Stuck in paradise, really stuck

By Joe Holden
April 4, 2002

“Alright, now I’m going to push. All I want you to do is slowly accelerate on the gas. Don’t floor it!” I said this to my girlfriend, Kelly, as I rolled up my sleeves to push my ton-something Buick. Of course her Dodge Neon is no match for my car, and she poorly misjudged its power.

“Stop, stop, stop!” I yelled as I cleared chunks of sand from my eyes to see my car steadily sinking into the damn sand.

It was about 65 degrees out and I decided to wear shorts and a tee shirt. Kelly called and asked about taking a day trip to Sea Isle. I thought it would be cool since it was a Friday and we both had off.

We drove down with little trouble and arrived in Sea Isle in less than an hour and a half.

We decided to walk on the beach, but it was not as warm along the ocean as it was back in Philly. So we retreated to the car and sat and watched the ocean.

About 30 minutes later a strange guy was walking around the car complaining about something, but since I have not been able to master hearing through car windows, who knows what he was babbling about. It freaked Kelly out and she said she wanted to go. I suggested we cruise along the beach. A car had jetted by us earlier and that’s where I got that idea.

“Joe, don’t drive on the beach. You’ll get stuck in the sand.” To which I replied “Oh come on. Let’s just see what happens. Plus what about that shady guy?”

Of course Kelly said no, and that was good enough for me. I started the engine and noticed a black cat dart out from under the car. I figured that was what the shady guy was talking about.

I asked Kelly where she wanted to go to eat. She then turned to me and said “Fine. Drive on the beach.” And I did. I circled around a few times and was getting nervous about my tires sliding through the sand. I was ready to make my way back up the hill to the road. I got stuck.

The entire body of the Buick was resting on the sand. The tires were completely buried. I lost it (Note to those without four-wheel drive: keep your cars off the beach and stay away from Daytona.)

It took almost an hour for a tow service to come and rescue us. I’m just going to say that he wasn’t the brightest. Not to mention that the tow truck started falling down the incline as it was trying to pull my car.

Nearly $250 later, I was on my way home. Now, three weeks later, I am still plagued by the sounds of sand whisping through my engine.

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Joe Holden

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