Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Snow. Ugh.

And yet, it keeps falling. Who did we piss off to make it snow like this? All I want is summer. I want pedicures and pretty toenails. I want tank tops. I want shaving my legs and armpits to mean something. I want to go outside without 15 minutes of coating, mittening, scarfing, hatting and booting. I want soft skin. I want to open all the windows of the house. I. Want. Summer.

On the weekend I was coming home on a 4-lane road from the grocery store and the snow was really starting to come down. I was slowly driving behind two plows driving staggered behind each other as they so often do. No problem since they were literally clearing the way for me. (Hey it is Karenworld after all).

Anyway, for reasons known only to God and those 2 plow drivers, they decided to do a 3 point turn in the middle of the road. I waited an intelligent distance behind the two trucks to let them do their thing. I notice coming up behind me on that slippery road, this fool in a Hummer (naturally) who was driving way too fast. He drove up to where I was waiting then swerved around me into the oncoming traffic. Thankfully no one was coming the other way. The trucks were now perpendicular to me and the road and Hummer idiot almost crashed into the blade of one of the plows. It was one of the scariest things I ever saw on the road. I even covered my eyes as it was happening. I thought for sure I'd be a witness to something nasty. Fortunately for him (yet unfortunately for natural selection) nothing happened but, man, it was close.

This is Canada, people. It snows here. Please drive accordingly. Don't tailgate me. Drive at the speed you'd like to crash at. Make no sudden moves. That's all I ask. And while I'm on a rant, Can you please brush off your car? Don't just get in, run the windshield wipers and drive off. Brush the snow off your hood, roof and taillights. Snow flies off and endangers not only others but yourself. The taillights because, I don't know, maybe I'd like to know you're about to stop? Call me crazy. And while you're at it, brush off your licence plate so I know who I'm reporting to the cops other than "the fool in the Passat reading the sports page at the traffic lights whose car looks like a rolling snowbank." Thanks.

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