So a few weeks ago I went up to State College to watch this amateur snowboarding competition with my friend Chris. The event was.... well, uneventful. Most of the competitors ate it, and the only highlight of that portion of the day was seeing a guy run into a pole. With his crotch.
But anywho, after going inside to warm up and dim my highbeams, we decided to drive around the mountain... in my Saturn Ion, with front wheel drive. This was not my greatest shining moment of good commen sense. As we were driving up sunny side, there was no ice, so I thought we were pretty golden, until we reached the top of the hill, and the entire downhill side was covered in a thick sheet of ice. For any (most) of you scalawags who've never been to Tussey, the entire road around is a one-lane tres windy road. There was not a chance in hell that I was going to back down, so we buckled up and SLOWLY started driving down.
Chris kept chanting "Go slow, go slow" in his petrified manly voice, while my sister was in the backseat texting her boyfriend that we were going to die. What a chump. On the right side of the road, there was an uphill slope, so I was trying my damnedest to stay as close to that as vehicularly possible. On the left side, oh joy, a 30 foot drop. I had enough traction with a thin gravel strip under my left two tires.
About half-way down, I saw a Jeep 50 feet down facing uphill. The passenger was directing the driver backwards. The dude flashed his lights at me, to stop I'm assuming, so I halted and put my car in park and just sat there like a bum until he had backed the rest of the way down. I started to panic when I realized that I had no more gravel up ahead, it was about 2 inches thick ice for 70 feet. I said a little prayer to God, and Chuck Norris, and reluctantly started moving forward again.
It didn't take long for the car to lose all traction and start sliding forward, and I, like the idiot woman driver that I am, turned the wheel, and the back fishtailed and slammed into the right side, the UPHILL side. My car was almost completely sideways.
The two dreamboats from the Jeep started coming up the hill to help us out as we were all getting out of the death-rig. The boys tried smashing rocks against the ice, like the good little cave men they are. That was incredibly unsuccessful, and the one remembered he had a rock hammer in his car, and started jogging back down to get it.
Chris came over to me and started turning the steering wheel, I guess to straighten it out, when suddenly the thing just starts sliding down the hill, with him holding onto it, slipping down with it. He jumped in and shut the door, and the car just stopped about 30 feet from where it was. He got it down the rest of the way, atleast to the point where there was no more ice, and we said goodbye to the dudes who helped us out, and drove back to the apartment.
WELL, I thought that would be all the car-related excitement we would have for that weekend, but I'm not that lucky. I parked in the resident lot because the guest lot was full overnight. When I woke up in the morning Chris kept looking out his blinds like a creepy peeping-Tom neighbour.
He asked me where I parked my car, and I said in the first spot along the side of the building, and, it was gone. My car was missing.
After some hyperventilating, I shrieked "somebody stole my car!" It was State Patrick's Day weekend, and I thought some drunken frat boy had swiped my baby. Nope. Some fucker from the building called a tow because I didn't have resident tags. This happened right around midnight. Who calls a tow on someone at midnight? An asshole, that's who.
We called a few tow company's and I had to pay $105 bail to get Percy out of the lot.
Unrelated, I need a new job. I sent out my very first resume ever yesterday. Yay me. Now I'm going to go take off my infernal bra, and take a nap.