STATEN ISLAND, N.Y.—I got stuck in the snow. There—I said it. And yes, for reasons that cannot be fully explained—a plow blocking another street, a sudden surge of fearlessness mingled with misplaced confidence—I took the road less traveled. Literally.
Other cars were stuck, so I thought I’d be clever and avoid their fate. That foolish decision began with a burst of glorious momentum up the block, right until the first of two speed bumps. The second one ended my progress and my pride. Whose well‑funded traffic study brought a pair of speed bumps to this nice, sweet block in Randall Manor? Woe to the day.
What is a writer to do except write about it? Few things are worse than sitting diagonally in the middle of the street like a wounded animal—except developing a nervous tick that the neighbors are glaring from their windows because you’re blocking a plow from clearing their street…