Weather in Iowa this time of year can take its toll on people. For instance, with me it slows down my entire body. The cold weather makes me move slower, and react slower. For some people it makes them completely math retarded and for others it can make them violently helpful. I know what you’re thinking right now, “Violently helpful? That doesn’t make any sense, whatever could you mean? Does it mean beating up a bum then pissing him in the dead of winter therefore making him warmer so he doesn’t freeze to death?” No, it doesn’t, and you are a sick fucker for thinking that.

This is what happens when these three completely different winter personality types meet…

Today I was feeling beverage hungry so I decided to run down to this little convenience store called “Pop ‘n Go” to buy a thirst quencher of some sort. Today’s pick was original green tea from the Snapple Corporation, I find it delicious and nutritious. The store itself is a tad on the sketchy side. It’s in a not so great part of town, really dirty and is usually filled with all the wrong kind of people. But me being the bad ass dare devil that I am likes to flirt with danger and live a little on the wild side*.

So I go through the motions. Pick up my beverage, place it on the counter and hand the cashier my not so hard earned money. My total comes to a little over two dollars. I hand the cashier a ten dollar bill. She hands me back two dollars and some change. Now I’m no math wizard but I am quick enough on my feet to finally process that she forgot to give me back a five. But before I am able to speak and express how much I just got screwed this guy waiting in line pokes his head over my shoulder and says “You forgot to give him a five.” Which was fine, I had no problem with him not minding his own business because often times I don’t check to see if I get correct change. But then it got a little weird. Then he said “If you were going to charge him seven dollars and change for just that then we’re going to have to beat the shit out of you.” Which made me do the usual chuckle turned serious turned I need to get the fuck out of here face.

The cashier in a mixture of being an idiot and startled just stares blankly at us, not knowing what to do. That’s when the guy behind me leans over again and says “You gave him the wrong change, give him the correct change right fucking now.” Which made me stare out the smudged and dirty glass door, to pained to make eye contact. The cashier finally snaps out of her two minute coma and gives me the extra five.

Now here is how self conscious I am. While walking out the door and back to my car all I keep thinking is “Wow, I wonder if that guy thought I was going to be a pussy and not call her out on giving me the wrong change since I didn’t speak up from the beginning.” And even worse “I wonder if the idiot cashier lady thought the same thing as the guy, and are now reconciling their differences and laughing over what a pussy they thought I was.” I was going to turn back, walk in and explain to them that I wasn’t really paying all that much attention and I was about to speak up before my violently aggressive bodyguard-esque friend beat me to the punch. But then I figured that would definitely start some making fun of me talk. So I left with my “pussy” image (not in a good way) but still trying to hold my head high. Though, it was really hard to hold my head high when the rest of my body was flailing along with defeat.

So now that I sit in my apartment, humbled, I figure that it doesn’t really matter how people view me. At the end of the day, when it’s all said and done it only really matters what I think of me. Because if I take this to heart I’ll just end up developing some kind of weird insecure complex and start planning my revenge to right other peoples mental wrongs about me. And if that happened it would only be a matter of time before I see the idiot cashier, freshly fired and newly homeless in an alley somewhere trying to keep warm. Then my brain would shoot into violent nam-like flashbacks of that day before beating the shit out of her… Then feeling bad and pissing on her so she can stay warm.

* - It’s true, ladies…

I officially have a love/hate relationship with old man winter (don’t judge me). When I was younger our relationship was so strong, I thought it was unbreakable and that it would last forever. As I get older I’m starting to doubt what attracted me to winter in the first place. In the beginning, winter was more fun than any of the other seasons; there was rarely a dull moment with winter. Snow forts, snowball fights, and unsuspectingly pushing people into the snow. It was a blast! My favorite season!

Now the older ‘me’ is starting to take over. Winter just doesn’t do it for me any more. It’s too much to keep up with. Winter is still the same, fun, unpredictable, loveable season, but I’m just growing old of its games. I’ve gotten more mature, and I just don’t have time to spend on winter anymore, it’s really just becoming a big hassle.

The thing that’s really so heartbreaking about the whole ordeal is that winter keeps trying to win me back. It’s fighting for my attention, and I respect that, but I can’t give in. For example, I’m walking down the icy sidewalk, coming to work this morning, and I slip and almost fall into the freshly fallen snow. Winter is basically saying “Come on, dive back in, remember how you would just run and jump right into my snow? It was so much fun, just give me another chance!”

“No winter, I’m older now. That ‘playing in snow’ is a young persons game, I have to go to work so I can pay the bills, which thanks to you get jacked up in the winter because of how cold you are. You bitch!” I cried, my tears almost frozen.

“How dare you call me a bitch!?!? I’ll show you how cold and bitter I can actually be!” Winter now yelling at me, visibly frustrated.

“Wait, I’m sorry winter, I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I have to go back to work after a four-day weekend, and I got no sleep, and all you keep trying to do is seduce me. It’s starting to get annoying.” I said, now, trying to soothe winter. I never meant to take it as far as I did.

“Well I’m sorry, but I just can’t stop thinking about how good the old days were. We used to be so frisky, there was a spark and you can’t deny that. So what do you say? Do you want to have a little ‘fun’, just one last time?” Winter says seducing-ly, with a longing in it’s eyes.

Well, long story short, winter and I made up, and then some, but I was late for work (yet again) because I had to go back home to change out of my wet pants.