In all my years on Earth, I never once considered what I would do if my brakes were to stop working while I was driving down a steep hill. I had more frequently pondered strategies for evading or combatting a school of sardines armed with frag grenades and legs.
Unfortunately, fate cares little for well laid plans. The fact of the matter was that my car’s brakes were unresponsive, and I was rapidly gaining speed.
It’s often said you regret the things you don’t do, but in that moment, I regretted selling my handbrake for three dollars to that guy who was wearing nothing but a pair of underpants. I’m humble enough to admit that was a critical error, along with not getting my car serviced for sixteen years.
To say that my brakes failed at an inconvenient time would be an understatement akin to suggesting that a proton is somewhat small. The steep road I was hurtling down concluded at a T-junction punctuated by a brick wall. I got the distinct impression that I wouldn’t survive crashing into that wall, what with the lack of seatbelts in my car.
Selling my seatbelts was probably a mistake too.
Seeing as I was not the protagonist of a cartoon, I couldn’t rely on gravity momentarily ceasing to exist on my behalf. It was also doubtful that anybody would come to my rescue unless they had a jetpack on hand or were inexplicably omnipotent. Circumstance was forcing me to pull myself up by my bootstraps and find a way out of that situation all on my own.
I briefly considered bailing out of my car, but at the speed I was going, that felt like choosing to die longer and painfully rather than instantly upon hitting the brick wall. That idea was swiftly replaced with detailed mental plans to convert my car into a rocket and fly to safety Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time, nor the materials, nor the capacity to turn my car into a twin-engine jet, least of all while it was in motion.
After punching myself in the head a few times while shouting an array of profanities, I was suddenly struck with an epiphany. The solution to my woes had been staring me in the face the whole time. The road ended at a T-junction, meaning I could either turn left or right and thereby save myself. I would have jumped for joy, but I was sitting down, so I sat for joy instead.
With my plan hatched, I gripped the steering wheel, exhaled deeply, and prepared to do that which those of less fortitude and intelligence could never hope to achieve. Safely executing a ninety degree turn while traveling at nearly 150kmph is no easy feat.
The task is made even harder when you can’t decide whether to turn left or right.
I’m happy to report that I did learn something valuable from this ordeal. When in stressful situations, you must be able to make difficult choices quickly. Remember, indecision kills.
Then again, I probably would have died no matter what I did, so really, the moral of this story is give up. Nothing you do matters.
My kind regards from the depths of Hell.