Thank you for your patience.
In case you were wondering, I didn’t run out of gas.
I think I would have died right then and there of embarrassment if that were the case. But no, I had over half a tank and a car fresh from the rental place. No logical reason exists as to why Elantra should have stopped dead in the middle of an underwater tunnel.
Talk about a literal nightmare coming true.
Gut-wrenching noises came from the hood as I invoked the Heavens and our inertia slowly disappeared. Somehow in the midst of disbelief/shock/terror, the crisis-calm section of my brain dialed 9-1-1 and the flipping-out section erupted in a praise as I found I was (just) close enough to the tunnel’s exit to get some signal.
Have you ever been in a crowded place when suddenly it seems as though everyone is staring at you? Yeah, that’s worse when it’s a tunnel and they have nowhere else to stare.
Suddenly, I was that person. The one who blocked up the tunnel. The type of person I have always thought about when going through those tunnels – at rush hour – and desperately thought I would never be. Desperately hoped.
My car broke down spontaneously, despite my appeals. However, I was provided with some astounding assistance: a police officer who was calm and gracious, a tow trucker who was efficient and protective of me, and a AAA officer who reminded me a lot of my dad and played my favorite radio station as we went to get a new car. As utterly and mind-bogglingly horrific as the materialization of one of my worst fears was, I was taken care of every moment. Sheesh. Thank God.
And hey, it makes for a good story, right? Slash blog post?