Zamboni Tuesday

Worked an extra shift on the Zamboni tonight. And the law of averages being what it is, I broke the Zamboni tonight. Using only my right arm.

This is a Zamboni:



I have a penchant for breaking big truck-like things.


When I was 17, I totaled a 1980 Ford Econoline Ambulance. With working siren. It was technically my first car. Why was this my first car? They were out of fire trucks.

Long story short, my mother and I were moving and we wanted to go quickly and nothing says quickly like a 1980 Ford Econoline Ambulance.

Before I totaled it, I did manage to have an accident where the ambulance was fine but I completely ruined a brand new Lincoln Continental. As I was giving another kid who worked with me a ride home from work.

Backed right into it and just crushed the grill. The kid I was giving the ride to decided to walk. I was honestly surprised. We were fine, it was the other guy's car that got destroyed.


Then, while driving for the post office I got into one accident that the post office actually knows about. No one was injured. I blamed the bend in the street. Another one I got in, I was slowly backing the postal truck up, noting the large tree stump behind me, when a loud abrasive voice in my head suddenly shouted, "go mutha fucka, go!" and while I disagreed strongly with that sentiment, my right foot thought that this was a great idea. I exploded a huge chunk of stump. Then I sped out of the area in a shower of wood chips and furtiveness while The Voice screamed "YAAAAAAHHHHH. take that, you fuckin' tree stump!"
That one stayed between me, the truck, and that poor stump.


With the Zamboni, I have stalled, frozen, insulted, defiled and otherwise made it difficult for my boss to trust me alone with the thing, but I never actually broke it before.


There is a sort of plunger that you push down on when the ice is building up and this plunger has a device on the end that chops up the ice and gets it moving again. I was wailing away on the thing, far harder and more frequently than necessary probalby, when it just . . .gave.

I could see that there was one nut that held it together, and I had the nut, but I couldn't figure out how to get in there to put the nut back. I had to call the company mechanic. It turned out to be a fairly simple process, which he made sure I understood by explaining it to me in a tone one could only describe as eat me you condescending douche-bag Zamboni mechanic. Tone.

S'alright. Wait til they come in in the morning and see that I've Zamboni'd the bleachers. Wonder what I'll get to drive next. Maybe a Mack truck on the Pacific Coast Highway. How do I keep getting these jobs?




Homemaker Man