| One thing crucial to my teenage life is social activity, and one never finds more social activity than at a basketball game. Of course, nothing can compare to the juvenile delinquency that takes places after the games. I was never a fan of winter, and I was definitely not a fan of driving in the snow. Any activities that went on during the winter, Mandy drove. Our taxi was a grey, rusted Buick Century that could only be opened from the outside. The ceiling was held up by push pins, and it was nothing short of ghetto. It got us there, though. Maybe it was loud and smelled like gasoline, but you can�t always arrive in style. One particular night, we decided that Bonduel High was going to lose the basketball game anyway. Why bother staying? There are always a million things for the easily amused to do. And we are extremely easily amused. Mandy and I decided to take our extremely loud and hyper friend, Ashleigh, to cruise the mean streets of Bonduel via the Buick. With the windows down, letting in the cold January air, and the music blaring, we could have made any gangster proud. But, three teenage girls cannot stay entertained by car rides and loud music alone. There it was. Rob�s drive way. Did we need to see him? No, and he probably wouldn�t be home anyway. Perhaps he would be home, and he�d talk to us. As I argued about all the reasons we shouldn�t turn into the drive way, Mandy flipped on her blinker and approached the house. I crouched so low in the front seat I nearly fell on the floor. Someone was standing at the window. I could feel eyes staring at me, even though it was close to 10 �o� clock at night, and there were no lights to see me by. �Go knock on the door,� I whispered. �Who?� Mandy inquired, jumping at the thought of it. �Ashleigh, go,� I turned around whispering, as if someone overhearing me might be too much to bear. We watched Ashleigh get out of the car, and I crouched lower as the door opened and light spilled out against the Buick. I could hear voices, and I strained to hear words. Before I could, Ashleigh was already back. �He�s not here,� she informed us, in a dry tone. We decided that it was time to call it a night, and go home. Mandy threw the car in reverse, and I sat up in my seat. I had nothing to worry about anymore, until we hit a snow drift that was located toward the side of his driveway. Mandy put the car in drive, but the Buick Century was stuck. Ashleigh doubled over in laughter, until Mandy told us to get out and push. I can�t even push a shopping cart, let alone a rusted-out ghetto cruiser. By this time, two figures had gathered at the window. No matter how dark it was, I knew they were staring at us and the Buick Century. I was knee deep in snow, and the car showed no chance of moving after ten minutes. The objects at the window seemed stationary, because they hadn�t stepped away from the window since we got stuck. While I was soaked from the snow and cold from the January breeze, and I thought things could get no worse, the trusty rusty Buick stalled. Right in Rob�s driveway, stalled and stuck in the snow. Mandy, Ashleigh, and I were distraught. Then, headlights appeared at the end of the driveway. �Salvation,� I thought. It was Rob coming home from work, and looking pretty surprised to see three girls standing around in his driveway. Normally I�d be thrilled to see him, but in this case I wished I had a car seat to sink down in. After he had pulled in the driveway as far as he could with Mandy�s car being in the way, he got out of the car. �What are you guys doing?� He looked from us to the car. �We�re kind of, stuck.� Mandy replied, looking dumbly at him. �Do you think you could maybe help us?� I said, in a desperate tone. With Rob there to help, Mandy started her car again. Rob, Ashleigh, and I pushed the car right out of the snow. It was all Rob. What a hero! After thanking Rob repeatedly, we entered the Buick and drove off into the night. I was extremely embarrassed, but at least we were no longer in the driveway. Later, we threw some snowballs, took Ashleigh home, and got ourselves to our own homes. I told my mom about the misadventure of the night, and she only had one thing to say about it: �Always put the car in neutral.� |
| Stuck Personal Narrative: My Point of View |