Kind Gestures Form A Chain

, , , | Hopeless | October 30, 2017

After a long search, I finally get a short job in the next town over. It’s production work, so I have to get up early, and it takes me half an hour to get there. I’m on my way there on my bike at around 5:00 am, and there’s not a soul on the road, as you can imagine. Then, at the worst location possible — some godforsaken back street with nothing but one lonely house — my bike chain falls off. I’m a girl with two left hands and I have no know-how on bike repairs whatsoever.

I try to call my work to tell them I’m going to be late, but no one answers the phone, because it’s 5:00 am. Afraid of losing my job and being stranded in the middle of nowhere, I kind of start to panic.

In the distance, I see two men on bikes approaching, both wearing uniforms from some nearby factory. I stop them and ask for their help. They first look a bit bewildered, probably wondering what a young girl like me is doing there so early, and why I’m so upset. Truth is, this job has been a much-needed lucky break within a long period of bad luck, so yes, I’m nervous, panicking, upset, and crying. I start crying even more out of gratitude when the guys agree to help and patiently take a look at my bike. The chain is fixed in no time and I’m beyond relieved, though I have less than 15 minutes now to get to work.

In tears, I tell the men, “Thank you so much! I usually don’t do things like this, but you totally made my day. Can… can I give you a hug?”

One of them replies, “Uhm… sure…?”

I do so, and we go our own ways. I race like I’ve never raced before, and I end up being only two minutes late to work. Unfortunately, it turns out to one be a one-day job, but those two angels on the road that helped me out of a tight spot at the ridiculous crack of dawn, I will never forget!

Trouble Brewing

, , , , , , , | Related | October 28, 2017

We lived about four blocks from our elementary school. Our cousins lived about half a block from us. We all would walk home together after school. One day, we came across an unopened beer can on the dirt road shortcut and decided to play kick-the-can the rest of the way home.

About two houses away from our cousins’ home, the can hit a rock and began spraying all five of us.

We had to explain to both mothers what happened. At least they were able to laugh about our stupidity, so we didn’t get into trouble for coming home smelling like a brewery… that time!

Really Hates Green

, , , , | Romantic | October 26, 2017

(My husband and I have had some really stressful months this year and we are really at the end of our mental and emotional resources. We recently had a big fight, which mostly had to do with us both being stressed, and now we are having a relaxing day to get away from it. We are stopped at a red light, and we start to discuss a chest of drawers we want to get. When discussed before, the idea of getting a lime green one came up, but now my husband is mentioning a beige one.)

Me: “Yeah, but I really liked the idea of the green one. What do you think of the green?”

Husband: “No. NO!” *wagging his finger at me* “I said, ‘NO!’ I SAID, ‘NO!’”

(At this point I was literally thinking, “Okay, he’s completely gone crazy.” Then I realized that a windscreen washer was standing outside my window and my husband was yelling at him.)

How Wude!

, , , , , | Friendly | October 12, 2017

(In our neighborhood lives a mockingbird who used to drive me crazy. I can only tolerate him now because he learned a new phrase from some kids playing Star Wars:)

Mockingbird: “Jar Jar BINKS! Jar Jar BINKS! Pew! Pew! Pew!”

(Imagining Jar Jar being shot is satisfying in itself. Add in the amusement factor of a literal birdbrain understanding how very irritating Jar Jar is, and it makes me smile every time.)

Surfing Through Some Wonderful Encounters

, , , , , | Hopeless | September 6, 2017

Years ago, my dad and brother went to Mexico. One day, they were in the nearest town for supplies when my dad ran into a woman in the grocery store who gave him a recommendation on mango juice. They chatted for a bit, then said their goodbyes. Later, they were in the parking lot, and the woman walked by. She noticed his license plate, and they discovered that they were from the same area of islands in Canada, though she had been living in Mexico for several years. So they exchanged contact information, and my family returned to camp.

A couple weeks later, my brother was surfing on his short-board. During a wipeout, his board went between his legs, and the fin sliced his calf rather deeply. Someone in camp bandaged his leg, while another fetched Dad from out in the water. Dad threw his mattress into the back of the truck, loaded up my brother, and drove to Guerrero Negro as fast as he could (which couldn’t have been at all pleasant for my brother, considering it’s a one- to two-hour trip, 30 minutes of which on a very bumpy dirt road).

Eventually they reached town and got him to a doctor, at which point Dad called the woman he’d met at the store to help him with translating. When she arrived, all the work had been done, and Dad wasn’t sure what to do about payment. He had her ask about it, and according to her, the doctor laughed and asked, “We charge for this?”

Afterwards, my dad returned to camp while my brother stayed with the woman and her family, since it seemed cruel to have him lying on the beach, watching everyone else in the water, doing what he couldn’t. He was with them for a month, and made good friends with the daughter, who was about our age.

Dad stayed in touch with them over the years, and a decade later, I went down with him and got to meet them. When I mentioned the story to the daughter, she was really surprised about how it happened. Apparently, my brother told her he was attacked by a shark, and she believed it right up until I told her otherwise.

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