Oh snow, how I loathe thee. Seriously snow is one of my worst enemies in the world. It brings along crappy driving conditions, general freezing temperatures, ice, and numerous other aspects of life I do not enjoy. In my strong distaste for snow I often allow myself to go without acknowledging its existence, which tends to backfire. Case and point: the other week a snowstorm breezed through Vermont dumping almost 3 ft of snow in my general area. I of course went to work sans snow boots or any general winter gear and emerged at 1o PM to find about 7 inches of wet, sloppy, evil snow lying about the ground and my car. Perfect.
I begin to clear my car off while wearing slightly over-sized ballet flats with my ridiculous and obscenely large fur hood up, all the while muttering to myself about what a crap state Vermont is. In the midst of my under-my-breath rant I spot a triangular bobbing shape in my peripheral sights. I struggle to push my hood up and peer over to the front of my car to spot my local sheriff (read as – mall cop with a serious sense of duty) clearing the front half of my car off. Totally surprised someone is being so nice I go to shout, “Thank you!” and in the process I begin to slip on the compacted snow around my feet. Ah yes, oversized idiotic footwear strikes.
Just as I get out the word “thank,” my right foot shoots out from under me wildly in some sort of high kick action which tosses one of my lovely leopard print flats behind the car next to me as my body crumples to the ground in the snow, landing my face right in the delicious stream of exhaust my car is putting out.
Now I fall often and can usually recover abnormally quickly. However, this move threw me for a loop and it took me a good 30 seconds to pop back up and realize I was missing a shoe. Miraculously the mall cop apparently had not witnessed any of these super sweet moves and simply tapped his hat and told me to drive safe and then walked away. (And yes, I will maintain he saw nothing and was not simply trying to spare my feelings or assumed I had escaped from a nearby mental asylum.)
Thinking I was alone I hop over to the car next to me and begin searching for the lost flat from hell when a head pops around the corner and looks down at me. (Keep in mind, I am currently balanced on one foot with both hands digging in the snow behind this stranger’s car.) A rather attractive male is looking down at me like I’m from another planet and before he can even begin to ask me what I am doing I find my shoe, pop it back on and say, “Um yes, well … drive safe!” Fabulous. I then drove the hour home with two soaking wet feet. Snow, you are the worst.