December 7, 2012 by Lisa Lou
So. This morning I woke to a world drizzling with ice. Freezing rain. My least favorite of the elements. I don’t know about you, but I simply cannot drive in any form of precipitation. And the freezing kind? Not a chance. Were I to make a list of all the vehicles I have owned over the course of my life and then listed how they met their untimely demise, you probably wouldn’t believe me. Unless you know me. Then you’d believe me and probably be surprised that there aren’t more on the list.
In the summer, when it’s sunny and not rainy, I drive like a 16-year-old boy. Eighty miles an hour every where I go. I used to say that a speeding ticket was like belonging to a club where you pay $200 to drive as fast as you want where ever you go. Sooner or later you’ll get caught, but hey if it’s only once a year, it’s just like paying dues. Well, that was until the whole they took my driver’s license thing. Now I try to be a little more careful and slow. Not that I have any control over it. My foot is sincerely made of lead. I’ll be going 70 before I even realize it anyway, so now I just try to be extra careful in all those 35 mile per hour places that I like to call big-fat-pain-in-my-ass-zones.
The Biff lives in one of these zones and is constantly bitching about the way people fly by her house. I can understand. When I lived in town I was a raging bitch about people speeding past my house. Quite the hypocrisy given my penchant for pedal pushing, I know. Hey, nobody’s perfect. Anyway, a few months ago some jackass didn’t even pretend to slow down as he attempted to pass her house. I say attempted because it just so happened that the Biff and her family were backing out of their driveway at the time. Must be the Fates that usually shine on me were shining on her that day because the guy banked/bounced off the truck that Biff and her family were in and smashed right into her Durango that was parked in the yard. Both of her vehicles smashed in one small second. I haven’t driven over the speed limit past her house since.
Anyway, I used to be able to drive in the rain. Then I bought my Xterra. In my own defense, I told the hub that there was something wrong with it long before the incident I’m about to tell you about. Well not LONG before, but before anyway.The back end would fly out all the time if the road was even a little bit wet.
So we were headed to Virginia, my kids and I. Brad was working down there and instead of him having to drive home every weekend after working a gazillion hours, the kids and I would drive down to see him. Every. Single. Weekend. (Such is the life of a pipeliner’s wife. You get used to it, and actually I quite enjoy it.) Well, one weekend very shortly after getting my new car, we reached Maryland just in time for monsoon season.
Because I’m such a shitty driver, I pulled over like 4 or 5 times. I called Brad a hundred and fifteen times and honestly almost got a hotel room for the night. Hindsight is always 20/20 and knowing what I know now, that $80-$90 hotel room would have saved a shit ton of time and a boat ton of money. Against my better judgement, we continued on our journey. Til the time we hit the Virginia line, the rain started to let up. Less rain, more speed, right? I mean I had ground to cover.
Unfortunately for me, the roads were ridiculously wet, very river-like, in fact. Long story short, I hydroplaned. The side of my vehicle met the butt end of a guard rail at about 70 miles per hour. $10,000 damage in the blink of an eye. Oh, did I mention that it was the day before I made the first payment? Or that it took the shitty body shop FOUR months to fix it?
That whole long story is just one of many. And that was in the summer. Winter? Forget it. I once hit a barn broadside. No, not the broadside of a barn. I hit the barn with the broadside of my Ford Explorer. On one freezing cold blustery evening I smashed up Brad’s Jeep in the middle of a national forest. All alone. No cell service. At dark. I walked for miles and miles before finally reaching a trashy old trailer that was about as inviting as the mansion from “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre”. Looks can be deceiving (Thank God) and the folks inside were quite accommodating.
None of this is even accounting for all the guard rails, telephone poles, curbs, construction cones and barrels, and all the other little whatnots I’ve hit over the years. Cars hate me. They really do.If I don’t wreck ‘em, I ruin ‘em. I blew up the motor in one of my Jeeps….twice. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this, but if this is karma of the motorized variety, it must have been quite bad.
Now you can understand why I was less than thrilled to see sheets of ice pouring from the sky this morning. To make matters much, much worse, my car is still broken and I’ll be driving Brad’s truck for the foreseeable future. Um, he will murder me if I wreck his truck. Like seriously MURDER me. Honestly, I would have no problem staying in my house for the entire winter. I have absolutely no where that I absolutely must go. I have to get groceries, but the Biff will come get me. She doesn’t want me to die in an ice induced accident any more than I want me to die in one. Other than that, I’d be fine. Unfortunately, the kids must go to school and I’m way too nice to make them walk the mile and half to the bus stop each morning and afternoon.
On the bright side, spring is a mere 101 days, 22 hours and 27 minutes away.