I’m Not A

October 16, 2009 at 4:56 PM | Posted in Journal | Leave a comment
  Good Samaritan.
  (This was actually October 9th)
  I had just come back to my desk after putting out a fire somewhere…or maybe I was just off fucking around.  Not alot of difference here in the office.  Debra says, "Hey, Bryan, are you busy?"
  I’m sure it’s a trick question.  "Well, I’m *always* busy."
  Meanwhile, I’ve come to embrace the lack of train of thought that I have.  I get to the point, just hang in there.  The line between Good Samaritan and sexual predator is much finer than I originally thought.
  You can’t ask how old someone’s daughter is without sounding like a pervert, did you know that?
  It was raining sometime last week and her daughter had just stopped by to pick something up from her, and as she was leaving she had a flat tire.  So there she was, out on the street in front of the office, in the rain, with a flat.
  I sighed.  Yeah, I’ll help.
  I don’t even remember the daughter’s name, or if I even heard it.  She is a cute little black girl.  I know she has a baby, so she has to be at least…13 or 14.  Dangerous.
  But she is driving, too, so she is at least…16 or 17.  Aye, Carumba.  Oh well.
  I grabbed a cardboard box and went out to help.  She had the jack out and was getting the spare out.  She was working on it herself.  Aw, that’s sweet.  Not only was the tire flat, but the rim had a big-ass dent in it, right at the seam of the tire.  Obviously, she had hit something like a curb and bent the rim and that’s why she had a flat.
  I took the jack and repositioned it, and took the tire tool and loosened the nuts.  As I was doing that I asked her, "Is the parking brake on?"
  She said yes.  Good.  This is the front tire of a front wheel drive car and we’re on a hill.  The parking brake stops the back wheels, so that is important.  After I loosen the nuts a bit, I start to jack up the car with the cheap little scissor jack.  The tire starts to come up and then…
  The car rolls back, the jack slips out, the car goes down.  Real fucking funny.  She checked the e-brake again, and I went to the other side of the street and grabbed a couple of big rocks from the landscaping. and used them to block the wheels.  Let’s try it again.
  I had to step on the side of the jack to straighten it out, and then put it under the car and started again.  The little girl took a turn at turning it, too.  That was good because it was a lot of long, slow cranking to get it up.  Finally, it was high enough to take off the tire.  The spare went on quickly, and I put on the nuts.
  I’ve changed many tires.  Very many.  The nuts went on quickly and I got them hand-tight, then dropped the car and used the tool.  We put everything back, like the rocks from the landscaping, and I told her, "You may or may not need a tire; that one looks pretty good.  But you are definitely going to need a rim, because that can’t be fixed to hold a seal anymore."  She nodded and understood.
  The spare was low on air, of course.  She was going to take it easy to the next block where there was a gas station, and get some air in it.  She was on her way.
  Back inside, I hung up my wet coat and tossed the wet piece of cardboard, then washed my hands and brushed my dirty knees off.  When I spoke to Josh later he mentioned it.  "How did you know?"
  "They called me and asked me first, but I wasn’t at my desk."  He said it’s raining out and cold, they need to call AAA because he’s not going out there. 
  I said, "That’s one of the many reasons why I’m a better person than you."  But only barely.
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