Snow is pretty. But its red-headed stepchild — slush — is gross and awful and makes you fall down, and it happens to be all over the sidewalks right now. We at Runnin’ Scared have compiled some thoughts on slush to get you through these slippery days.
I’ll start with my most recent and best Slush Experience:
I was walking down the street near my apartment, or more aptly, trudging slowly to avoid falling in the gross slush. A man was shoveling snow off his stoop and as I passed by, he stopped what he was doing, ran down his steps, and said “You’re so beautiful. Whoever he is, he’s a lucky man. Let me clear a path for you.” And the dude cleared a path for me! All the while repeating the “he’s a lucky man” thing, which is funny because said lucky man does not exist. Sometimes people are nice. Sometimes people are creepy. Sometimes people are nice and creepy, like this guy.
From Intern Myles, a love story about boots:
During the first really bad snowstorm of this winter (the one where Cory Booker was awesome) I wore these really crappy old Timberlands. They didn’t really do me much good and left me feeling pretty annoyed by my wet feet. So the next week while shopping at No Relation Vintage (on First Avenue between 12th and 13th) I saw these babies and had to pick them up. For just $20, I had my fears of cold toes and puddles completely vanquished.
I love seeing the faces of people trying “to read” the puddles and figure out where to step as I steamroll through every lake, river, and pond on the streetcorners around this city. I’ve heard gasps from onlookers as I trudge through the waters without any hesitation. They say, “the clothes make the man” and never have I seen this to be more true than the effect these boots have had on me.
Intern Averie has some advice, if you don’t want a beat down:
Here are some things I’ve experienced lately/ rules I think everyone in their right mind should follow:
-Some puddles require a leap of faith, and sometimes, you still fail. I’ve now ruined multiple pairs of socks and have slush dirt stains on my favorite pair of jeans.
-Now is not the time to flirtatiously wink at people. Yesterday a dude strolled passed me, winked, then fell on his ass because he wasn’t paying attention to the ice on the sidewalk. Let’s just say his ego was a bit bruised after that. And yes, I laughed.
-Sometimes there’s only one pathway through the slush. If you rush past me while I’m taking that path, thereby making me fall directly INTO the slush, you are an asshole and deserve a beat down.
And our newest intern, Intern Nick (welcome Nick!) hits us with some slush analysis:
In my experience, there are three steps towards addressing a slush lake at a
1. The Scan- Find any acceptable routes around the slush, perhaps following
an intrepid pedestrian who has taken a chance on a wet piece of asphalt and
found that it is safe.
2. The Mountaineer- When the only way is up. Hike a mound of well-packed
snow and hope that it holds.
3. The Tip-Toe- This is the last resort. When all other options are
exhausted, do your best Baryshnikov impersonation and flutter on point
through the grimy slush. This is the last resort as it never works, no
matter how graceful you think you are being. I can attest, as I am peeling
off soaking wet socks as I write this.
We are a group of serious journalists who think deeply about the issues that affect you most.
What about you? Do you deal with the slush scourge cheerfully, like this lady?
Or glumly, like this lady?
Tweet me your best slush experiences/advice/fantasies/whatever, please. Only if they’re funny.
(Thanks to Robert Sietsema for the pics!)