Tzvia Sephard
It’s a balmy Christmas Day in Pittsburgh and my friend, his friend, and I are taking two cars to the movie theater to see Wicked Part 2, after which I will drive 4 hours across the state to my home. Night driving isn’t my favorite but because there’s an ice storm coming and I want to be safe and warm in my own place when it arrives, I’m making an exception.
The two guys are in their truck and I will back out of my friend’s driveway and follow them to the theater. But when I put my car into reverse and press the gas pedal, nothing happens. No movement. No sound. Nothing. I try three more times, not believing what I am seeing. Same results: push the gas pedal to the floor and nothing happens. My car is pointing downhill, nose-in in his steep driveway. I’m going nowhere.
Determined to get home, we all get on our phones on the sidewalk in front of his house calling car rental agencies, airlines, and Amtrak. There’s a car available at the airport. The guys help empty my car completely (in case my 10 year old Volt cannot be repaired within reason), and take me to the airport. I get a free upgrade to a fancy big Mazda with heated red leather seats. There’s an hour until sunset. Off I go, the sunset in my rear view mirror.
The car is so fancy that I can’t figure out how to change the radio station while I’m driving and I will not stop. All I have is a religious station that thankfully is playing Christmas choral music. I sing along. Harmonize. Turn it off when it gets too preachy. I engage my left brain in crafting a multi-branched decision tree related to the car, including that my car will be over 200 miles away when it gets towed to a local dealer I don’t know. Including that I may need to trade it in without fixing it, rendering my car worthless. Including that I wasn’t planning on buying a car this week, this year, or even next year. But it’s Christmas and I’m enjoying the lack of trucks on the notorious Pennsylvania Turnpike and I’m singing Away in a Manger at the top of my lungs going 80.
By: Tzvia Sephard
Oh this captures the discomfort of the big unexpected predicament: putting one’s foot down on the pedal, done so often we don’t even think about it, and it doesn’t work. What? I can’t go where I’m going? And then driving home finally….”I didn’t plan on….I didn’t plan on….” I felt it!
Thanks for reading and feeling it! xox