Weekend Wrap-up Part 1: The Quest for Beer

Had a slightly adventuresome weekend. Let me break it down...

On Saturday Joe was having some friends of his over to discuss his latest project, and one of those guys was bringing his wife along to keep me company. After going into clean-up mode in the rest of the house Joe tended to his man cave while I decided to make a trek for some wine and beer for everyone.

Now as I think I've mentioned before (and in case you couldn't already tell) I really hate the winter and for a number of reasons; one of the biggest being that I hate to not be able to walk to the places near us because it's too cold or too icy. I get so sick and tired of being cooped up or relying on driving so much when the places I need to get to are only 5 minutes away. One of those places is the liquor store.

I stepped outside that afternoon to test the air. It was cold but thankfully the wind wasn't blowing so I bundled up, plugged my headphones into my iPod, and grabbed my black grocery bag as I headed out the door.

I got about halfway there when I realized I had just grabbed my debit card and not my ID. Though we really do live pretty close I didn't want to bother turning around to go get something I might not even need, so I kept going. Besides, it would be getting dark soon enough.

I crossed York Road and walked into the store. A kindly middle-aged woman came around and asked if I needed anything. After I told her what beer I'd like she carried it over to the counter for me.

"I'm going to try to make this easy for you since we saw that you walked here," she said smiling and with a slight Southern drawl.

I thanked her but showed her I came prepared with my own shopping bag. She was just placing the second 12-pack inside when she said, "Just gonna need to see some ID, sweetheart."

Ugh, crap. I chuckled loudly to myself and admitted to her that I had accidentally left it at the house.

"How old ahre you?" she asked seriously.

"25..no I mean 26!" I blurted out, but it was too late. She cocked her head to the side and with the sweetest tone said, "Ah, I'm sorry, but I caain't sell it. I am so sorry." I assured her I understood and walked out empty-handed, cursing myself. Freaking nervous teenagers who don't prep themselves before they try to buy beer and are carded would've answered better than I did, and I AM of age.

I got home and told Joe the story but said I would go back out and try again. I did so and went back to the same liquor store. The woman was gone but instead a guy that had just walked in hopped the counter and waited on me. He did, of course, card me, but at least this time I was prepared.

After I got home I reached into my backseat to grab the brown paper bag (which must have been made of glorified brown spray-painted crepe paper) and it ripped all the way down. Damn damn damn.

I then had to balance a 12 pack of beer and two bottles of wine on a icy sidewalk tight rope. I made it all the way home and figured my night wouldn't be any more eventful than that. I was, of course, sorely mistaken...Part 2 tomorrow.

Steer Unclear

Merry Yuletide everyone. Hope everyone got a nice haul of gifts and the gifts they gave were big successes. That is probably the worst part of Christmas: the anxiety that your gifts will either 1.) not measure up to the gifts the recipient gives you 2.) will not be liked by the recipient. Thankfully as far as I know my gifts were well-received and relatively equivalent (whew! Another year down).

But after that anxiety wore off, I was faced with a kind I had not expected- the fear of trying to get home. Allow me to jump back...

Saturday night, Christmas night, my family was settling in for the night, allowing our full bellies to digest while discussing the days' events. When the novelty of that wore off we eventually came around to talking about when both Hill and I would depart for our other homes; Brooklyn and Baltimore, respectively. I mentioned how I was planning on leaving Monday, and my mother mentioned how a snow storm was heading our way on Sunday. I brushed it off as just a mother's worries and her attempt at trying to talk me into staying longer. I would soon be brushing off alot more than her worries.

Sunday came and the day looked a bit overcast, but nothing serious. I had plans to meet up with an old friend and just as I was getting ready, I noticed the skies had opened up and brought down thick fluffy snow. It had started small only briefly, but before I knew it, the ground was covered. Still I brushed off what was on my car and took off for the restaurant.

Now as I'm pretty sure I've established, I'm not the best with directions, even in places I've been too. I know the area my parents live in PRETTY well, so even if I got a little turned around I figured I'd be able to find my way. I am driving along Route 18, a fairly common and well-used highway and notice the snow is getting thicker and slicker. Cars in front of me are driving extra cautiously, barely going much over 35 mph. I glance over to the other side of the highway and spot several bright flashing lights indicating an accident. My stomach, for the first time (but certainly not the last) lurches into my feet, and I begin to doubt my decision to drive anywhere.

I decide to follow the traffic and get off at the first exit, which I am relieved to find leads me to the area I wanted to be in anyway. The roads are getting even more thickly coated with snow and as I pull up to make a right onto another busy highway, I lose control of my car and it begins to slide. I hold my breath but fortunately the traffic is approaching at a snail's speed, and everyone seems to be paying extra attention due to the conditions. I regain control but not my breath. I am genuinely freaked now, and just when I thought it couldn't get worse, my gas light goes off. Again, fortune is smiling because I am very close to a number of gas stations. I pull up to the nearest one, wait as my car shimmies again, and then gently pull up. There is a line of cars leading out to where I am in the highway, but I stay put and wait my turn.

I awkwardly text my friend that I will be unable to make it, and suggest she either get on the road immediately or else wait till tomorrow. When that is said and done, and I have my gas, I decide to simply go home. I begin to follow the traffic once again, but the roads are getting worse and worse, not to mention the complete white-out in front of me. I find the way I need to go has not been touched by plow or tires and so I choose instead to follow the roads more travelled. I soon find myself hopelessly lost in an area I am unfamiliar with. Every turn I make leads to either a detour or a completely snow-covered road. Bridges are closed. Highways are blocked. I lose control of my car one more time (on a bridge) and for a single brief moment I contemplate abandoning my car and hope someone in my family can pick me up. Instead I take few breaths and carefully follow whatever rear lights I can and purposely keep my car at a steady 15-20 miles per hour. At long last, my patience and care pay off as through the thick white curtain of snow I finally recognize my parents' neighborhood and bring my slippery car home.

It will forever be one of the scariest drives of my life.

Have a similar story? Experience some hellish driving conditions? Feel free to post them here for everyone's reading pleasure.