freesia’s freaky deaky friday five
1. Do you have a car? If so, what kind of car is it?
I do! My darling Zoe, who recently became an official Washington resident, after having contraband Illinois plates for nearly two years after moving here. She is a 1999 Mercury Tracer, four-door, white, automatic, adorable. She was a graduation present of sorts from my family, and she is the one true love of my life. Aside from my dog, of course. She needs a bath in a major way, but looks pretty damn good considering everything she’s been through.
2. Do you drive very often?
All the time. I live in Greenlake, I work in Queen Anne, and I spend the majority of my free time somewhere in Capitol Hill. Plus, since I have a dog, I often drive home for lunch to spend a little time with her while she’s stressing out about the fact that people are MOVING INTO OUR HOUSE.
3. What’s your dream car?
This shifts daily. For awhile, my dream car was a big jungle jeep - something huge and buff and sort of khaki. Essentially, I want my head to be as far from the ground as possible while driving, without resorting to monster truck tires. Of course, this is the “dream” car that would never be my “actual life” car. On a slightly more realistic level, I would love to have a mini-SUV. My friend Shawna has one that I just love, and the … what is it called, Aztec? I like those too. However, I will probably have my current car for a long time, if it holds out, and when I need a new car, it will be something cheap. (I can always dream.)
4. Have you ever received a ticket?
Parking or Speeding? My driving record is impeccable - no tickets. Of course, I’ve only had my license since I was 21. Now, if we’re talking about parking tickets, B— and I somehow managed to rack up 31 of them. I’m only claiming six - but that’s still a lot of parking tickets. Since I’ve been living on my own, I’ve gotten … ZERO. This should probably tell me something.
5. Have you ever been in an accident?
Yes. As for how many, that depends on how you define “accident”. If cars actually hitting isn’t necessary, three. If it is, then two. The first was during Interim Break my sophomore year at Olaf. Joel and I were driving out to Madison to visit some friends of his, and my Caitlin. On the way, it was blizzarding, and there was a full inch of black ice on the road. We’re going 70, weaving through traffic that’s going 30 because they can’t see where they’re going. Joel decides he wants to take off his coat, so he hands me a sleeve to pull on, and momentarily looks away from the road. The next thing I know, the car is in a full spin - Joel’s checking the side mirrors, the back mirror, counter-steering, all while telling me that it’s going to be fine. He never even breaks a sweat, despite the fact that Grace (his car) manages to make three full 360s before we slam into the ditch. I - as is my MO when I’m freaking out - burst out into frantic laughter, which stops after a minute when I realize “Holy SHIT, we’re in Minnesota in January in a blizzard and we’re stuck in a ditch! I’m going to be an Aliciasicle!” My eyes get big and I turn to Joel, who hands me a cigarette and says “Don’t worry. We won’t be here long.” Before I even have the chance to light up, a middle-aged woman in a huge SUV pulls up and says “Hey, need some help?” and tows us to safety. The second was on our way to see Todd Coulter in Angels in America up in Minneapolis senior year. Dian Hermes was driving us in her little car, Pip Gengenbach was in the front seat with her, and Gloria Gamboa and I were in the back. Some asshole pulls into our lane from the right - we must have been right in his blind spot, because his back bumper was maybe even with the back of our front doors. Dian swerves left - and the guy who was in that lane pulls a hard RIGHT and slams right into the left rear wheel well, right next to me. This sends us into a screeching 180 in the middle of 35-E, which should have caused a pile-up considering how FAST the traffic was going, but miraculously didn’t. We come to a complete stop - nobody is breathing, and Pip says “Ow. I stubbed my toe.” The best part was that just as the guy was coming into our lane, he threw a glance back - too late - and actually made eye contact with Glo. She looked up at him, pointed at him, and was saying “What the FUCK?!” as Dian started swerving. The guy saw the whole accident, and just kept driving. In the end, the guy who hit us was really nice, and we only missed the first few minutes of Todd’s show. The third time was the very first week we were in Seattle. We were on our way to Bumbershoot when we were sidewsiped on I-5 North, a block south of the Seattle Center Exit, by a migrant worker with no permanent address, no brakes, and no insurance. That’s all I’m going to say about that one. Several weeks and $3000 worth of damage later, he’s State Farm’s problem. I’m just glad there was a cop there - she was attending to a fender-bender less than 30 feet from us when it happened.
I’ve got many, many Joel stories. I’m rather fond of this one, however. It’s pretty telling.
I have my own snowy accident story—I was driving back to NYC on I-80 one wintry January day. I had already lost a couple of hours at a dead stop on the interstate in PA—some big accident up ahead. The plows and salt trucks couldn’t keep up, so the snow was getting packed onto the road good and thick. By this time, it’s 1am, I’m in the Poconos, I’m going 35-40, everyone else is going 35-40. My dad calls my cell and I pick up. In the middle of our conversation, I hit a slick spot and do a 90 into a snowbank on the right side of the road. I tell my dad, “Gotta go, car just spun out.” Luckily, I was just past a rest stop, so I had someplace warm to wait while the tow truck came by to pick me up. He pulls me out and the car limps along to the next exit. There, I find that the alternator belt came off, so the battery is REALLY dying. I barely make it to the next exit after that, where there are motels and stuff to stay in. Stay the night, call another tow truck to bring me to the nearest service shop which is in lovely Wilkes-Barre. Suffice it to say I got through that day all right.
And as for people who merge into your lane without checking their blind spot and almost hit you? Lay on your horn, long and hard. Hehehe. It’s SOP in New York, but surprisingly there’s usually no need for that maneuver because everyone’s adept at changing lanes in dense traffic. (Anyone who you have to honk at in the city is either from out of town or a cabbie deliberately trying to cut you off.) I once did that in Chicago—I was on the Drive in the right-hand lane with a heavy merge from the right and a guy merged into my lane without looking. Instinctively I laid into my horn full-blast and kept on it until he got out of my way. My brother got a huge laugh out of that…what he’d do is brake, let him in, then pass him and flip him off, so this “novel” approach was terribly amusing to him.
If you know a better Joel story than that, I would LOVE to hear it.