It snowed yesterday in Denver. The front of my car is covered in icicles. I got home from work tonight and parked outside. When I opened the garage door to go into the apartment, I noticed a trash bag that needed to go to the dumpster. I put the mail and my backpack on a shelf and grabbed the trash.
On the way to the trash, I saw one of my neighbors whom I’ve spoken to before. She recognized me and said hello.
“You’re from Nevada, right?”
“How are you liking the Winter?”
“I’m loving it actually.”
As I said that I hit a patch of ice and fell straight to the ground. Nothing snapped or popped or hit too hard. Just some bad footing.
My neighbor asked, “Are you OK?”
“Yep I’m fine. Nothing hurt but my pride.”
She didn’t miss a beat: “So how do you like the Winter now?”
“Ha! I still like it.”
She said, “I fall all the time. I don’t even bother wearing Winter shoes.”
“I’m a bit disappointed in these boots, to be honest. They have zero ice traction, obviously.”
And with that, I trod the rest of the way to the dumpster to deposit my bag. I also took a slightly different route back, where the driveway had been exposed to sun and there was no ice.
I might be goofy, but I’m not stupid. And I still like the Winter.