There are many ways of breaking a heart. Stories were full of hearts broken by love,
but what really broke a heart was taking away its dream - whatever that dream might be.
Pearl S. Buck

Wednesday, September 26

The Second or Third Worst Day

So when I was in Art School, yea the fart institute of Houston, I had one of those days where you felt like you were falling off a cliff and you never land. Today was right after that one. But I digress. Let's face this again together, shall we? OOO goody. It all started on a cold rainy day in Texas.

On the way home from school, driving my beloved Super-beetle, during one of those amazing thunderstorms in downtown Houston. Driving, blinding rain. The windshield wipers were barely capable of keeping up with the deluge. Five o'clock traffic was heavy but moving at a good speed. I wormed my way into the inner lane of southbound I45. For any of you that haven't been to Texas, or Houston that's a "four laner"(maybe five?).  Im clipping along at an impressive pace, and I hear a BAM. Then that sinking feeling, literally, as the back left tire goes... FRACKENDOODLE... Me, a 24 year old girl starts hearing cars honk and seeing them swerve, skidding on the saturated pavement, trying to avoid collision from the sudden drop in speed in the fast lane. I think I gotta get out of here before I get crushed!

My brain kicks in! OH I know, BLINKER! I strike the wand, the start looking over my right shoulder just knowing they could see me, say aw poor thing, and let me over. Naivety was huge at that time and hasn't dimmed much since. I grab my girl balls and move to the right shoulder over 5 lanes of traffic in the flooding rains. It was kind of like playing dodge ball. Ironically in an orange bug! I get to the right, with a relieving vision of the overpass bridge ahead. Thinking to myself, that's one shot rim on the same side as all this traffic going by. I have NO wrench in the car, but do have a spare. There were NO cell phones at this time in history. I was destined to trudge up the hill to the closest gas station... because I wasn't sitting in that car "hoping" for help.. SEE? naive.

I carry my purse, like an idiot, head up the hill, and make it to the top. Thankfully there wasn't any mud. I head down the road in search of the gas station. A desolate street with abandoned looking shot up houses. A lone young white girl walking through what appeared to be a really bad section of town. I was walking quick, trying to hide the fact that I was an idiot that was carrying a purse, a truck load of men, who didn't speak English, drove by shouting loving terms to me, I just know it. I picked up the pace even more, and as I was looking ahead not down, my foot fell into a gas meter hole up to my knee. I fall forward into the mud. The pain was pretty harsh, but I don't shed a tear. Signs of weakness make you prey in survival town. I jump up and practically sprint, hobbling towards the glowing shell in the sky ahead of me. I finally find the supposed "sanctuary", 5 men are watching this pathetic young creature approaching.  One of them was actually in the truck that went by. I tell the story of my sweet little bug muffin stuck on the side of the road with a flat and no wrench. The response? "No habla inglese". OMG. My high school years of spanish had landed in the meter hole. I repeat in english what I had said, then i said "Telephone?" They got that... I called my mom. Told her the story... that's when I cried. They couldn't even tell me the address, so I had to go find that myself, come back to the phone to tell her. She was on her way. I sat down at the gas station, composing myself. The guys must have felt sorry for me because at that point, a man who spoke English comes up and says, "what happened?" I almost kissed him.

We get into his van to try and get back to the bug and fix all problems hopefully before mom leaves. We head out on the freeway looking for the car, because I don't remember where it is at this point. These poor guys. We didn't go too far and saw it on the right side. We crisscrossed across the downtown freeway pretzel to get on the right road north to rescue the maiden. Sigh of relief. Hope is in sight! We park behind it... I go up to the door to open up the car, put the key in, turn it... it breaks off into the lock of the door. I turn around to the large hispanic man who speaks english, he is looking at me, says "You gotta spare?"Really? and if I did would it be ON me? Sadly, NO. They all roll their eyes at me. We all get back in the van and head back to the station.

They laughed, I sighed, and about an hour later my mom showed up. She and I spoke to the guys about solutions. I don't even remember what we decided to do, because we were going to need a locksmith, a new rim, and a tire. At this point I couldn't even think. We got into the car to head back home. Once those doors were shut, and we drove away, I started crying. Probably didn't stop for about half an hour.  Thankful to be alive, feeling like an idiot, grateful for once to my mother.

And you know what? Today? Yea almost as bad. The difference between then and now, is that I am a victim of a different set of choices. I will tell that story once its ending appears. All I can say is if I had anger issues? I might have been arrested today for what I would have done to another human being's things, or their person. Because they deserved it.  Didn't. Won't. Accepted after going out to find some truths and walking quite a bit. And finally laughed. This story isn't over yet. And I am going to lay down the law now. Its a good lesson for me in boundaries. No one else is walking on me like that again and trying to shame me. I can do this with a mostly rational mind.

I have evil thoughts of retaliation. OOO another story! stay tuned. AND be thankful.

1 comment:

  1. I like ... excellent reading ! !