Unfiltered Story #325739

Backstory:
Back from 2010 to 2015; I was in an abusive relationship. The ‘friend’ I moved in with got it in his head I was faking my autism, and was trying to beat the truth out of me, or get me to…ahh…give up on life, as I was ‘stealing from his social security retirement’ with my lie.
Sadly, this was a year AFTER he convinced me to set him up with control of my bank accounts to help teach me life skills, like paying bills on time, writing checks, etc.
I’m also a dude, but I’m not a big guy. It’d be safe to say that 130lbs is a healthy weight for me.

On to the story.

So, in 2013, I took a job about 30 miles south of where we lived, just to get away from him at 5 AM and get back at 9 PM. Just to get away from him for every weekday.

I’m driving into my job interview for the job when I get pulled over by a state cop. Turns out; the dude had pulled ALL the money from my bank account so my excise tax payment bounced.
Which meant my license plate was not valid.
Which meant my car got towed.
And yes; I’m still, to this day, convinced he did it explicitly so I would lose my car and thus any way to ‘get away’ or work away from him.

So I’m sitting in a town outside the main city of my job, still 10+ miles away. It’s maybe 4:20 in the afternoon.
I have no money. Nowhere to stay. I know no one around.

I walk about a mile to a diner the tow truck driver told me about. And it looks like something out of the 60’s mixed with a biker bar. Every customer is a tattoo-wearing biker (Turned out a meet was going on a few miles away).
I’m sitting in a corner, calling my ONE friend the abuser did not chase away. Sadly, she works 3rd shift AND it’s her night off, so she will not be awake for another 3+ hours.
I’m leaving a voicemail about how my account was drained and my car was towed, and trying to not panic (I have a fear of being in strange places. Even getting a job is hard work for me).
The waitress asks if I’ll eat anything, and I reply with ‘A glass of water, please’.
Awhile later, the waitress and the owner both walk over to my table, and plonk down a glass of soda and a stack of pancakes, bacon, and sausage.
I start panicing about paying, when owner says ‘She’ *points to the waitress* “Overheard your call and told me. Food’s on the house.”

At this point, I’m trying to not cry from the kindness. It’s the first kind thing done for me in, well, 3 years.
As I’m finally starting to de-stress, one of the bikers walked up to me. Turns out; half the bikers had hard the story, too (I apparently have trouble keeping my voice down when I’m on the verge of a breakdown).
They pooled a few 20’s they had to let me rent a motel room if I could not get a ride back north.

It…was amazing, really.
And for anyone wondering:
1. My friend called me, and came to get me.
2. It took a few more years, but in 2015, I bailed on the abuser. Just packed a bag and left everything behind. I’m still fixing my credit score (He opened credit cards in my name when we lived together) but I’m much better off now!