I want to line up all owners of over-sized, pick-up trucks that drive like maniacs on unplowed streets and slap each of their faces. Once I get down the line, I want to stand there like a little dictator and scream, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”
My commute last night was what nightmares are made of. My normal commute is 50 minutes, while this one took 2 fucking hours.
Leg 1- Getting on the highway
At 5:15, I pull out praying to the baby Jesus I don’t hit my boss’s car. It’s a beautiful white convertible that was probably just 1 foot away from my car. I progress onto the side roads, about to turn when a dumb ass uses a one way only turn lane and almost hits me. Here is my beautiful drawing (to the left) of what happened.
Leg 2: On the Outer Belt
Since ODOT (Ohio Department of Transportation) enjoys deconstructing roads then leaving them for years unfinished, I drove in a 3-lane highway, next to concrete barriers. Driving next to concrete barriers in perfect conditions is anxiety inducing enough, let alone with unplowed roads. You couldn’t see the dotted lines, and every man for themselves. Normally, this is when an ass hole driver enters the picture and begins to weave in and out of cars. 80% of the time the windows are tinted. 60% of the time, there is an obnoxious spoiler and 5% of the time, they have party plates.
Leg 3: I Will Die or Crash, I’m Certain
By now my clock read 6 PM and I had traveled a lofty 10 miles. I was on Interstate 70 in downtown Columbus, traveling at about 25 mph when I hear honks. I turn to my left to see an older black man with his window down, yelling at me. I rolled my window down and had a surge of snow and sleet blow on to my face.
“Your (insert jumbled words)!” He yelled over.
“What?” I screamed.
“Your (insert jumbled words)!” He yelled again.
“What?” I screamed, more annoyed than ever. I’m trying not to wreck here and he wants to have a discussion.
“Your lights (insert jumbled words).”
“Ok, thank you!” I said, rolling up my windows, still confused. Because I think I heard him say lights, I checked my lights and sure enough, they weren’t on. Suddenly my annoyance turned to gratitude.
20 minutes later, I’m on a bridge of the highway that tilts slightly to the right. I began to feel the car slide.
“Oh God, no, no, no, no!” I yell as I turn the wheel left while I’m still careening to the right. If I didn’t slam into the wall, I would be hit from behind as the cars behind me would not be able to stop. Within inches of the wall, I stop. By the grace of God, the cars behind me stop too. I’m shaking horribly now. I try to get over to the right but again, I begin to slip again then stop. I’m shaking as I am typing this because it was so scary. By now, I’m in the lane to exit to a road and every so gingerly I get off. There is a McDonald’s in view and I will just stop there, eat and figure out my next move.
But the lane I was in didn’t turn left to McDonald’s. It only turned right and took us on a long, winding road with 0 places to stop. My foot is shaking violently by now and I shouldn’t be driving. I see a grocery store and contemplated just parking there but what would my game plan be? Spend the night there? I thought about asking my husband to come get me but that would take at least an hour and jeopardize his safety. I pushed East and ended up going through a college campus.
Leg 4: Just Because You Go To College, Doesn’t Make You Street Smart
As I drive down the main drag of the campus, I am met with idiots, walking in the road or very close to the road. Some immediately cross the road when the light turns red, confident I could come to a complete stop. Exiting a CVS was a mom and a child, just feet from the road. I had visions of hitting them then being on Intervention in 10 years because I couldn’t deal with the pain of what I had done.
I took route 40 (this was the road people traveled on cross country before interstate 70 was built) all the way home and didn’t go over 25 mph once. The interstate wasn’t cleared and it would hurt a lot less being hit by a small car as opposed to a 50′ semi. My fingers ached from the steel-like grip I had on the steering wheel.
Leg 5: Wine
2 hours later, at 7:15, I arrive home. I was hungry, thirsty and had to piss. I put a pot of water on the stove, grabbed a wine glass and poured.
“Yeah, this will be a wine with dinner night, tonight,” I said to my husband.
He chuckled, “I can totally see why.”