Dear Weather Gods,
Ok, I know it’s the holiday season and you are entitled to a little “cheer” like anyone else, but I think you’ve been hitting the grog a little too hard. Day after day of sub-freezing temperatures plus our usual dose of precipitation has resulted in 8-10 inches of snow all over Seattle. What, did you take off to visit Grandmama and forget to turn the snower off? Don’t you know this city only owns three snow plows, and they are all driven by aging stoner hippies named Monty?
Dudes, does the word “temperate” mean nothing to any of you?
Yes, I know, I’m not supposed to be here whining at you about the weather. I’m supposed to be in a Vegas casino swigging free well drinks and playing the slots. But,
- It snowed in Vegas too
- Your failure to turn off the spigot shut SeaTac airport down, and
- We canceled the trip anyway, which I’m sure you knew, being omniscient and everything
It’s amazing to watch the bizarre things people here find it necessary to do when it snows. The guy around the corner spent hours shoveling a path from his door down to the sidewalk and around to his driveway instead of just walking through the snow. Another guy used a little scrub brush, the kind with a handle on the top like you might use to scrub the floor of your shower stall, if weather gods take showers, to remove every last flake of snow from his car. You guys must be watching, mugs of grog in hand, laughing your asses off.
So this whole “vacation” has been a bust so far, except for my daily walk to Starbucks. That’s what it’s come to. Please down some coffee, put on some clean clothes, and send back the 40-50 degrees and drizzling that we are all accustomed to. The Monties would like to go home for Christmas.
Your friend (usually),