Night Work in Kansas City, MO
I had a visitor late last night. In the pre-Igloo era unannounced visitors at any time to any of the homes I’ve lived in here in Kansas City, Missouri, are an event.
People who know you, who even claim to be your friend when there’s somethihng in it for them, they didn’t even visit at all, let alone at orthodox times.
Orthodox times? Yes there are social watersheds in the metro area. For some people in KC, MO it means no phone calls after 9:00pm. For others it means none after 8pm. And over on the Kansas side, in Johnson County the same variations exist - only everything there is done an hour earlier because JoCo folk are in an even bigger hurry to die.
In whatever currency you happen to spend, one o’clock in the morning is rather late for an impromptu housecall. Before last night I’d had three in the last 8 years. Let me perpetuate stereotypes by telling you that all three of those visits were by Irish people. And yes, all the visitors had imbibed excessively a liquid drug that it’s only okay to imbibe excessively between the hours of 5 and 7 pm.
If 3 visits in 8 years is a tendency, then Irish drunks have a tendency to visit me at one in the morning. And I being a stereotype myself, make them a pot of tea. Oh okay, I don’t - I just reluctantly share my current pot of tea with them.
So last night having somebody knock on my door at 1 a.m. was a surprise.
-I know it’s late, but I’ve just come home and I’m trying to make a bit of money.
He had a snow shovel in one hand and a smaller implement for dismembering people in his other hand.
Isn’t that fantastic? I know it’s late? If he knocked on somebody’s door at one in the morning in Johnson County he’d now be in jail.
Back when I used to drive, my car broke down in Johnson County once - after 9pm. I knocked on the door of the house nearest to let them know that the abandoned car outside their door would be moved as soon as I could walk home and come back with help. That they need not call the police. They peeped through the blinds and decided they need not open the door.
So last night I wanted to hire my unexpected late salesman. But all I had was eleven cents and a five pound note - sterling - and he’d never believe how hard it is to convert a major foreign currency into US dollars.
And then I wondered if I pay him to clear the snow outside my house, what will I then do with this cleared area? A car driver would walk to and from their car, but I’m not a car driver.
A pedestrian - which I often am - would walk, unencumbered by snow, to the road where there is no footpath, but then what? The Trolley Track Trail is the last place in the city to thaw, except for Brookside of course where I hear they have a lot of hairdryers. And in the few places where there are actual public footpaths alongside the road, not alone are they not cleared, but if the road is cleared it is done so by dumping on the footpath. So the only benefit I could see in having my snow cleared, would be to make it nice for people to come and visit me.
With visions of a procession of Kansas City’s Irish population staggering drunkenly up my cleared driveway in the middle of the night to consume the last of my Barry’s Tea, I told my visitor I couldn’t pay him, but if he’d just hang on a second I’d go get my dustpan and join him.
See Also:
• A Beehive Hut of Ice
• Going Out The In-Door
• A Kansas City Phone Call To An Irish Mother
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