Same here. I had this happen just this morning. I needed to run Abe to Ruckersville. Just a quick drop off - I wouldn't even have to get out of the car. (In this case, the Green Bean, our 1998 suburban) I was fully dressed, but I had my cozy, fuzzy house slippers on. Knowing what was involved with the trip, I just decided to leave my slippers on. No need to change.
Abe was in the driver's seat when I got out to the sub, so I jumped in as passenger, along with my unfinished cup of hot tea. We were moseying along - going down a curvy, country road - when the car died. Completely and totally died. So, no steering, and hardly any brakes. Abe managed to stop safely and pull over. I knew what to do. See, we've been having an issue with the battery shorting out on us, but it had never happened while driving! Only when it was parked and you had to start it up. I jump out and landed right in a snowdrift. Right off the bat, I have 2 slippers full of snow. Brrr! I hustle around to the front, Abe pops the hood, and then I and an act of Congress get the hood unlatched and lifted up. I reach in and wiggle the correct cable, the light comes on, Abe starts it up, I wade back through the snow drift, get in, and we're off. Before I can grab it, the rest of my hot tea gets dumped down the console and into my purse. Bummer.
We get to Ruckersville, drop Abe off, I clamber over the console into the driver's seat, and I'm headed home. All the while, I'm praying that the car won't die on me again. Especially going down 29! I made it approximately 1 mile, and it died. Thankfully, I was passing the Food Lion and was able to coast into the parking lot. Sort of. By the time I got it off the road, I could hardly steer it. I pretty much came to a stop by bumping a curb and blocking both lanes of the local Coffee Shop drive thru! I jump out, and go through the whole procedure again - this time by myself. As I get back in the car, I notice little hard things in my wet slippers. Little pieces of gravel from the pavement. I shake them out, wave to the cars waiting to get in the drive thru, and hit the next leg of my journey.
This time, I only make it a 1/2 mile - maybe. Smack on 29 with lots of traffic! I stuck it in neutral and coasted to the next driveway. I knew I wouldn't be able to make a 90 degree turn into a driveway - the steering was gone! So I just pulled over to the side of the road. Put on my flashers - oh wait. There's absolutely no power so I have no flashers. Great! I jump out, and do the same thing... again. There is so much traffic going by that I stand off the road and wait to get back in. This time, my slippers are full of grass and weed bits. When the traffic has a good break in it, I dash back to the driver's side and get in. Only a couple more miles to go and then I'll be off the main road. All this time, I've been staying in the right lane just in case I had to pull over. But now, to get off 29, I have to get in the left lane. Oh dear. Please Lord, don't let it die now! I make it to the stop light, wait through a red one, then finally get to turn onto the windy, country road again. Thank you Lord!
It happened two more times before I made it home. The last time was at a stop sign. There I am, flopping around in my wet, weed-covered slippers; the hood up and me trying to act like this is no big deal and I know what I'm doing. Sure enough, cars start showing up and backing up behind me. I wave them on around. They poke around me, craning their necks to see what is going on. I smile real nicely at them, slam the hood, jump in, start it back up, and dash and pray all the way to my driveway.
As I pull into our house, I make the decision NOT to drive the sub again until this problem is fixed. I squish and squash and flop into the house. Angi is mopping the kitchen floor. I track all the way across and down the basement stairs. I go up to my sick husband who is home with the stomach flu and tell him how grateful he should be that I'm home safely. He has no idea what I'm talking about. I fill him in, then plop down next to the wood stove and start drying out my slippers.
I really am thankful for the safety I had. All of the "dies" could have happened in worse places. I made it home just fine, and now that it's over and my feet are dry and warm again, it's funny!
The next time you're tempted like I was, go put on your shoes! :)