Tag Archives: Driving

Flashing before my eyes

I assume that reading this title you are thinking that I’m going to write about someone dropping their pants in front of me. This is not the case.

This  story is literally about a moment in my life when my life flashed before my eyes.

I was driving along highway 401, on my way to pick up my friend Melissa so that we could head up for a nice winter weekend in Muskoka. When I got to the exit for the 407 (the fast toll highway), I noticed that there was a car in the ditch and there was a tow truck driver working on getting the car out.

So because it was snowing a bit, and their was snow on the highway, I decided it would be a good idea to switch lanes to give them room. BAD IDEA!!!

My car spun out. What’s that all about? I was trying to be a cautious driver.

It did about a 900°. When It finally stopped spinning, I looked up and their was a transport truck heading straight for me.

As I faced the semi heading straight at me, my entire life flashed before my eyes – my friends, my family, my stupid ex-boyfriends, my cat, the cottage, summer…the list went on and on.

Luckily, the truck ended up missing my car by about 2 feet. IT WAS INSANE.

In what felt like an hour (probably about 30s) the tow truck driver who was helping the other guy walked over to my car, opened my door and said:

“You just made me S*$% my pants”

I responded:

“I think I just S*$% my own pants”

Neither of us actually had an accident, but if we did, I wouldn’t have judged either of us.

Neither should you – Judgy McJudgerson!

Hitchhiking – the lesser of two evils

Up until July of 2009 I gladly drove around all of Ontario in my 1990 Topaz.

For the most part, Maxie was good to me. She drove me to the cottage, the city, to my parents; she took me on road trips.

Pretty much she was the best ugly car a girl could ask for.

Although she was the best ugly car, it doesn’t mean she didn’t have her problems. She had freckles (paint chips on the front bumper).  In the heat of the summer the rear-view mirror just fell off. And often, Maxie would have problems with her muffler so when driving around town I sounded like I was a NASCAR racer.

I  loathe NASCAR –  this was not ideal for me.

Anyway, there was this one time when I was driving back from Windsor to Guelph on a Monday morning – I needed to make it back to guelph for my 11:00 class. I was driving along the highway when I looked at my rear-view mirror and saw that my car was smoking. Yikes.

I thought the best plan would be for me to pull off the highway and go to someone’s house and ask them to call my parents for me.

When reading this, please note that although this was 2003, I still did not have a cell phone. I like to take my time to ease into ‘popular trends’.

Anyway, I pulled off the highway and went up to this house that was pretty much the only house on this particular country road. As I walked up to the house, I noticed that the backyard was gated (who gates in the country), then I saw the windows and they had bars on them (what’s that all about?). Why would anyone in the country need bars on their house? My experience with country homes is that they rarely even have locks on the doors, let alone use the locks. JS-ing.

That said, I ran back to my car and waited for a car to drive by. After the third car to drive right by my little young self, this man in his mid 50’s pulled over.

Here’s pretty much how it went down:

Me: Hi, my car broke down and I’m stranded here. Do you have a cell phone I can make a call with?

Man: No, I’m sorry. I can drive you into the next town so you can make a call from there.

Me: (Looking back at the scary house and then sizing up the man) Yes, please, that would be very kind of you.

So, after waving my two options, I decided to get into the car with a man that could have been a serial killer, rather than try to knock at the door of the house. I’ve seen way to many versions of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre to go up to a house with bars on the window.

What would you do?

My vote: Go with the lesser of the two evils; go with the guy who looks like he’d be your dad’s friend. He’s better than the guy with the mask and axe out back.

FYI – Gloria Estefan is not a valid excuse for speeding

When I was in third year university I was in a long distance relationship with a fella from my hometown. Because of how infatuated I was, I went home pretty much every weekend.

By nature, I’m a pretty competitive person. Suffice it to say…I love winning. Even winning against myself. So, at this point in my life I had a bit of a lead foot. I liked to see if I could shave time off my drive every week. However, I wasn’t too careless – except, when listening to music.

I was driving along the 401 when a Gloria Estefan song came on.

I’m not sure if you’re like me, but when I listen to music, I often find myself driving faster or slower depending on the beat.  And with Gloria…you almost always have a good beat.

Back to the story:

I was driving near Woodstock, singing along and dancing to Gloria, when I see lights in my rear view mirror. I look at my speedometer and I was going 143 (holy crap bag).

The officer pulled me over, came up to my window, told me how fast I was going and asked me why I was speeding.

I responded, “I was listening to Gloria Estefan and I just got carried away” – I really said that. On top of that, I burst into tears as I said it. What’s that all about? I couldn’t have come up with a better response? Do I really need to be inappropriately honest at all times? And, what’s with the tears? How stereotypical could I have been?

The officer, took my license to his car, did whatever they do in there and came back to me. Luckily, he said that he had to give me a ticket, but he was going to knock it down to 128. He said that I needed to lose the points to learn the lesson.

Lesson learned: NO DRIVING TO GLORIA…she’s just to damn exciting.