Sunday, November 22, 2015

How to Drive in Winter the O.H.M. Way

Step 1: The Mental Preparation

Survey the conditions of your driveway and shitty 2005 Subaru with 126,000 miles on it, both of which are buried in ice and snow. Make a mental note that each is a white lump only vaguely discernible as the object that it is. Open can of whoop-ass. And by whoop-ass, I mean lemon flavored La Croix sparkling water or better yet a Diet Coke. Chug it in two sips. Suck in air in a very exaggerated way and then crush the can like Rocky Balboa. Belch loudly and throw the can dramatically over your shoulder like they sometimes do in the movies. Then go pick it up and put it in the recycling, thus negating the aforementioned dramatic effect. Crack your knuckles and jump up and down a few times while clapping your hands and repeating "OK. Let's DO this shit!" over and over.

Step 2: The Physical Preparation

Stick key in ignition and whisper to yourself the following incantation under your breath: "come on you piece of shit start start start start start." Scream "THERE WE GO!" victoriously when the engine finally turns over. Blast the heat on as high as it goes as you hunt for the ice scraper. Commence 15 minutes of rigorous scraping, stopping juuuuuust at the point where it's no longer completely irresponsible to operate a vehicle whose windows are this obscured by ice, snow, and grime. Settle into the driver's seat and blast Top 40. Put your hands 10 and 2 on the wheel. Think about how you still haven't changed out your tires, and you have no studs, and there's nothing you can do about it now. Worry briefly that you are--at least in this moment--a horrible stereotype of a female driver.

Step 3: The Execution

Adjust your mirrors and repeat the "Let's DO this shit!" thing from Step 1. Say a Hail Mary even though you're Jewish, and turn all the way around so you're looking out that one tiny hole in the rear windshield from Step 2. Pray there's no oncoming traffic, and slowly let your foot off the brake. Feel the adrenaline begin to course through your veins as you careen down a 45 degree driveway while laying on the horn, just in case someone or something should happen into the path of your car in the three seconds it takes to reverse car-sled into the street. Breathe sigh of relief at the miracle of having successfully navigated driveway. Begin to drive and anticipate inevitable skid at several particular skid-prone, anti-lock brake-defeating areas of commute. As you invariably go into a skid at each of these locations, try to remember that thing you're supposed to do when you go into a skid. Take hands off wheel? Take feet off pedals? Go WITH the skid. Don't FIGHT the skid, you tell yourself like you're fucking channeling Morpehus from The Matrix. Note numerous cars undergoing roadside assistance and silently acknowledge that you're one false move away from joining them. Successfully reach destination with minimal damage to person or property and think about how the next time, you won't be this lucky. Then think about how many "next times" there will be between now and April.

And that's how you drive in winter like One Hot Mess.

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