It’s pretty obvious who wins this battle.
The moral to the story is: Don’t piss off a Snow Plow Truck Driver. So feel free to skip the rest of this post. What follows is all of the useless details that make the story extra funny to me and perhaps my family.
The story starts three days ago at about six o’clock in the evening. Our land line rang and the caller ID said it was city hall. Because none of us owe city hall any money, we figured it was safe to answer. It was a robocall from our newly elected small town mayor. We call him Mayor NoNeck Jr. due to the physical deformities caused by his steroid use while he was in high school. (We feel Mayor NoNeck Jr. is a kinder nickname than the one for his other steroid induced deformity.) It’s kind of tough to blame the poor kid for juicing. His father, a known juicer himself, has been the high school football coach for the last twenty some years.
As part of the new reverse 911 system the young Mayor NoNeck was calling to inform us that he had declared a snow emergency and that there was a parking ban. No parking on the streets of our tiny town for the next 48 hours.
We were expecting three to six inches of snow overnight followed by rain, followed by sleet, followed by freezing rain in the morning, followed by another three to six inches of snow overnight followed by rain, followed by sleet, followed by freezing rain the next morning.
What we found the first morning was only three inches of snow with a crusty top about a half inch thick. It was raining but I figured it was better to lift three inches of slush twice than to try to lift six inches of icy slush once. I should mention we do have one of those new modern snow blowers; however we’ve found that if the snow is actually heavy enough that you’d want to use it, that’s when it’s too heavy for the machine.
I started shoveling the driveway where it meets the road. Our home is on the side of a hill and the steep part of the driveway is towards the street. I thought I’d get a head start by doing a quick first pass on the hard part before the apron was plowed in. No plows had hit our road… yet.
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