Thursday night was a rainy one, preceded by a rainy day.

As I got onto an exit ramp to get on the main highway that takes me home, I lost control of my vehicle. I started spinning, and my the only thought that went through my head was “You’ll be OK. You’ll have to ride it out.”

And so I did.

In retrospect its hard to say how many revolutions I endured. At first I thought it was only one, but thinking about it later made me believe it might have been twice. I can’t say for sure; it happened so fast but seemed to last forever.

My little Corolla came to a halt and I noticed all the dashboard lights were on and the engine had died. I wanted to just sit there, a little shocked and a little thrilled. But them I noticed another car coming down the on-ramp. I feared a collision or that it might also lose control, but it slowed to a stop.

My trance wore off, I started the car and continued my ride home, albeit more slowly.

And then I called my wife. I told her about the spin and explained I’d be home a little late.

“I’m going to stop in De Soto and fill up to add more weight to the car,” I said. “And I might need to change my underwear.”

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