Dear Digidiary,
My goodness, gracious it’s a frackin’ awesome day to be alive. Specifically in my neck of the wilderness. You see, today is the day when Burlington Department of Public Works gets off its fat duff and cleans my street. Last night I was alerted to this supremely awesome turn of events by little yellow signs stuck in the snow hillocks outside my house. This morning at oh-late-hundred hours, I awoke to the dulcet tones of dueling beeps, signaling the snow removal had begun. Huzzah!
So here’s my theory as to why they’re removing the snow now as opposed to two or three weeks ago. A couple days ago a rescue crew arrived on our street (not an uncommon occurrence, as I am often beating people to bloody pulps in my neighborhood). And by arrived on our street I mean that it got about an eighth of the way down the one-way street before the snarl of cars scuttled its efforts to proceed to the party in need.
Apparently having cars parked on either side of the street makes it impossible for any vehicle bigger than a Smart Car (see ridiculous Euro photo below) to pass without risking that the rearview mirrors will be sheared off.
Tight squeeze.
On the night that the rescue crew couldn’t reach its victim, my neighbor knocked on my door. She was all like “Can you move your car? The ambulance has to get through.” And I was all like “Um, I’m in my pajamas already.” And she was all like “Well, could you move the car in your pajamas? The ambulance can’t get through.” And I was all like “Well, I’m pretty comfy lying on the couch in my p-jammers. Maybe you could find someone else to move their car.” And she was all like “Lauren, one of our neighbors is dying down the street. You need to move your car now!” And I was all like “Uh, I don’t think you can die from hemorrhoids.” And she was all like “I hate you Ginger Devil!” And I was all like “Whatever, pregnant lady. Or are you just really fat?”
Anyway, the long of the short of it is that I did in fact move my car, but it turns out that the ambulance didn’t even move from its spot four houses up from the alleged victim. So basically I had to run outside in my pink flannel pajamas for nothing. So lame.
So that’s what I think prompted this snow removal situation today.
Like I mentioned before, my street is a one-way street. It’s maybe about the length of a football field, if the football field was for pygmies. And yet the snow removal firepower out on the street this very second would rival the snow removal program of any major city south of the Mason Dixon line. At the moment there are four huge plow trucks idling on a side street, two front loaders working my street like sassy little harlots and a little Bobcat skid-steer loader that is suffering from a major inferiority complex around all those monster trucks. See photographic masterworks below:
Front loader pushing snow. Riveting.
Two vehicles consorting.
Gas-guzzlers spewing toxic greenhouse gases. Take that, Bill McKibben!
As I write this, the backing up beeping has ceased. Oh wait, no there it goes again. Maybe they were on a tea break.
Needless to say, I’m pretty bleeping excited about this new turn of events on my street. We have long been ignored by the DPW and it’s about time they recognize us. Now if the city would only do something about the two treacherous blind spots at the end of the street, I’d be a happy kid.
Oh, and a video, just because I love you:
Nice read. I hope you’re planning to get a pickup truck for next year. It hardly looks like you can get out your driveway if those plows didn’t come by.
Snow Removal