It Happened to Me: I Got Stuck in a Blizzard for 15 Hours

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Hello, yes, it’s that time of year again. Everybody’s making the trek home, whether that involves putting your trust in an elaborate bureaucratic system hellbent on putting you in a metal tube that slingshots you through the air, or taking matters into our own hands and driving home. I live on Long Island, a fact that for some reason upsets every single person I know. This means, among other things, that it’s a nine-hour drive from here to home, and with City traffic and Long Island traffic, it’s more like a twelve hour drive home. So I usually fly, but I have notoriously horrible luck traveling. If I fly, there’s about a fifty percent chance my flight will get cancelled. I’ve been laid over and stranded in Charlotte, Seattle, LaGuardia, Columbus, and Washington D.C., and one time I booked a flight that didn’t exist.

[Editor’s note: I was on the same flight as Chris for Thanksgiving break and we did have to deplane and wait for a new one because our first plane’s door hatch was broken, causing a 2 hour delay. Bad travel luck confirmed]

So last spring break I thought, why don’t I drive home. I didn’t have a car, but my friend Lily did, and she lived just outside New York City. Eight hour drive home, take the train into the city, and from the city to the island. What could go wrong?

I got stuck in a blizzard for fifteen hours.

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It Happened to Me: A Collection of One-Line Stories


We all have fun stories about meeting celebrities, punching windows, and being stood up by our professors that have so many twists and turns that not even a full post can thoroughly cover. However, some stories only need a single sweet line to burst into the world. Here are some of the Thrill Editors’ best, and shortest, “It Happened to Me”s.

“Campo caution taped up all the doors in Horvitz during a blackout while I was still inside.”

“I threw up in old side and just left it there.”

“I drunkenly tried to have phone sex in the middle of a Taft party.”

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It Happened To Me: My Professor Stood Me Up on Valentine’s Day


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an excerpt from the script

On Valentine’s day 2017, my screenwriting professor stood me up at the VI.

That morning, I’d approached him after class, and asked if he would mind giving me some notes on a screenplay I was writing with a friend from home. “It’s about a 18 year old failing DJ, who like, spends all of this blood money by accident,” I stammered. “But, like, it’s funny though.” My professor paused for a moment before generously agreeing to read it over. He offered to meet with me that evening, Tuesday, February 14, and suggested the VI as our venue, as he was grabbing dinner there with a few friends who happened to be in town. Convenience. Understandable. I think he could tell my night was wildly free– that I had nothing better to do than meet a professor at one of two date spots on campus at 5:30 pm on Valentines Day. What gave it away? Maybe it was the crusted FunDip at the corners of my mouth (courtesy of the CDO), or the unmistakable look of bitterness in my eyes, but either way, I gave him a feeble thumbs up and exited the Wright Center.

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