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| 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.
