After my busy, hectic week, imagine how relieved I've been to have an open, lazy weekend with nothing more pressing than one trip to the gym in it. Yesterday I got up early, determined that it was far too rainy and windy for meeting up with my running club, and drove the 12 or so miles to my gym for a good workout. By 10:30 I was heading back up the freeway towards home, happy at the thought of having a hot shower, donning my pajamas, and spending the rest of the day in lazy solitude.
As I left the freeway on the familiar exit lane, I slowed considerably--it wasn't raining at that precise moment but the roads were wet and I know from previous experience that this turn-off can be a little slippery in wet weather. Sure enough, as I reached the end, to turn onto the road into my neighborhood, poor Rosie Pro fish-tailed a little. I wasn't even going fast, maybe 35 miles per hour (the exit sign suggests 40), it was just slippery, I was going into a turn, and...oh, crap!
I couldn't correct Rosie's course and I slid off the road into a grassy area...and I promptly got stuck.
Really stuck.
The guy behind me stopped to make sure I was okay, and other people slowed to check. I would give them a thumbs-up but there I was, stuck fast. Mortified and unsure of just how to get out of this predicament, I did what any self-respecting young feminist would do.
I called my dad.
Then, two angels in the form of a middle-aged man and his 20-something son/partner/I don't even know came along in a big ole pickup truck. Seeing my emergency flashers on, they stopped and said the most beautiful words: "I think I can pull you out!"
Within a few minutes, he'd hooked my car to the front of his truck and we were gently easing Rosie out of the mud. As Dad arrived, it was to find me happily backing back onto the road. We risked blocking traffic so all I could do was shout out my window, "Thank you so much! Merry Christmas!!!" as I rolled away. My two Good Samaritans smiled and waved, wished me a Merry Christmas, and we all hastened to get out of the way. Dad followed me home and let's just say that there's been no shortage of teasing aimed in my direction.
So it's all's well that ends well. Rosie doesn't seem to have any damage, though I'll have the dealership take a good look when I get my oil changed later this week. I was shaken (losing control of your car, even at a low speed, is not exactly fun, or good for the nervous system) but I'm uninjured.
Today I went to Safeway to get a few things and had no problems driving--I avoided the freeway, and even in the neighborhood, my intrepid little Protege was whipped around a little from the high winds this weekend's storm is giving us. After I returned home, Dad smirked at me.
"Did you stay out of the mud?"
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