No, it’s not that kind of post. But something did happen last night: I nearly wrecked my fucking car.
I was working a 9-7 the other day. Around the 6 o’clock mark, patients started saying something about snowfall outside. “Ugh,” I thought. By the time 7 rolled around, there was a healthy amount of snow falling, it was 24 outside and the ground was slippery as all fuck. And my little rear wheel drive convertible sports car is on summer tires. Tires which have next to no tread blocks to speak of with which to grab traction. Driving in these conditions was hilarious. I could spin the tires pressing the throttle just a 1/4 of the way. Imagine piloting a drunk cow. That’s what this is like. The car wants to slide to one side constantly while you’re trying to keep it straight.
I slowly made my way onto the interstate going about 30. This is seriously fucking terrifying. After a few minutes, I shifted into 5th and crept up to about 40. Suddenly, snap oversteer. The car goes into a MASSIVE slide. On the Goddamn freeway. I am sliding perpendicular to the road at 40mph. I remember yelling, “SHIIIIIIIIIT!” as I tried in vain to countersteer. This wasn’t going to end well.
The car is heading toward a ditch on the side of the road. I touch snow which sends the car into a drift in the opposite direction. I nearly take down a metal post as the car slides into the ditch where I gracefully come to a stop in some grass. GOD FUCKING DAMN IT.
The car is fine and so am I. I call 911. I report my situation. There are accidents everywhere tonight because the highway is pretty much a fucking ice rink right now. A cop comes 10 minutes later. A tow truck comes 30 minutes later. While I’m waiting, locals pull over to see if I’m alright. I explain to them that I’m fine and I’m just waiting for a tow truck.
Finally the tow truck arrives. The guy pulls me out by the wheel of my car and gets me back onto the road. And apparently that’s it. No tow anywhere, just makes me sign a paper and bills me $125. So now I still have to make it all the way home, which is another 2 exits away.
I slowly exhale and set off. I’m not fucking around anymore. I put the car in 2nd and drive 10mph with my blinkers on the entire way. Assholes are passing me. I don’t care. There are no more ditches on this part of the highway; it’s all guardrails. I am not killing my car tonight.
By the grace of God I make it to my exit after what seems like an eternity. Now I have to make it about another mile. As I slowly creep along the local roads I remember about the hill before my intersection. “Oh fuck.” The hill comes into view as I make my way up. I nearly crest it when the wheels start spinning. “Uh oh.” I’m not gonna make it. I don’t have enough traction. I’m gonna roll back if I keep this up. So I stop. Dead in the middle of the road. Cars are passing. One guy pulls over and asks if I’m alright. I explain my situation and he gets out to help. I basically need a push at this point. A woman stops moments later and gets out to help. And then another guy. The three of them help push me up this ice laden hill as I slowly slip the clutch in 3rd gear. I can feel the wheels judder as they try to grip the road. I gradually make it to the top and yell “THANK YOU!”, not daring to stop because I might not get going again. I delicately make a left hand turn at my intersection as slowly as I can, feeding as little power to the rear wheels as possible. I turn into my apartment complex and slowly make my way to the parking lot. I get the car in a spot and just shout for a few seconds. This was the most anxiety ridden drive of my life. It took me 2 hours to get home that night. I could have wrecked my car on more than one occasion. And now I know what it’s like to drive summer tires on ice. It is fucking terrifying.
Existentialists R Us 
Ah, the love of driving in winter. Glad things worked out and that there are good people in the world to help out when they can.
On the way home from a skiing trip, my ex and I hit incredibly nice weather in the New England states, but shit got worse on I-90 from Albany to Syracuse. This was early March, so the wrath from February storms were still unpredictable. There was this tiny little sports car in front of us, and the owner said that he had picked up the car that day. Unfortunately, to put the fear of winter driving and passing any and all semis, the little sports car did not withstand the poor conditions and the air flow between the truck while passing and got sucked under.
No one was hurt, but that cannot be said for the roadster.
Keep up the dreat writing, and I hope your winter driving gets smoother.
Oooooh my God. That must have been a heart attack packed 2 hours. You poor thing! I’m thinking about throwing some cinderblocks in my trunk for the winter. My wittle car isn’t going to do too well.