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Traffic comes in threes
Dec. 28th, 2004 12:56 amLife has so many curves to it.
I was driving back from Utica when I got caught in the snow storm. I was driving about 50 MPH through the Berkshires, then back up to 65 around Springfield. Then came Sturbridge, where it really slowed down. Lanes disappeared. I stepped down to third gear. WBZ was going on about the storm. They were taking calls from drivers. Too many calls from the south shore, I thought. So I set my cel phone to redial. On the fifth ring, I got through.
The guy running the show was anti-SUV. Some dude braving Mass Pike in a Beetle was the best tonic. So I had a couple minutes on the air. I still like AM radio sometimes.
Cut to an hour and change later. I was amazed to find parking within a block of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
michigansundog's place during a snow emergency. I had a great time, made a new friend.
Cut to a few hours afte that. I had a very slow drive home from the South End along 93. I got to my driveway. Of course it hadn't been plowed. That's not in the deal where I live. I learned this the hard way last year. So I started blasting my car through the driveway. I got all the way around the building only to get kinda stuck partly in the road.
I see a plow finishing a cul-de-sac. It's 3:30 in the morning. I walk into the road. He starts to drive passed me but then stops. He rolls down his window.
"How would you like forty bucks to make a single path?" I offer.
"What, you want me to push you out?" he asks.
"Nah, I'll deal with that. I drove all the way from Utica. What's ten feet?"
"Wait, didn't I hear on the radio earlier? You're the guy! Wow, that was you!"
We got to talking. He owns a new Beetle as well (he gussied it up for his summer job, extermination). He was amazed at my balls to drive it in the winter. I told him other tales. He told me he had way too many gigs tonight. He drove off.
I rocked my car some more, burned a little off my new tires, and then rocked out into the street and around the building again. Just as I was backing that car in for the night, he swung by. He made a gorgeous path in the driveway. He hit the back fence, but it was still worth $40. He gave me his card. "I'll stop by in the morning when the cars are gone to tidy it up."
This morning I got out without much effort and got to work way early. Then I got home and found a message on the answering machine. It was the landlady, looking for who hired the plow that hurt the neighbor's fence.
I should explain that this fence is not an heirloom. It's a boring steel fence, the kind that would keep someone out of a junk yard more often than a back yard. None of the posts got hit. There is denting of a couple plastic sliders shoved between the grills. There is not much interesting about this fence.
At first I was debating not admitting knowledge of the event, fearing I'd be out tons of money. Besides, she's got no evidence to link it to me, right? Who am I kidding? I'm the newest tenant even after a year and a half and I'll likely never shake that. However, I know my landlady too well. She weirds me a little but I have no reason to lie to her and I don't want to start now. I'll call her in morning and admit I'd hired the plow (since, as she freely admits in her message, she hadn't) and I'll pay the neighbors. If those clothesline-burdening schmucks (the same ones that stared all day when I was shoveling last year and shoved their snow on my work) want me to deal with it, I shall. I'll give them money.
In the spring. When land thaws. When we can get a real estimate on the value of one yard of coil fence.
Still, it's a good tale of serendipity. I reached out, got found, made a connection, solved a problem, got a new problem in return. Karma swirled like a rival religion's dervish.
Then again, none of this would've been necessary if I didn't need to get to work. I'd still be in Utica, dying from fear of the world. I've been in Boston five years as of Saturday. I couldn't be more grateful.
I was driving back from Utica when I got caught in the snow storm. I was driving about 50 MPH through the Berkshires, then back up to 65 around Springfield. Then came Sturbridge, where it really slowed down. Lanes disappeared. I stepped down to third gear. WBZ was going on about the storm. They were taking calls from drivers. Too many calls from the south shore, I thought. So I set my cel phone to redial. On the fifth ring, I got through.
The guy running the show was anti-SUV. Some dude braving Mass Pike in a Beetle was the best tonic. So I had a couple minutes on the air. I still like AM radio sometimes.
Cut to an hour and change later. I was amazed to find parking within a block of
michigansundog's place during a snow emergency. I had a great time, made a new friend.Cut to a few hours afte that. I had a very slow drive home from the South End along 93. I got to my driveway. Of course it hadn't been plowed. That's not in the deal where I live. I learned this the hard way last year. So I started blasting my car through the driveway. I got all the way around the building only to get kinda stuck partly in the road.
I see a plow finishing a cul-de-sac. It's 3:30 in the morning. I walk into the road. He starts to drive passed me but then stops. He rolls down his window.
"How would you like forty bucks to make a single path?" I offer.
"What, you want me to push you out?" he asks.
"Nah, I'll deal with that. I drove all the way from Utica. What's ten feet?"
"Wait, didn't I hear on the radio earlier? You're the guy! Wow, that was you!"
We got to talking. He owns a new Beetle as well (he gussied it up for his summer job, extermination). He was amazed at my balls to drive it in the winter. I told him other tales. He told me he had way too many gigs tonight. He drove off.
I rocked my car some more, burned a little off my new tires, and then rocked out into the street and around the building again. Just as I was backing that car in for the night, he swung by. He made a gorgeous path in the driveway. He hit the back fence, but it was still worth $40. He gave me his card. "I'll stop by in the morning when the cars are gone to tidy it up."
This morning I got out without much effort and got to work way early. Then I got home and found a message on the answering machine. It was the landlady, looking for who hired the plow that hurt the neighbor's fence.
I should explain that this fence is not an heirloom. It's a boring steel fence, the kind that would keep someone out of a junk yard more often than a back yard. None of the posts got hit. There is denting of a couple plastic sliders shoved between the grills. There is not much interesting about this fence.
At first I was debating not admitting knowledge of the event, fearing I'd be out tons of money. Besides, she's got no evidence to link it to me, right? Who am I kidding? I'm the newest tenant even after a year and a half and I'll likely never shake that. However, I know my landlady too well. She weirds me a little but I have no reason to lie to her and I don't want to start now. I'll call her in morning and admit I'd hired the plow (since, as she freely admits in her message, she hadn't) and I'll pay the neighbors. If those clothesline-burdening schmucks (the same ones that stared all day when I was shoveling last year and shoved their snow on my work) want me to deal with it, I shall. I'll give them money.
In the spring. When land thaws. When we can get a real estimate on the value of one yard of coil fence.
Still, it's a good tale of serendipity. I reached out, got found, made a connection, solved a problem, got a new problem in return. Karma swirled like a rival religion's dervish.
Then again, none of this would've been necessary if I didn't need to get to work. I'd still be in Utica, dying from fear of the world. I've been in Boston five years as of Saturday. I couldn't be more grateful.
