It started snowing in our region of Ohio around 5:00 AM on Tuesday morning. The heavy snowfall fell for hours. When I left work at 3:30 PM, a giant, Caterpillar front loader was throwing sparks and snow across the ground in an attempt to clear the Big Box Shipping Company’s parking lot. The drive halfway home, and then back to work to figure which pile of snow held the cellphone I dropped on the way to my car, and then back home was slow and slippery.
I live in the boondocks of Northeastern Ohio. There is no police department in our township. There are only sheriffs. The fire department is completely volunteer. There are no city crews responsible for plowing the roads; we strictly rely on ODOT (the Ohio Department of Transportation). In a snowy situation such as this, it is almost pointless to attempt to leave your driveway in the morning after two days worth of heavy, thick snowfall. Oh, but I did.
Just after planting a goodbye kiss on his cheek, Dave mutter sleepily to “not stop at the end of the driveway.” Okay, I thought, that makes sense because there was about two feet left in the road and about two inches on the drive. Walking outside, I noticed that, at some point overnight, a plow carved a small tract of flattened snow to make a one-lane byway through our small outcropping of houses. So, upon reversing down the driveway, I floored it to prevent getting stuck in the drift of snow between the driveway and the cleared patch in the road. Easy enough, I thought, until I had to move forward from the reverse. I sat for a good 15 minutes trying to plow through snow in a plastic, front-wheel driver sedan as my neighbor stood in his driveway, leaned on his shovel, and watched me look like an asshole at 7:30 in the morning. I looked at him for a moment, wondering if the man that managed to get his chainsaw stuck in a tree and tried to pull it out with a rope would be of any real use in this sort of situation. I figured my situation would probably worsen if he were involved because his methodology would probably lead to beating my car with the shovel instead of actually digging my tires a small path to freedom. Instead, I burned some rubber and packed some snow by constantly throwing my car into forward and reverse. I am almost certain my own idiotic actions worked far better, even considering the toll that took on my little plastic-mobile.
Now, my relief arrives knowing that I only work until 3:30PM and the university already cancelled my evening classes. If only Big Box Shipping Companies did the same – that would be something to celebrate.