Tell about a frustrating experience you have had with a car.
There are so many frustrations, right? But this one really sticks out in my mind.
Justin and I were living in Moscow, Idaho. I took a few days off work to fly down to St. George, Utah, to visit my parents. I was attempting to fly standby and save money. The flights were full and I didn't get on. So I ended up with a couple of days off.
It was winter. I decided to take some of my free time and spend it in the graveyard. I really like cemeteries. I think they are beautiful, peaceful, reverent, thought-provoking places. I go there a lot to write and think.
So I drive to the Moscow Cemetery and pull off the small driving path a little bit so that any other cars can get around me. I listen to music, write, read, think, pray, walk around and think about all the meaningful lives surrounding me that have been reduced to dates a few brief words. It's getting dark and I'm ready to go.
I make my way back to my car, and put it in gear. I can't go. I'm stuck in the snow.
I throw the car in reverse. No. In drive. No. Back and forth between gears, trying to get some kind of momentum. I'm stuck.
I try to dig out some of the snow around my tires with my bare hands. Did I mention I was in a skirt and heels? I do my best to dig out the snow and mud, but the car still won't budge. It's slowing sinking deeper and deeper into the snow. It's impossible. I need help.
I am so frustrated that I am surrounded by dozens, maybe hundreds of people, yet no one can help me. They're all dead.
In the chilly winter twilight, I walk about a half a mile along the side of the highway to a mini mall where I found a pay phone and called Justin at work. We only had one car and it was stuck in the cemetery. He was able to borrow his boss's car and come get me on his break, but his boss really wasn't too happy about that.
We drove to the cemetery hoping the two of us could dislodge the car. Justin was got behind the wheel and I stood outside the car to observe what was happening. Our Malibu was front-wheel drive and it just kept digging deeper and deeper into the snow. And finally into the soft, wet earth. Our spinning wheels practically unearthed a grave. The spinning wheels splattered me with snow and mud. I looked like I had just risen from the grave.
This wasn't going to work. I had a coworker whose husband had a large truck with a tow rope. That was our only option. So we got into Justin's boss's car and drove back to the mall where we both worked. Justin dashed back into work, trying to minimize the wrath of his boss. I walked down the mall walkways, looking like a zombie. My friends and coworkers passed me, without even recognizing me. And why should they? I was supposed to be in sunny southern Utah. And I was caked in drying mud.
I washed myself up and asked my friend if her husband could help me. He came with his truck and pulled us out in a few seconds. I still feel bad for the horrible tire scars we left on one man's grave. They were still there the next summer.
So that was a pretty frustrating experience. Patience often grows short in situations like that and let's just say we both had some making up to do after such a rotten experience. So the moral of the story is, don't be nice and pull out of the way in a snowy graveyard so other cars can go around you. Just take up the whole dang road!