My car was practically washed away into a gully on Monday (not really, but it sounds good). What's your worst driving story?

-- Kymm (hedgehog@hedgehog.net), September 07, 2000

Answers

One night several years ago, I had dinner at a friend's house and we sat around drinking a jug of wine and I fell asleep on the floor. I woke up in the wee hours, and, it being a work night and all, left for home. I was still a few miles away and driving near the embassy row area of Washington D.C. when my car decided, for no discernible reason, to stall. Now, I realize that that's not usually such a big deal and certainly not worth writing in to Kymm about. But it just so happens that that particular car (which is long gone thanks be) had this quirk of not being able to start if the engine was too hot. So, here I am at 2 a.m. in the middle of the street with a car that's not going to start for at least an hour. You may think that's the whole story but it'snot.

I get out and push my car off the road (backwards) into a side road that ends up being a long, dark, snaky road lined with embassies and mansions etc. After a wild little ride, I and my car come to rest at the end of someone's driveway. It's so dark I can see nothing - I remember I could hear a burbling brook nearby. After a half hour or so, a police car comes by and I jump out flag it down and ask for a jump (the only way to get the car going without waiting for it to cool off). Amazingly, they did what I asked without even putting me in protective custody or anything. After all, here I am sitting in someone's driveway, probably an ambassador or something, in the middle of the night, reeking of cheap wine. They didn't even ask if they could look in my car! They were probably so surprised to see me there that they couldn't think straight. They probably thought about it later and went, "what the hey??" So I got the jump, my car started, and I took off for home.

So now you probably think that's the end of the story but noo-ooo. I get home and find a space in front of my apartment building and go to parallel park. By this time I am really tired, it being about 3:30 or so in the a.m. So, I'm parking and the next thing I know, my car won't move anymore. Like, what the friggin hell is going on? I investigate - remember it's still dark as a cave - and eventually figure out that my front bumper is NEATLY WRAPPED AROUND THE TRAILER HITCH OF THE GUY IN FRONT OF ME. Mother of St. Dymphna, what next? Over the course of the next hour or so, I try various strategies for getting unhooked. I try jacking up my car (didn't work). I try letting a lot of air out of his tires - I know that was bad and it didn't work either. Finally, I get some tools and just remove his trailer hitch and move my car the hell outta there. I went inside and hid myself and tried to forget all about what had happened. It was a long time before I could see the humor in that night's events.

-- Jon Arthur (zanne1504@aol.com), September 08, 2000.