When I came home from work yesterday, I would have parked in the driveway except for this ginormous blown-down tree. Here's a tally of how much Tom owes me:
- On Saturday, I told Tom he should move his car from its normal parking spot or I would probably burn a hole in it. He begrudgingly complied. He was very "busy" upstairs playing with his computer. I noticed his sour look despite my welding helmet, which really does a number on your capacity for astute observations. I crank it up to the max-14 total-darkness setting. Which is why I have a tendency to weld thumbs and fiberglass autobodies. Tom re-parked completely over on the bleeding edge of the driveway. He knows this.
Later that afternoon, we went to the City for a long weekend. Which meant Tom's car was still parked way over there when the tree fell down. And crushed the exact spot where Tom's car has normally been parked every single day since forever.
- After I paused in stunned surprise and quietly google-eyed the smashed oak blanketing our driveway with tree carcass, I came to understand that Tom's car, although unscathed, was totally stuck back there. I also beheld the sleety snowy wintery mix and the impending darkness.
So I went inside, put on a pair of purple track pants, my ski hat, my ski gloves, a parka and work boots and I cleared out a wide swath. I hauled a massive bonfire-sized pile of big slimywet branches off the driveway. I clocked myself in the head with a dangling trunk stalk. I tore a page out of Andrew's book and sawz-alled a little bit. Just so Tom could drive out his car.