|One reason why Montana, winter and I are friends.|
It’s November and the snow has begun to fly in Montana. Winter is here and likely will be here for the next four or five months. Or it could be really awesome again this year and snow in May, drawing the whole damn thing out to six glorious months of ice, cold and overcast skies. Now for the record I’m only partially complaining. I like winter. Winter lets me ski, wear cute sweaters, cuddle, buy boots and have an excuse to shave my legs less often. I just don’t need to do those things for the half the year.
A lot of people don’t share my love for the colder part of the year. With Montana being full of transplants from warmer climates – specifically California – real winter can be a bit of a shock to the system for some. Suddenly they’re faced with lots of real, bone-chilling cold. They have to deal with snow. And then they realize they actually have to function in it. Because in Montana life doesn’t stop for two inches of snow. Or two feet.
Once upon a time, we had a Hooters Girl who had recently relocated from Arizona. Just barely eighteen, she had followed her football-playing boyfriend who had accepted a scholarship at The University of Montana. While he spent the day in classes and practice, she worked at Hooters.
And then one fall morning it was actually a little cold. I say a little cold because there was no snow and the sun was shinning, but there was frost. Trees, grass and windshields were all covered in a delicate layer of crystalized white. After a little scrapping and a bit of a defrosting, I made me way to work ready to open the store.
Cleaning tables, the clock crept closer and closer to eleven. At 10:40 one of the two eleven girls made her way into the store to ready herself for her shift. Minutes ticked by and Arizona, our second eleven o’clock, was nowhere to be found. 10:40 became 10:45, which in turn became 10:50. With eleven imminent, the phone rang.
“OhMYgod, there is something all over my car and I can’t get it off!”
Arizona was panicked on the other end of the line.
Arizona: “There is white stuff on my windows and stuff and I tried to like wipe it off with my wipers but it’s still there.”
Sauce: “Do you mean the frost? You need to scrape that off or turn on your car and let it heat up.”
Arizona: “Well when I called my dad he said I could push the button with the wavy lines and that it would go away. But I did that and it’s still there!”
Sauce: “Well did you wait a little bit?”
Arizona: “No, shouldn’t it just go away?!”
For a moment I was at a total loss for words. I explained that no, it wouldn’t go away instantly. She would have to wait – because of course she had no windshield scraper.
A few minutes passed, the frost cleared and Arizona let us know she was on her way. It was very, very apparent that winter and Arizona wouldn’t be getting along very well.
And of course I was right. After just a couple months of snow, Arizona packed her things, shipped them back home and hopped a plane back to the sunshine. Some people just aren’t built for Montana it seems. Neither are rear wheel drive sports cars.