After re-locating to the DC area from the California Sierras in the mid 1980s, we had an interesting experience with a small amount of snow. I was teaching in Potomac, MD and living in Arlington, VA. After work, I was to pick up my husband at George Washington University and head home (1985?). On this day, my school was cancelled at 10 am, and everyone headed home. Since it did not look like much weather to me and since I was to pick up hubby at 5 pm, I kept on grading papers. At 4 pm I headed off in my trusty front wheel drive Hyundai. There was less than 1 inch on the ground. I recall having a vague inclination to stop at the restroom prior to heading out, but really, this was promised to be no more than a 40 minute trip. Well. . . I was wrong. I could not get to GWU after 2 hours, so I headed home, confident that my Navy officer husband could navigate the metro and get home without me.
I ended up on Chain Bridge around 8 pm. Now it was 4 hours since my identified bathroom break. Traffic did not move.. . . People (ahem. . . men) ahead of me were observed shooting steamy streams out of windows or discreetly under doors. The woods were a good 100 yards behind me–I was dead in the middle of the bridge. I finally scrounged up a socket set from the trunk. And, yes, I peed in it.
I eased it out the door onto the bridge. But. . . I had neglected to take out the sockets! quel dommage! Several hours later. . . a steep hill and scenes from Dr. Zhivago. Long story made short: The sockets survived and hubby made it home through the sludge from metro to metro. But I think I had the greatest adventure of all.
For anyone stranded on Chain Bridge. . . or anywhere else in the DC area tonight or any night, I feel your pain.