gmastasquirrel.com

[ad#ad-1]

Labor day weekend! 3 free days to whatever you desire. Nothing could go wrong right? Wrong. When something can go wrong, it will. A friends car broke down at a local eatery. Time to help. Let it be known, I am about as good with cars as an elephant is good with a Segway. Was it the tire? Was it the axle? If it was the flux capacitor not having enough power to reach 1.21 gigawats, I’d be asking you “What the hell is a gigawat.” Clearly, I know nothing about automobiles.

What I did know was our location was a very bad location. The car was parked in ghetto-esque area. The eatery that they were at was located near a park where druggies, drug dealers, and homeless crazy people hang out in. It was not a place to be around when the sun went down.

Several folks came by and asked if we needed any help. Most looked down right creepy. They walked around the park in dirty looking clothes and idiosyncrasies of your typical crack addict. Just imagine the zombies surrounding Michael Jackson and his lady friend in music video “Thriller.” Yes that creepy. But then 3  creepy strangers approached us.

2 women and a man to be exact. One of the women who spoke with a terits like tick asked if we needed help and that her boyfriend (The man with them) could assist. The girl with the car trouble said “Yes” while my inner monolouge said “No way Jose!” We didn’t know them. I didn’t feel safe with them. They looked like drug addicts. He quickly dove underneath the car. A few minutes later, the man rose to his feet. He explained to us that the such and such part was broken and we needed a new one. We asked if it could be driven, he said no. What now? It’s labor day! Every place is closed. The man told us the junk yard might be open and that they will have that part. The skinnier of two ladies grabbed her phone AND CALLED THE JUNK YARD FOR US. The junk yard said that they were open and to come down to look for the part. Before she hung up, she gave the phone to the creepy guy who will now be known as MR. NICE GUY. Mr. Nice Guy asked to speak to Harry. He then explained the situation and that we needed the such and such part. When he got off the phone, he told me what part to get and who to speak to. He said he would wait for us and put it back in for us. He found the issue, he made some calls, AND he would replace it for us. This guy didn’t know us, but he was willing to take time out of his holiday in the park to help a couple strangers. For that, I thank them so much. My judgement on them was wrong. But there’s more.

AT THE JUNK YARD. We met up with the man known as Harry. Right off the bat, I think this guy is bad news. He points us to a few cars and then walks away. We go to the car and proceed to stare at the piece of junk like the checkered sweater you DID NOT ask for on Christmas day. As we stare we come to a few realizations:

• We are supposed to bring our own tools.
• We are supposed to take out the part ourselves.
• We couldn’t do any of the above.

Harry notice our situation and directed us to a guy named Jon. This guy looked more ghetto than the last 4 people we met combined. His dirty hand transformed into a fist as he wanted to bump his fist with mine. DAP! We explained the situation to him and showed him the broken part. Then the weirdest thing happened. Jon reaches his dirty hands into a desk and pulls out a book. He then puts on his glasses. This guy is an educated man! He proceeds to tell us what cars he has that could possibly be a match. Jon speaks as if this was an auto tech class and he was the professor. He spoke well and in a manner that it was easy to understand. Unfortuantly the part was not available at the junk yard. As we sulked and kicked a few rocks, he said that he would our broken part welded back into place. We spent roughly 2 and a half hours at the junk yard. Jon felt bad for the wait that he wasn’t going to charge us. These guys help us out and they are feeling bad? They didn’t know us. They didn’t need to help us. Once again, my judgement was wrong. Our part was welded back into shape. We thanked them for all there efforts. They once again apologized. We thanked them again and left on our way.

When we got back, the man and the girlfriend were there waiting. Mr. Nice Guy looked at the part, got on his knees and put into place. He then put everything back together. We tested the car. It was good to go. We gave them some money for the time and effort. They said they didn’t do it for the money. We gave it to them anyway. Mr. Nice Guy said that if anything went wrong with the repair that we should give him a call and he would fix it.

5 strangers, all of them I THOUGHT was creepy. 5 strangers, all of them were FAR from creepy. They were some of the nicest people I have ever met. They helped us and wanted nothing in return. They helped us out while I stood idle and judged them by there mannerisms and appearances. The only creep in this story was me. It was a lesson learned. A lesson that I will never forget. Judge lest be judged.

Do you have a story like this? I would love to hear it. Comments as usual are always welcomed.