While some out here in the frozen tundra of the upper Midwest are cranky about the inevitable fall of the lovely white stuff that is snow, some of us, namely this Pacific Northwest transplant, delight in it.
Especially as we live in the country (no sidewalks to shovel in the grim before-work darkness, trala-trala) and have a garage (no car to shovel in the grim before-work darkness, tralalalala).
True, there is no covered parking while actually AT work, but this is usually a minor problem.
Yesterday, being a holiday in honor of our beloved Dr Martin Luther King, some
of us had no school while others
of us had to drive in to work.
As it was icy and snowy and the snow was blowing, and it was all dark (and who knows if the deer will be sensible and stay under cover in the trees and not take to leaping to and fro across the highway) some of us convinced others of us to take the shameful SUV into work.
One of us adores the shameful SUV. He also is sadly right when he says that we need to hang on to the gas glutton for the 10-20 times a winter that we really need it to get through to work. The other of us hates the damned thing (but also acknowledges that it is, indeed, paid off and can't really justify selling it for something more efficiently 4WD and built like a tank, if indeed such a vehicle exists) . It is also the vehicle that transports the dog and is, therefore, the vehicle that the dog barfs in.
Currently, it has one of those tree-shaped air perfumers to try to combat the smell of dog barf. As a result, it smells like the dog barfed cheap floral perfume. Some of us have assured others of us that this is a vast improvement in odor. Others of us have decided to take his word for it.
So, off I go, hating yet needing this 12 mpg monstrosity that smells like a whore who is still sleeping off her binge and has not realized she has gotten sick all over her lycra leggings. My head aches but I arrive in the parking area at work, safe and sound.
I get out.
I stand by the door in the snow and watch and hear as the door is locked by pressing the 'lock' button of one of those keyless remotes.
I made a point of it.
I go to work.
I leave work.
I wonder why the hell all the windows except
the front driver's and passenger's windows are covered in an inch of snow.
Well, that would be because both windows are completely open.
The said inch of snow is a lovely white blanket covering every irregular surface of the car's interior.
In a situation like this, one can either cry or bring a blunt instrument in to play or laugh. As my co-worker, L, was there, with sympathy, giggles and snow brush in hand, I chose the laughter. Tears would have frozen to my lashes and made it hard to see the snow I had to scoop out of the car. The blunt instrument wasn't at hand.
So, we removed as much snow as we could and the rest melted all over everything on the way home.
On the plus side, though, the car aired out nicely and only vaguely smelled as it had.
How the windows opened? I have no clue.
I can swear they weren't down during the drive in. I was a bit sleepy but would certainly have noticed wind and snow blowing in on me as I drove along behind the plows.
I can swear that they weren't lowered on accident as I bumped something as I got out. The window lowering control is a lever way away from what I'd reach. Plus, the car was turned off when I got out.
The windows don't lower unless the engine is on.
There's no 'lower windows' button on the keyless remote, so even had it gotten bumped in my purse, it would only have unlocked things or set off the alarm. Plus, again, engine off.
All I can figure out is that either someone snuck in, rifled through my purse, took the keys, went out and did this on purpose (which is pretty unfathomable as we are not that sort, here, AND this is not the car I drive, well, ever, as we drive in together unless he's off or there's some late meeting for one of us) OR the car did it on purpose as it knows how I feel about it.
So, let this be a cautionary tale for you. Beware what you say around your machines for they may well turn on you. They certainly can hold a grudge.