Snow
job
By Alun
Thomas
Whenever there's a blizzard or
heavy snow I am guaranteed to be caught in the middle of it. Working a third
shift job doesn't help my cause much, but if there's one thing I've come to
loathe about this area it is snow. And after the disastrous storm of December
1st I hope I never see it again. Like all of us I have been caught driving in
snowstorms plenty of times, but this put them all to shame. Some of you may be
laughing to yourself, 'he should have been here in 79 then!', but having lived
here for eight years I missed the horror snowstorms of years past. But with
plenty of advance warning about the recent avalanche of snow I thought I might
try to beat it. I failed.
Nothing strikes fear into me more
than driving in snow. Having rarely encountered the stuff until moving to this
glorious state I was appalled by it the first few times I was forced to
navigate through it. The amount of concentration it takes to overcome the
elements is what drives me to near insanity. Living forty miles out from my job
is another detriment. So with the warnings out about the impending storm I got
to work early to overcome the odds and get home before the gates opened. The
snow was scheduled to start around midnight. At seven pm I looked outside. It
had already begun. It wouldn't be half as bad if I lived nearby, but the
impending drive home slowly turned me into a madman.
At one thirty am I made my way out. One
of my workmates had scraped my frozen windows for me. My hats off to you son.
My drive home takes forty minutes most nights. It took me ten minutes to drive
a mile. I asked myself how I was going to do this. I turned on the radio for
consolation. I determined it too difficult to listen. With a blanket of snow
showering me I could only focus on the icy, shit road. My crawl had officially
begun. Almost immediately a cannon of trucks barreled by me. Is there anything
worse in those conditions? Already finding visibility impossible, a truck
speeding by, mere inches from hitting me and sending me to my death is madness
in its most pure form.
But there is madness beyond that. What
I kept dwelling on mentally is that I am risking my life, all for some low
paying, nowhere, inferior manual labour job far beneath my talents. You must
make the job! If I had called in I would have been considered weak. 'The other
guys who live out near you made it in' would have been the comment. Yes but
they are far stupider than I. Supposedly. So this is what we do for our
precious jobs that most of us revile. We put our lives on the line because of
the fear we may lose our jobs or a day of pay and trudge through the most
reprehensible of weather to make it. Someone shoot me now. These thoughts ran
through my head continually.
As the snow got heavier I made my exit
onto the rural roads out near the village in which I waste my life in. On the
exit ramp several cars and trucks had
pulled over rather than risk it. I'll show them! They had the right
idea. Visibility was zero thanks to vast, open fields. I was travelling five
miles an hour. I only kept in a straight line by looking at the ditch on the
side of the road. I considered stopping right there and letting the snow bury
me. It would have been less painful than driving in it. But I perservered. What
on earth I had done to deserve this hell I do not know I wondered. Take me to a
warm state. Is it any wonder states like Nevada and Arizona are prospering? Who
in their right mind would elect to move to Illinois? Why didn't I do more
research before I moved here? Eight years is a long time. But I'll never get used
to the cold and snow. Never.
After two painstaking hours I
made it home. The mental strain and anguish was unbelievable. Hunched over for
two hours, eyes wide open, trying to keep from sliding off the road, unable to
see a yard ahead of you. Bollocks! It made me physically ill the whole weekend.
I later learned that the four people I work with who live out near me all got
stuck or slid into a ditch. I was the only one who made it unscathed. Me the
foreigner. The ubiquitously tough New Zealander made of iron steel. Now also a
nervous wreck checking the weather every day for snow, living in fear. I
wouldn't want to miss work after all! Actually I would. The chances of me
driving in that, knowing it will happen again are less than zero. Not for some
ridiculous job. Not for anything.