Lube It Up - Winter In Minneapolis

Today we have a guest blogger, Pistola Whipped, who has been kind enough to share her story about trying to get to work this morning.

So, today, on the coldest day so far this year, I dropped my car off at the Metro Auto Clinic, a mere five blocks from work. The attendant said, 'Stay warm out there,' laughing and smiling like he said the funniest thing in the world. Oddly enough, I returned the obvious Minnesota weather joke, 'It's so cold out…it hurts'. He countered, still grinning like he had a tire jack sprung tightly in between his jaws, 'Ya know, they say if you think it's cold out it'll hurt worse, but if you think it's not cold out than IT STILL HURTS!' This sent him into such a state of hysterics I think the steel in his boots even bended a bit. I gave him a cursory chuckle wondering when he was going to offer a courtesy ride to work. Evidently they only reserve that sort of nicety when it's a pleasant 70 degrees and sunny because no such offer came my way today. We finished up our business and I wandered off into the cold, thinking that had to be one of the stupidest conversations to ever take place between two human beings IN THE UNIVERSE! Luckily, it annoyed me enough to make my blood boil and not freeze in mid-step on my lousy way to work. All the while, the wind blew at my back causing me to weave between the ice-topped snow banks lining the sidewalks. Each step caused me to do a half-turn, where I could view oncoming motorists, their hair blowing wildly from the forced heat flowing freely from the car vents. My face repeatedly froze into different vowel shapes as I cursed every swear word I've ever known. I wove my way to the intersection I cross to get to work. It’s a real humdinger at Hoover Street and East Hennepin. East Hennepin being the main thoroughfare to Highway 280, the stoplight stays green about 15 seconds for the Hoover Street crosswalk, naturally the crosswalk I needed to use. Fortunately, I approached the intersection as the East Hennepin light was working its way through yellow. I was about to charge through, when a Metro Transit Bus blew through the red light, sending up such a blast of dirty, cold air that I think I entered simultaneously into stage four lung cancer and advanced hypothermia. After the initial shock settled, I turned my fury onto the city of Minneapolis for training their bus drivers to push through yellow-red lights. Thus ensuring that 40 or so people make it to work in a timely manner instead of one lone pedestrian trying to figure out if a whopping traumatic brain injury or a congenital death wish was the reason I lived in this cursed state anyway.

Thanks to Pistola Whipped for contributing this story of winter in Minneapolis.