Tuesday, April 16, 2013

What Your Sidewalk Shoveling Technique Says About Your Personality

Photo: Spenser Tang-Smith from The RV Proj

Sidewalk And Half The Yard: This is the first time you've seen snow. You grew up in San Diego, and went to school in Hawai'i. You moved to CO/UT/WY for the adventure. You've seen more than your share of Westerns.

Single Shoveled Line: Single parent. You and your kids all had toaster waffles for breakfast. Store brand too, so your kids will learn 'values'. 

Slanted Shovel Marks: I can't figure out what that means, because I can't figure out how one would make this pattern so precise in such a difficult medium. 

Hasn't Been Touched: It's Tuesday morning and you're stoned. Really stoned. Like haven't even looked out the window yet today. You have some chance of upgrading to one of the other techniques sometime later this afternoon. Probably after snacks.

Path From The Front Door To The Car: You're probably really busy. Way too busy to deal with things like shoveling all of the snow. Chances are good you did it wearing house slippers before changing into shoes that are worth more than my last paycheck. Fuck you, seriously, fuck you.

Snow Blower That Ends At Some Arbitrary Property Line: You either own your own landscaping company, or you are very conservative. You wore your best lined Carhart pants for this. You never come to any of the neighborhood picnics because the 20 something parents are always scowling at your NRA long sleeves. 

Single Set Of Boot Prints: You are probably depressed from the way your heels drag. The snow weighs heavy on your mind. It's tax season. Your ex-girlfriend is getting married. You haven't been to the doctor in years. 

Patterned, Perhaps Artistically: You have the ability to think for yourself. You probably do not pay much heed to the local HOA. Or maybe you have precocious toddlers who are into 'housework'. 

Neurotically Cleared: You are my father. Your kids will feel slightly resentful towards you every time it snows for many years. 

1 comment:

  1. Amendment at the behest of Kyle O'Meara:

    "Less than perfect square around my passenger slider door this morning before the clock struck seven": You live in your car. Chances are high you haven't changed out of your Sanuks yet today. You have a small dog, who occasionally gets cold feet. She probably sleeps in your spare down jacket Sidewalks may not be your main priority, but you can clear boulders really well.