A stuck instance that I’d forgotten about for a while
In the fall of 2014, one of my mother’s friends would visit us from time to time. His name was Tony, and he had many cars—his main car was a 2005 red F-150. It was big and had large tires, but it also had RWD and bad traction; even wet grass was enough to get his tires spinning.
One rainy Saturday morning, he’d left our house. About five minutes later, I suddenly heard a noise louder than the thunder outside—a loud ZZZZZZZZZZZ!!! from Tony’s truck. I couldn’t see what happened from my window, so I headed outside to see for myself what’s happened.
Tony always backed his truck up in our backyard before taking off, sometimes he’d park his truck IN our yard. We hadn’t raked leaves for a while, so they formed a slippery mat that caught his back tires and kept him from leaving our yard.
He revved his engine and tried to break free three times; on the third attempt, he kept his boot down on the gas until his caked tires suddenly screeched on the pavement.
It was one of my favorite stuck memories, and if it weren’t storming that day I would’ve definitely recorded it
