I met a guy two weeks ago....
No, matchmaker friends, this isn't a romance journal.
I was filling in extra hours at a nursing home in Jacksonville, NC, about an hour from home all week. On the way home, on Tuesday evening, my car decided to blow a tire in Hubert. Hubert is podunk and without much shopping civilization. Unfortunately, it was coming close to 6pm and most places were closing even in Jacksonville.
Most people would assume that I'm level-headed, calm, collected, and know my business, under stressful situations--at least, I like to think you think that.
Panic and an automatic call to Daddy is more my reality. Throw in a regretted curse word or two, groveling for help, and bouts of stupidity in conversation with Dad to complete my hysteria. Dad said he was too far away of course..."call triple A or your credit card", he says. "Be an adult, handle it."
Ok, fine!
In that split second though, I realize I'm going to have to act professional on the phone to the credit card company (they provide roadside assistance) and so I change my tone with Dad and say, "I love you, thank you" in the most sweet, pitiful voice.
During Daddy convo, I had already pulled over to a small strip mall with a big warehouse that reads "Oriental Marketplace". There were two places open out of the mostly abandoned storefronts--a print shop and a church. I stepped into the print shop first to get away from the traffic noise for a call to my Delta card and get an address in this middle of nowhere. The clerk was busy and seemed annoyed when I walked in on my cell phone. Ok, step out it is.
Next up.
Can I just say that strip mall churches have always rubbed me uneasy? Can't pinpoint why.
I still needed an address and the guy from Delta was starting to give me money figures that I don't like the sound of. I started debating how much time I could change the tire to spare tire all by myself or maybe I'll walk into the creepy church. Free labor, right?
Naturally, this is what a church is for...
Kidding aside, In that moment I was grateful and humbled that when I opened that door those two men seemed already alert as to why I was in their parking lot and asked immediately if I needed help. All my anxiety and my miserly calculations dissipated. As they are starting to help me, the guy on the phone gave me one last, actual useful information, that Sam's Club was the only place still open and about to close in a half hour. Therefore, I told him I no longer needed Delta's roadside service.
David and David came out and changed my tire to spare tire within 5 minutes.
Two Davids. That's confusing for telling a story. I would distinguish them by saying "tall and skinny" and "short and stout", but if they end up reading this, I'm going to catch flack. I'll refrain from calling short-n-stout Mr. Carl Winslow...
Whoops.
So, tall-n-skinny David says his friend is preaching on Sunday and decides to invite me after bragging about short-n-stout.
I took them up on it....
No, matchmaker friends, this isn't a romance journal.
I was filling in extra hours at a nursing home in Jacksonville, NC, about an hour from home all week. On the way home, on Tuesday evening, my car decided to blow a tire in Hubert. Hubert is podunk and without much shopping civilization. Unfortunately, it was coming close to 6pm and most places were closing even in Jacksonville.
Most people would assume that I'm level-headed, calm, collected, and know my business, under stressful situations--at least, I like to think you think that.
Panic and an automatic call to Daddy is more my reality. Throw in a regretted curse word or two, groveling for help, and bouts of stupidity in conversation with Dad to complete my hysteria. Dad said he was too far away of course..."call triple A or your credit card", he says. "Be an adult, handle it."
Ok, fine!
In that split second though, I realize I'm going to have to act professional on the phone to the credit card company (they provide roadside assistance) and so I change my tone with Dad and say, "I love you, thank you" in the most sweet, pitiful voice.
During Daddy convo, I had already pulled over to a small strip mall with a big warehouse that reads "Oriental Marketplace". There were two places open out of the mostly abandoned storefronts--a print shop and a church. I stepped into the print shop first to get away from the traffic noise for a call to my Delta card and get an address in this middle of nowhere. The clerk was busy and seemed annoyed when I walked in on my cell phone. Ok, step out it is.
Next up.
Can I just say that strip mall churches have always rubbed me uneasy? Can't pinpoint why.
I still needed an address and the guy from Delta was starting to give me money figures that I don't like the sound of. I started debating how much time I could change the tire to spare tire all by myself or maybe I'll walk into the creepy church. Free labor, right?
Naturally, this is what a church is for...
Kidding aside, In that moment I was grateful and humbled that when I opened that door those two men seemed already alert as to why I was in their parking lot and asked immediately if I needed help. All my anxiety and my miserly calculations dissipated. As they are starting to help me, the guy on the phone gave me one last, actual useful information, that Sam's Club was the only place still open and about to close in a half hour. Therefore, I told him I no longer needed Delta's roadside service.
David and David came out and changed my tire to spare tire within 5 minutes.
Two Davids. That's confusing for telling a story. I would distinguish them by saying "tall and skinny" and "short and stout", but if they end up reading this, I'm going to catch flack. I'll refrain from calling short-n-stout Mr. Carl Winslow...
Whoops.
So, tall-n-skinny David says his friend is preaching on Sunday and decides to invite me after bragging about short-n-stout.
I took them up on it....
