My plow guy lives up the street. Over a cup of coffee in his kitchen, he talked about his work. It’s tough on family life. “The hardest are the 24-hour storms, when you’re up all night, and then your kid wants to play as soon as you get home.”
On the other hand, he says, nature’s beauty is on show. “I see the glowing green eyes of enormous owls. The first time I saw a bobcat was when I was plowing snow.”
My plow guy describes his clients as “the good, the bad, and the ugly.” The good (95 percent) pay on time and park their cars out of his way on snowy nights. One brings him hot coffee and muffins on the job.
The bad are slow to pay and quick to complain: “Why do you always come at 2:00 in the morning? Do you have to use those blinking lights?”
The ugly have steep, twisty driveways, “and once you start sliding back- ward, you’re stuck—any plow guy who says he never gets stuck is a liar.”
Plow guys help each other out whenever possible—it’s the Code of the Plow—but there are limits. After pulling Plow Guy out a few times, one of his competitors handed him a set of chains and said, “Good luck.”
This, too, is the Code of the Plow.