Accidental Ambivalence

Stuck

This morning was something of an adventure. I got up, got dressed, broke enough ice off my windshield to see, and then drove to campus. There was no parking in any of the lots, so I ventured to the parking garage. There were no spaces inside the garage, so I drove to the top. The top of the garage hadn’t been plowed—they hadn’t even pretended to plow it. Whatever, I think, my car is front-wheel drive, it’ll be fine. I pulled into a spot on the ramp, put the car in park, and immediately realized that I was going to be stuck when I left class in two hours. I backed out in order to find a more appropriate parking space.

I got stuck.

I’ve done a bit of driving on snow, but Missouri isn’t typically much of a winter wonderland, so I wouldn’t call myself experienced. I do, however, know the basics. I put the car in drive—tapped the gas—car rocked, but didn’t move. I put the car in reverse—tapped the gas—car rocked, but still didn’t move. I put the car in drive—tapped the gas—mashed the gas—the car refused to move. Grumbled. Got out, kicked the snow away from both front tires (in backless shoes, mind you). Got in. I put the car in reverse—tapped the gas—tires spun. I put the car in reverse—tapped the gas—it moved a little, then got stuck again. I swore loudly. Got out, kicked away more snow, watched people around me do many of the same things. Got in. Put the car in drive—tapped the gas—tires gripped. I pushed the gas harder. Finally. I drove up the ramp, tried to turn right to park near the stairs and was almost hit by someone else trying to un-stick their car. I turned left and drove through seriously rutted snow all the way around to park near the doors. I pulled through a space so that I wouldn’t have to back out later. That took long enough, right? There was snow in my shoes, my jeans were wet, and I was annoyed

Despite all of that, I still love snow.

After class, far more people were stuck, forcing me to drive the long way around to the ramp again, but I made it out of the garage unscathed. As I drove down the ice-covered side street that leads to my apartment building, I noticed someone walking down the sidewalk. I recognized her as a girl who lives upstairs. I can honestly say that I really know none of my neighbors (with the exception of the older lady who lives next door who happened to be in my short story class spring of my freshman year), so I’ve never spoken to this girl. I was about two blocks from the building, and I suddenly felt like I should stop and offer her a ride—but I didn’t. It just felt weird, because I couldn’t tell you her name if both of our lives depended on it, and isn’t that sort of sad? And wouldn’t it have been strange if I had told her to get in my car. Wouldn’t I have declined if our positions had been reversed?

At the same time, wouldn’t it have been the right thing to do, or at least the considerate thing?

Labels: everyday musings

posted by nicalyse @ 6:43 PM