If Johnny D had done this today, he’d have shown up in the bar with a phone video of it. We’d have watched the video and been like, “Wow, cool – forget it.”
But as it was, we were two ignorant, half-drunken idiots craving experiences, somewhat out of youthful energy, somewhat out of boredom. And this was an experience that promised to be big.
When the car lurched over the edge, I watched the speedometer go from nothing to like buried in a flash before slouching back into my seat. We were going very fast, but Johnny D kept the car moving in a straight line.
Until we hit a headwall and went airborne.
If you’ve ever been airborne in a car (I don’t recommend it), the following can happen: if the driver doesn’t let off the accelerator, the wheels have no resistance and create a high-pitched whine. Yes, Johnny D had his foot on the accelerator because go faster.
We were in the air for probably no more than a couple of seconds, it just seemed a whole lot longer. And when we landed very hard, Drinking Buddy #1 probably wished we could have stayed airborne. That’s because the passenger bucket seat (I told you we’d get back to it.) completely broke free and slammed into Drinking Buddy #1’s chest, Ang-occupant included. And that’s also when Johnny D completely lost control of the Skylark.
The car began to spin uncontrollably, which can happen when you’re traveling down a steep, snow-covered grade at unsafe speeds. During one of the revolutions, I happened to be able to focus long enough to see that we were headed off the ski run and directly towards the woods. It was at that moment that I got really scared. I did not pee or crap my pants, there wasn’t time for that.
And then, at the last second, for either divine or physics reasons, the car righted itself, and Johnny D was able to guide it to the edge of the parking lot. To this day, I cannot believe our good fortune.
However, the Skylark did not share in that good fortune. It was, in a word, destroyed.
Drinking Buddy #1 struggled for a time to extricate himself from a back seat full of bucket seat and Ang, but he soon joined me by the Skylark. We surveyed the damage. The front tires (where the car landed) were both bent inwards. It was kind of like looking at someone with two broken legs.
For his part, Johnny D was in a bit of shock. He had a real mess on his hands, and he knew it. Drinking Buddy #1 clutched his chest (he later was treated for two cracked ribs), and I took that opportunity to drop my expert medical analysis of, “Hey, guys, we’re outta here, he’s hurting.”
We left Johnny D and Ang standing by the saddest Skylark on the planet and got our butts straight the hell home. I think we both slept with one eye open that night, figuring the cops were inevitably going to come calling, but they never did.
So mission accomplished – we had a story to tell. I’ve told it often, and I just told you. Join me next time when I explain why the Early Aughts were the perfect decade to have a bachelor party in a cheese factory parking lot.
Chris is the co-author of DeckZ: The Titanic, The Giant Smugglers and plays guitar in this band.