We definitely got more than the reported 2 inches of snow yesterday. It snowed from about 8 in the morning to about 9 last night. Brian went out and shoveled around 6:30, and cleaned my car off for me, too. (aw)
So this morning, I go out and my damn car's covered in snow! Fine. So I turn the car on and let the defroster go at full blast. Then I get out of the car and open the rear door on the driver's side to get out my ice scraper/snow getter-offer thingy. And lo and behold, it's not there!! What the...
Admittedly, my car isn't immaculate. There is shit all over the backseat. But still, I always keep the snow getter-offer in the same spot on the floor right under my seat. It wasn't freaking there. I went through everything in the back of the car and it was just gone. I even looked in my trunk. No dice.
I can only assume that when I got my car fixed earlier this year after it was rear ended that the people who fixed it stole my snow getter-offer. I'm pissed. I really liked that thing, and it wasn't cheap.
So what did I do to clean the snow off my car (that was about 3 inches thick, might I add)? I took my yoga mat, which hasn't seen a yoga studio in well over a year, and brushed all the snow off with it. It wasn't the best, but it worked and I got to the subway station in no time.
Which leads me to my next story. I sit down on the subway and open 'Eat, Pray, Love' which is just fantastic, by the way. Aaahhh.
And then this freak with a ski cap on and a coat that says 'Ferrari' across the back sits down next to me. His knuckles were as hairy as my head. I am pointedly reading my book. The train hasn't even started yet. And he asks, "Are you getting off at Charles Center?" To which I reply, "No," and go back to reading my book.
And then he has the nerve to ask a follow-up question. "Well, where are you getting off?" Well I never! I looked down at his hairy knuckles and up at his face and said, "Shot Tower." And he said, "Okay, that works."
Um, what? As if he was giving me permission to get off at that stop. I just rolled my eyes and went back to reading.
I know why he asked me, too. He asked me because most people get off at Charles Center, and that way he won't have to get up to let me out of my seat (I had a window seat) BEFORE Charles Center, because clearly that's where he was going. I get off at Shot Tower, the stop after Charles Center.
I almost told that hairy bastard to go drive his Ferrari.