If you don't live in Texas, you might not get this. But, if you do, and you are a transplant from a Northern state, you'll be all "Right on, sister!"
It is Thursday. I am looking at beautiful, soft, quarter-sized pieces of snow drifting down to the ground. Since early this morning, we've accumulated about 2 inches. It is as close to perfect as I can imagine.
Overnight, the base of this glory, which resembles a Slurpee in consistency, is going to freeze. And all Hades* is going to break loose here.
People in Texas don't know how to drive on rain, much less snow and ice. They are all about getting in their four-door, Hemi-powered, chrome-steps-added-to-the-sides trucks and barreling down the freeway at about 90mph, all while drinking a long-neck Lone Star beer and spitting Copenhagen in the empty bottle they finished for breakfast. If you can imagine the kind of driving I'm talking about, that's pretty much what it's going to be like in this town after the sun goes down.
In case you are pre-breakfast and the neurons aren't firing: You don't want to be on the road in Texas during a snow storm.
The rest of the year? That truck driving son-of-a-gun won't bother me. He's used to doing his thang. I've learned to spot his sort from twenty paces and my fingers dial 9-1-1 faster than a chinchilla can spot an opening in his cage and sprint out of a fur factory.
But, tonight? Short of an emergency appendectomy, running out of Lone Star, or hearing I won the lottery and needing to drive to Austin?
My derriere is staying home.
*And you thought I was going to waste a quarter? Ha.
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