  I was slightly baffled.  I knew we weren't supposed to get any ... I told him I'd pass.

To this day I wonder ... what would he have done if I said yes?  Shoveled imaginary snow?  What was he thinking?  Is he like an infant?  Does he think when I'm not physically at the house that I disappear?  That I instantly travel so far away that I don't know what the weather is like five miles from where I'm standing?

Last week, he texted me early Friday morning to ask if I wanted him to shovel.  I told him no ... we were only expecting two inches or so.  He texted back to tell me that it was Valentine's Day ... as if I didn't know ... and he was clearing drives to earn money "to pick up something nice for my lady."  Wow ... I had no idea Will Farrell was clearing my snow.  As much as I would've liked to help his lady get that new Zippo she's been hinting at, I had to pass.

Today he texted me ... would I like him to shovel my drive.  At this point, I'm getting a little tired of the soft shoe.  Do I want you to shovel what?  The ice?  No ... I do not want you to shovel the .25" of ice that is on my drive.  I spread salt all over my stairs, my walk, and my drive before I left.  I think I'm good.  And if not?  I'll spread more when I get home.

What is it with me and yard people?

My first yard guy was a barely functioning alcoholic who would bring his 12 year old son to mow while he drank warm cans of Schlitz on my front porch steps.  I kept him on as long as possible until he brought along his nine-year old daughter to weed-eat the fence line ... while his son mowed ... both working in the rain.  No lie.  I wish I could make shit like this up.

My second yard guy was a gem ... a wonderful, amazing, elderly, grandfather-like man who I would've gladly hired forever ... but he tore his rotator cuff and decided he needed to "really" retire.  He offered to sell me his equipment ... but I could've no more driven his complicated lawn tractor as I could've sprouted wings and flown.  At that point, I considered buying a goat.

My third yard guy was another alcoholic ... apparently wealthy enough to have a crew he sent around to do yards.  I was "fortunate" enough that he did mine himself ... having one of his lackeys drive him to my house after he lost his license after his third DUI   He asked me out one summer ... and I politely refused.  He still mowed my yard ... but gave me regular updates on his dating life.  That was fun.  I prayed for snow that year.

This year, I don't have anyone lined up ... other than the guy who has been shoveling my driveway for the last two or three weeks.  I don't know if I can face an entire summer with him.  I can see it now ... him texting me every three days, "Can I mow your yard again?  I want to get a nice box of wine for my lady ..."

I bought you drinks, I brought you flowers
I read you books and talked for hours
Every day, so many drinks
Such pretty flowers, so tell me
What have I, what have I
What have I done to deserve this?
What have I, what have I
What have I done to deserve this?

Pet Shop Boys -
What Have I Done To Deserve This

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