Ice Scraping Days

Wielding the ice scraper is a necessary evil. It’s a little like picking up after a dog. If you paused to think what you were actually doing, you might feel like an idiot. So, I’m picking up this dog crap with a plastic bag glove? So, I’m churning away at my windshield with a plastic stick? You get the idea. Dogs were meant to do their business in open fields and windshields were meant to be cleared by the defroster, but that’s not the world we live in. It’s a testament to the weather we’ve been having that most people are probably excited to get a little ice. Compared to another foot of snow, some ice or some nice flooding rain would be a dream. Of course the ice brings out the scrapers. I could hear them outside my window this morning in the wee hours. Scrape, scrape, scrape. Like I said, it’s a maddening and menial task. It made me wonder what ice scraper scenarios would be the absolute worst?

I scanned through a lot of possibilities. There are many obvious things that come to mind. You’re late for work, you are up against the McDonalds breakfast deadline, your wife is in labor and hitting you with a blue streak of profanity, you have 30 seconds left on your meter and the maid is on the prowl…all those are inopportune times to need the scraper without a doubt. I got a little more creative, though. Imagine the horror of this scenario:

Everyone knows there is something called the walk of shame. But, there is also a drive of shame. What is this? Well, have you ever been too drunk to drive yourself home from a bar or similar location? You have to leave your car there and then the next day you have to find someone to take you back and get your wheels. There you are, at odd hours, wandering across the deserted parking lot to your car. Most people driving by are probably thinking, “look at that hot mess.”. It’s the drive of shame.

It happens all the time. Duffers has the drunk bus that drives people home and on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Their large parking lot is always dotted sporadically with a couple dozen cars all awaiting their pick-up. Bars aren’t the only place cars get left behind, though. What if you passed your tipping point at say, I don’t know, a strip club.

Strip clubs are, by rule, pretty shoddy structures. The words to describe their exteriors are often in the neighborhood of unassuming or plain, maybe ramshackle? They are generally meant to be approached in the hours of darkness. One neon sign and a healthy dose of anonymity. If you happen to pass a strip club by day you might not even take notice, or you might shiver at the overall seediness. The moral is, you don’t want to be seen anywhere near the Foxy Kitten Go-Go Bunny Lounge when the sun is up.

But, what if you were in need of a drive of shame? Your car was standing alone in the expansive parking lot and you needed to retrieve it. It’d be a mildly embarrassing endeavor would it not? Slinking across the parking lot, feeling the judging eyes on you from the passing cars. But now imagine that your car was in need of an ice scrape. Instead of a quick exit you have to stand there and saw away for what seems like an eternity while everyone and their mother drives by. There’d be a lot of shaking heads. And, I guarantee that at least one person would say, “at least I’m not that disaster, scraping ice of my car in the parking lot of Ken’s 10s at nine o’clock on a Saturday morning.”

So, there you go. That’s my worst case ice scraping scenario. If you’d like to try to top it, go right ahead.