I would just like to post a public THANK YOU to the lion of a man who did me the kind service of plowing my car in the parking lot at work. I realize I was out of the office for about three minutes, and that in the plowing universe three minutes is enough time to clear off an entire Wal-Mart Parking lot and father three children- but I think maybe he could have waited the five minutes I had posted on the door to ask me to move my car.
Maybe he knew there was nothing I'd rather do than use an ice scraper to dig my car out in the subzero temperatures. I think when you look at my face, I seem like the kind of girl who loves to dig cars out of giant piles of compacted snow. He probably caught a glimpse of me and said, "Merry Christmas Sweetheart" and then kindly took all the snow he could possibly gather and nestled it up as close as possible to my tires.
This will be the fourth or fifth time in three days my car will have been stuck in the snow, so I'm more or less a professional in these situations. I find the best way to get your car out of the snow is to use all of the force humanly possible and attack the snow like an animal or someone rescuing a (presumably worthwhile) person from an avalanche. This involves furious stabbing with an ice scraper and furious digging with your own hands. If you can get generally furious with the snow you will win. Yes, you will somehow get snow down your shirt and freeze your boobs but it's worth it because you get to drive your car until it gets stuck in some other wayward snow bank, where you will be tested by the elements once again.
Moral of the Story: There is nothing better than being plowed in by a guy who looks like he probably stole beer from Ratt's dressing room.
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