Showing posts with label tickets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tickets. Show all posts

Thursday, March 5, 2026

Story 625: How to Get Out of Snow Removal: Lesson 2

             “Ugh, another snowstorm?!  Where do they all come from?!”

“Not this again.”

“Sorry, but really, I just can’t take another once-a-decade storm for the eighth go-round this month – how many times do I have to dig out my car and the same plowed-in mess at the end of the driveway before enough is enough, hm?!”

“…Every time?”

“That goes without saying, but I say ‘No more!’  This time, they’re not catching me sleeping during a blizzard as the frozen mess piles up over our heads, uh-uh!”

“So, what, are you gonna go out and shovel every few hours overnight?”

“HA!”

“Yeah, don’t know why I asked – even I wouldn’t do that.”

“No, this time I’ve come up with a genius plan.”

“I bet you have.  All right, let’s hear it.”

“OK, you know the saying: ‘A rolling stone gathers no moss’?”

“I’m familiar.”

“Well, I’ve made the next logical leap in logic and determined that a moving car gathers no snow.”

“So…?”

So, as long as my car is in constant motion during the storm, no snow will be able to pile up on it!”

“….”

“Isn’t that the most brilliant thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Not exactly.  Are you saying that you plan to drive throughout the entire blizzard?”

“You betcha!  I’m amazed no one else has thought of this earlier.”

“That’s because we’ll be in a State of Emergency and no cars are allowed on the road!  Except essential workers, which you most definitely are not!”

“Ah, but there is one, significant, ginormous exception.”

“I’m afraid to ask what it is.”

“The Turnpike’s exempt.”

“…What?!”

“If I’m already on it when the blizzard starts, then they can’t kick me off!”

“…What?!”

“Speed limit’s usually around 55-65 miles per hour; with the snow I might have to drop down to around 35, but either way that should be fast enough to keep anything from actually accumulating on me.  It.  You know: the thing I’d normally have to clean and scrape off.”

“….”

“Brilliant, huh?”

“Ignoring the mind-bogglingessness of it all this for the moment – the Turnpike is only about two hours from start to finish if you stay in-state.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Blizzard’s expected to last around 20 hours.”

“Uh-huh?”

“So you gonna keep going from state-to-state until it’s over?”

“Nah, I’m not sure the other states’ll want me: I’ll just start at the north and then find a cut-through in the south right before the river and then come back up the other way.”’

“Four times?”

“…Yes, that sounds about right, unless I need to go even slower.  Give or take a few times, then.”

“You’re gonna get stuck in the snow before you finish the first round, you know.”

“Not if I drive fast enough!”

“That’s not how – also, you’re probably gonna run out of gas, and no station will be open.”

“No worries; I’ll have extra cans with me to fill up myself!”

“Aha!  You’ll have to stop do it!”

“Please: I can fill up my tank in less than a minute, no problem; the machines take forever, but I have a system”

“I still think this is a bonkers plan.”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first!  I’ll toast a water bottle to you while I’m on the road, practically snow-free, as you continue the endless struggle of shoveling powder and ice to free your trapped vehicle.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.  And how’re you supposed to get back into your snowed-in driveway after all this, anyway?”

“At that point, I can burst through it with the sheer strength of my conviction.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Ooh!  Just to hedge my bets, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare snow plow that I could attach to my front fender so everyone’ll think I’m on the way to a job and leave me alone?... Hello?” 

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

“Hi there.”

“So, I have to know: how did your drive-througout-the-blizzard-so-you-don’t-have-to-dig-out-your-car experiment go?”

“Had a moderate-speed chase with the state troopers until they cut me off and tossed me into the nearest cell until the blizzard ended – didn’t even make it to the second exit.”

“Ah.”

“Apparently, in my case they chose to ignore the memo regarding the Turnpike exemption: though the howling winds I calmly argued my iron-clad position on the matter, but in the end they completely overwhelmed me with their safety protocols and protection of civilians and whatever.”

“Mm.”

“Also gave me about 15 tickets and a summons to the county court where they stopped me and not the county court where I live, so there goes that Tuesday when I have to show up.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Community service also was threatened, but I’ll call their bluff on that when I literally have my day in court.”

“Mm-hm.”

“The only reason they didn’t impound my car was it would’ve been too much of a hassle to get it to the lot in the middle of that mess, so they volleyed another fine my way instead out of spite.”

“Mm-hm.  I’m glad no one got hurt, but I’m also trying not to laugh here.”

“So I gathered.  Well, I’m pleased to be a source of amusement for you in these dreary days of lingering winter, but in the end, against all odds and in spite of everyone’s attempts, I still triumphed.”

“How, exactly?  You were in jail!”

“Yes, that’s the ultimate irony of the situation: in order to get rid of me and get their own vehicles back on the road, they had to clean off my car.”

Thursday, November 8, 2018

Story 262: Winning the High School Raffle


            (Scene: A high school cafeteria repurposed into an amateur auction hall – the round tables are grouped facing a podium, and gift baskets are everywhere)
            PTO President: And now, for the 50/50.  (Holds a bucket out to an unbiased child on loan for the occasion) The winner of this drawing also will receive a free Chess Club T-shirt, yay!  (One audience member claps) Yeah.  And the winner is – (Takes ticket from the unbiased child, who disappears into the crowd) zero… zero… two… five….
            Parent 1: Hurry up!  The tension is killing me!
            PTO President: Oh, are these numbers matching your ticket?
            Parent 1: Heck no, I never do 50/50s, now come on!
            PTO President: Uh… eight-four!
            (Massive groans are heard)
          Winner: (Holding the ticket high into the air) YES!  YES-YES-YES-YES-YESSSSS!!!!  (Runs to the stage, still with the ticket aloft)
            PTO President: Um, hello, can I just check – (Cranes head to check the ticket number)
            Winner: Sure-go-ahead-I-won!  (Tosses ticket to the PTO President, who struggles to snatch it out of the air) Now where’s the T-shirt?
            PTO President: (Grabs the ticket and checks the number) Uhhhh, here you go.  (Reaches into a bag, pulls out the shirt, and hands it to the Winner)
            Winner: Sweeeeet!  (Pulls on the shirt over a sweater)
            PTO President: (Reviewing notes) Oh, and your winnings in the 50/50 are –
            Winner: (Admiring shirt) Don’t care – give it to the school or flush it down the toilet, your choice.
            PTO President: Uh, that’s very… nice of –
            Winner: Got my shirt and I’m out, ahahahaha!!! (Runs out of the cafeteria; after leaving the door, can be heard faintly) Losers.
            Parent 2: Does she even have any kids who go to this school?
            PTO President: (Struggling with notes) Now then, time for our silent auction.  Our first basket is a “Girls’ Night Out” Theme –
            Parent 3: (Stands) Actually, that was updated to “Night Out” because everyone was tired of the spa packages and store coupons, so we just filled the basket with candy and booze.  (Sits)
            PTO President: Ohhh… kaaaayyy…. And the winner for “Night Out” is – (Searches the crowd) Where’s the unbiased child to pull the numbers?
            Parent 4: They left – it was time for beddy-bye.
            PTO President: Fine, I’m pulling the numbers then.  (Pulls out a ticket) And the winner is: zero… zero….
            Parent 5: That’s me! 
            PTO President: That’s everybody.
            Parent 5: Proceed.
            PTO President: Seven… I mean one…
            Parent 6: Aw, man, there goes that!
            PTO President: Nine… two… seven.
            Parent 5: That’s me!
            PTO President: That’s – oh whoops, sorry, that was a one again.
            Parent 5: That’s me!
            PTO President: Seriously?
            Parent 5: Oh yes.  (Walks to the stage carrying a bag full of tickets; hands one to the PTO President) Here you go!
            PTO President: (Checks it) Oh wow, it’s a match.  Basket’s yours, then.  (Hands over the basket)
            Parent 5: (Raises it aloft) Party at my house, fellas!
            Parents: Woot!  Woot!
            PTO President: Please sit down.  (Parent 5 returns to seat) Now, the next basket is donated items signed by our local football celebrity, whose team is in the playoffs this year, isn’t that great?  (Silence) OK then, let me see who won this…. (Checks corresponding bucket) There’re no tickets in here?!
            Parent 3: Yeah, nobody wanted random stuff signed by him: he was a brat when he went here, and he’s an even bigger brat now.
            PTO President: But he donated all this stuff!
            Parent 3: All this used stuff.
            PTO President: Oh.  Ew.  All right, next.  (Uses foot to push the previous basket off the stage) This one has an all-inclusive trip to the North Pole with passes to meet Santa Claus and – this is a gag basket, isn’t it.
            Parent 7: (Laughing hysterically) Man, people fall for that every time!
            PTO President: Wait a minute, is there anything actually real in this one?
            Parent 7: The basket?
            PTO President: Forget it.  (Foot-pushes that basket off the stage) We’re going to move on to the artwork raffle.  (More groans in the audience) C’mon people, these were made by your children!
            Parent 4: Apparently we don’t like our children.
            PTO President: Monsters.  (Pulls out a framed watercolor of a landscape) My goodness, that’s awful – ly full of potential!  Starting bid is $1,000.00
            Parent 6: This ain’t a New York auction house, you know.
            PTO President: Clearly.  All right, $1.00?  (Silence for half a minute, then Parent 8 slowly raises a hand) Sold!  (Parent 8 slowly comes to the stage to take the painting)  Is this is your kid’s?
            Parent 8: Yes, yes: you win, world, I will no longer force my child to be a brilliantly starving artist, are you happy?!
            PTO President: I think the world and your child are, yes.  Now let’s go back to the baskets –
            Parent 3: Wait a minute, what about the art?
            PTO President: The rest won’t move, and we’ve got another 25 baskets to get through in less than an hour.
            Parent 4: But what about the sculpture of the battling dragons sitting right there?  Now that I may actually bid money on.
            PTO President: Really?
            Parent 4: …No, never mind; I’m too cheap.
            Parent 5: Can I just take all the baskets home?  The odds of you picking my tickets for each are ridiculously high.
            PTO President: No you cannot, and we are going to be here all night if you people don’t stop interrupting the proceedings!
            Parent 7: Can we all just write a check donating money to the school or something and skip the rest?
            PTO President: No!  This is supposed to be fun and team-building and you get cool stuff!  Now I am going to keep calling tickets for baskets of random knick-knacks and you will all stay here until the end to listen and complain that you never win anything, all right?!
            Parent 8: If it makes you happy.
            PTO President: It doesn’t!  I’m not even supposed to be PTO President this year but no one else wanted to do it!  This is strictly volunteer and I resent every minute of it!
            Parent 8: Even if it’s for your kid?
            PTO President: My kid graduated last year!  Why won’t you people let me goooooo????? (Sits on the stage to cradle a basket and weep)
            Parent 4: (To Parent 6) Still the best PTO President we’ve had in ages.