Photo: OMG Dear Reader, it’s so cold outside. (How cold is it?) It’s so cold, the Charles is frozen over! Brrrrrrr!
Dear Readers not here in Massachusetts probably don’t know that we got a big storm on Saturday night and into Sunday. The timing was a mixed blessing: no work/school disruption, but if you were planning to party on Saturday night, you probably needed to change your plans. This would normally not pose a problem for me and The Husband (we don’t party), but… well, we had plans to party on Saturday night.
The party isn’t actually the story, but it’s an important detail. You see, we had a babysitter, we went to our party (I ate kangaroo! Whaaaaaa??). By the time we drove home at 9pm, the roads were pretty slushy and slippery. I was so grateful for the AWD. Driving in the snow sucks. Anyway, the babysitter insisted she could drive in it (she was fine), so she left and The Husband and I settled into a night of video games (introverts need to come down from social occasions, of course).
We live at the bottom of a deceptively steep hill. Every snow storm, someone wipes out at the bottom of it. We never see the crash, but we usually hear it and then can see the flashing lights of the aftermath afterward. Every snowstorm, we smirk and say to each other, “how many idiots are going to bite it on the hill this year?” The current record is 3.
Well, there we were, 11:30 at night, and we hear the tell-tale spinning of wheels and groaning of a straining engine. “Never fails,” I said. “Yup,” The Husband said. We continued on with our video game. The spinning went on.
That’s when I did something that wasn’t very kind. The lights were on in the dining room and the blinds were up. I decided to get up, pull down the blind and turn off the lights… just in case the idiot decided to come up the driveway looking for help. I know, this is not the right thing to do. I know that this was a wrong action to take. “Not the right, Christian thing to do,” I told my Mom on Sunday.
God answered my unkind heart with a one hell of a sight:
“Oh my God! This idiot IS IN THE YARD! HE’S IN THE FUCKING YARD!”
“HE’S IN THE YARD!”
Right in the front yard was a Kia Soul, spinning and turning, practically doing donuts in my front yard.
We both jumped up. Thank God we were both still dressed. I flew to the porch and turned on the lights. The put on my boots and got my phone. “I’m taking pictures of his licence plate! I can’t wait to get his info!” I put on my coat and bolted out the door.
The car had come to a stop just next to my precious blackberry bushes, between the trees where my pachysandra grow. I approached the car and saw inside none other than my next door neighbor, we’ll call her Krista for the purposes of this post. Longtime Dear Readers might remember that Krista showed up out of the blue 2 years ago, claiming she was staying for only the summer, but ended up moving into my next neighbor’s house permanently. She is in her 50s, works to pay rent to my 86 year-old neighbor who owns the house, and is supposedly “in love” with the 60ish year-old man who lives in that house and does nothing but scream at his mother. I don’t think highly of Krista, but she has been pretty harmless until now.
The man driving the Kia Soul was not Krista’s supposed boyfriend. He was another man. Another man who was high or drunk or possibly both.
“Hi Kyra… we accidentally drove off the driveway,” Krista said.
“Yeah, uh. I’m calling AAA,” Dude Bro said.
The last thing I needed was a tow truck further destroying my yard. “Do you have 4-wheel drive? Do you think we could figure this out ourselves?”
“Well, nobody here drives manual,” Dude Bro said.
“[The Husband] drives stick. He’ll be here in a sec,” I answered, not screaming, not cursing, totally calm.
Crickets. Nothing. I don’t know why I wasn’t screaming or cursing or kicking this dude’s car.
The Husband showed up, Dude Bro Man was too out of it to do much but take instructions. The Husband suggested we’d push them out. Dude Bro complied.
It took a bit of work, but we (mostly The Husband) got them out of the yard and back on the driveway. I went back to the house in disgust. The Husband said that Krista sheepishly slinked back into her house. We both noticed that her supposed boyfriend didn’t come out to help, didn’t greet her at the door, didn’t thank us for the help. Cool.
When I told my mom this story on Sunday afternoon, she said, “I’m so glad you were there. Can you imagine how your babysitter would have felt!?” For real. That would have been a pretty abrupt end to our party and a pretty disruptive episode for our babysitter. The thing that gets me is how close they got to my septic system and to my porch. Much more slipping and sliding could have caused considerable damage!
Because of the snow, the rivets and mess they made is currently covered up. We won’t get a full view of it for a few more days. The Husband says it’s easily fixed, so he doesn’t care. I’m holding my
grudge opinion until I see the damage in the light of day.
Anyway, the moral of the story is: please don’t operate a vehicle in the snow while inebriated. Please don’t get in the car with an inebriated person. If you’re high or drunk or whatever, please don’t destroy other people’s stuff. Please, just be cool.
Can’t we all just be cool, dammit?
I’ll see you Friday for Quiet Thoughts.