It was a dark and stormy night. Attempting to make it from the house to my car without being completely soaked would prove to be an exercise of magical magnitude. Bidding a fond farewell to the friends in the doorway, I take off in a run across the long driveway. (This run, mind you, would be comparable to what you would call a "girl-run" - in high school, when boys would taunt each other with the "You run like a girl!!!!", what they were picturing was me, arms bent at the elbow, sticking out east and west, hands limply flailing, while feet executed the tiny steps of swiftly scampering across hot coals - YES, I ran like a girl)
Once in my car, wiping the rain from my face, turning on the heat, getting situated, plugging my cell in the charger, etc....
I realize as I see the house lights turn off, that I did not bother to ask for directions on how to get out of the housing edition. I do not venture to Noblesville often; navigating around the town, as it is on the smaller side, I am pretty ok with, but sticking me into the middle of a housing edition, in the dark, while it was raining....
Hey, I am a smart girl, I am certainly not put off by my predictament. I back out and procede to turn in the direction I "feel" I need to go. Let me pause here by saying, the houses in this particular development are all too big for their own good, all have finely manicured lawns, and I am sure are full of enough botox and collagen for a small army of bimbos. So yes, at the wee hours of dawn, in the rain, they all look the same.
Getting to the end of the street, I make the decision, right or left, ok, we will go right, and procede to what I think would be the exit. Nope, court. Damn. Ok turn around in the court, go back the other way...past the street I had turned from, ugh, court again. Make the turn around. Turn back onto the street I had turned from.
I would like to tell you that going the opposite way led me to quickly find the exit of the development.
I would like to tell you that the rain stopped and I was able to see.
I would like to tell you that for the duration of the 25 MINUTES I was driving around that FUCKING housing edition, that I did NOT have to pee.
I would also like to tell you that at one point, I did not feel like Chevy Chase in European Vacation, driving around Big Ben ("look kids! Big Ben! Parliament"), or that I did not talk to myself and cuss at anyone who happened to be listening...
I cannot do that. Because then I would also not have to admit that while one part of me BELIEVES that I drove around this swanky Noblesville development for 25 minutes, discovering new streets, ALWAYS ending up hitting another court and having to TURN AROUND - another part of me actually believes I was just driving around the SAME 3 or 4 courts.
As I pulled over to the side of the road, panting as though I had just raced the Indy 500, or completed a journey worthy of a medal, my gas light comes on.
As a woman, one of the worst qualities I have comes out in times of stress. Please don't fault me for it.
The "what-ifs". This arrives as a means, NOT to diffuse the current situation (why would we want to do that?) but to magnify it to explosive proportions.
What if I pulled over to the side and pissed in someone's yard? Would an alarm go off? Would security lights come on? Would the sprinklers go off???
What if I piss my pants? Can you get a pee smell out of upolstery? Can I resell a car that has been peed in? What if the pee ends up going into the gear shift and shorting out and then my car wont even run, and I will have to call a tow truck and explain that I peed my pants, and the pee was so great, it shorted out my car when it seeped into the gear shift and I can't tell you where I am, or how to find me except I am in a housing edition in Noblesville with 1000 fucking courts!!!!
What if I run out of gas in the housing edition? Will I have to take off on foot with my gas can to try and find a way out to find a gas station to get gas? What if I can't find my way back?
As I sit in my car literally decomposing on my own what ifs, I hear in the distance the low steady sound of Chariots of Fire beginning to echo. I reason, I have passed the point of crazy and that the pee has now welled up into into my brain and caused me delusions.
I have heard that the body, in times of great detriment, can have a surge of adrenaline, enough to lift cars off of people, or kick an unkickable ass....
As the Chariots of Fire played in my head, the determination to make it out alive overtook my body. I gunned the engine and put the car in drive, closed my eyes and layed into that gas pedal. I just WENT. Knocked over trees and mailboxes and believe I crashed through a pool house or two...but the next thing I knew, I was back onto 146th Street....smiling, as I looked in the rearview mirror at the fence I had crashed through.
Seeing lights in the distance, I knew THIS time, I would NOT run out of gas. THIS time, the swanky Noblesville neighborhood would not get the best of me. THIS time, I was victorious!!!!
Fuck. Was that a trickle down my leg.....