Last night wasn’t a lot of fun.
I set off for football with that week’s designated driver who I usually employ as he’s going that way, anyway and I can hardly give lifts to several people with a motorbike, and all was well. It was cold -- it was bloody cold, well into the minuses -- but such was life When we arrived for the game, it was still just that, cold. Sure, the pitch was frozen and we may as well have been playing on a concrete parking-lot, but we’ve had worse.
The snow came like a thief.
It was just there. Gentle at first, visible, but not notewothery. It got progressively worse so slowly that you didn’t really notice it until it was coming on so hard that it carried on the whipping wind sideways and you couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead of you. Not ideal conditions to play football in, but we carried on as best we could, anyway. We lost the game, but we were overjoyed just to get off the pitch come full time.
Obviously, as the game died, so did the snow and we thought nothing else of it aside from complaining endlessly about said weather on the way home, as we English are wont to do. We took the longer, better travelled route home to travel on roads where the snow would be less built up. Then, driving through town, a fox ran out in front of the car, the driver braked, the snow took hold and we smashed into the curb.
The results: one wheel that should have been round was now a crazy olive shape.
We decided to limp the car the last couple of miles home, probably more to keep ourselves from walking in the freezing weather after a knackering football match previously, so pulled off. The car didn’t like taking corners so, now and then, we had to stop it while I got out and pushed it, back and forth, until it was in a position to move. The wheel looked like it was fit to fall of at any second, which made the last stretch of road before home -- one littered in speed-bumps as there’s a school nearby -- a hell of a lot of fun.
And now there's ten times as much snow outside as there was yesterday. This does not please me at all.
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|darketernal - February 02, 2009 (09:14 AM)
Ahhh, the joys of an olive shaped wheel. I know it all too well. Happened to me once when I drove drunken mates home during a downpour of rain that practically flooded the streets. One of them started to scream paranoically at some turn that I had to turn right and not left(he was naturally wrong), and I started to turn the wheel at an unatural startled angle which ended with the car at the curb. I managed to drive it home with my mighty strength the only thing controlling the wild wheel from going as it wants.
Still, I must say it pleases me that you were the one that they got to push the car.
|wolfqueen001 - February 02, 2009 (09:26 AM)
You know, this isn't the first time I've had to wonder why you do something that you know isn't going to turn out to be as fun as you thought it was going to be.
But fine. I concede to you this once. Your weather isnow officially worse than ours has been. Especially since the last time it snowed like that was before winter break.
All the snows I've been talking about since then sort of just built up over time... nothing as bad as that first one, though, which caused traffic to stop altogether and dozens and dozens of flights to cancel.