No atheists in foxholes, right?
Posted by Lissa on August 27, 2010
So we’re driving back from a lovely visit to Shoothouse Barbie’s Cape retreat . . . quiet drive, not much traffic, smooth sailing really . . . and suddenly the headlights and the dashboard lights start flickering. Not going completely dark, mind you. Just dimming and flickering, like a flashlight with a dying battery.
It’s a little scary, but I did have this happen once before. I take a deep breath and switch on the brights. The dashboard lights flicker flicker flicker and then go completely dark before blasting back on at full power. I’ve lost my radio station presets but everything is now glowing steadily; I turn off my brights and unclench my shoulders.
Flicker flicker flicker. “Oh sh*t.”
I do the brights trick again.
And then once more.
Only this time, instead of resetting the car’s electrical system it just turns everything off. My headlights die — with me traveling at 60 mph, mind you — the car goes into neutral, and every interior light goes dark.
I have about two seconds worth of panic. Thank god it’s a moonlit night. And just as I’m hitting the brakes to coast to the side of the road and call AAA — all the lights come back on.
Flicker flicker flicker.
“Well, the hell with that.” I can live with flickering. There’s enough light to see by, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to do the fun oh-my-god-my-car-just-died trick while driving full speed. Uh-uh.
I drive the next hour and a half with slightly shaking hands and the occasional prayer. A little help here, God. Please? Just please have the car keep going for another hour. Please and thank you.
The mile markers have never ticked by so slowly.
Please, God. Just another forty-five. Okay? Please and thank you.
I stay behind other cars when I can so that my flickering headlights aren’t solely responsible for lighting up the road. I’d follow a car all the way home if it would just go less than ten miles over the speed limit, but no one’s quite that obliging.
Please, God. Just keep it going another half hour, okay? Please, and thank you.
By the time we make it home the power locks are ignoring me along with the interior lights. I don’t care. My hands are trembling and I’m not one tiny bit sleepy despite the late hour.
Thank you. Miserere nobis and all that. Thanks, God, for getting us home safely.
And now I’m running off to the car dealership.
Hope you all had a lovely week! Happy Friday!!
P.S. I’ve been blog-neglecting and now I’m comment-starved. Tell you what – if I get more than five comments on this post I’ll post some pics from my very first oyster shot :)