That Person

Last Wednesday, I became That Person, at least for 20 minutes or so. I was driving to work, northbound on 99, when my car stalled out. The car was in the process of dying, although the stalling really shouldn't have been related to that. I got it going, once, then twice. The third time it stalled, just after I'd left the Battery Street Tunnel, but before I was passed the concrete wall that separated my lane with the non-99 world, I couldn't get it started. And the more I tried, the less it was wanting to start.

I called AAA and was told it could be up to 60 minutes. When the cop came, he thought that was too long (yeah, I'm blocking 1/2 of 99 northbound just after 9AM), he called a different company that came backing down the ramp to me.

I never wanted to be That Person, broken down, blocking traffic, but there I was. Only one driver, some guy in a Lexus, yelled out "asshole" at me (ironically, I've always thought that when I saw a Lexus driver).

After that, I put my car down. It was its time, even if I wasn't quite ready for it. Even when you know it is coming, it is always hard to let go of big parts of your life. I had my car, a silver 1984 Saab 900 Turbo, for 14 years.

I feel oddly helpless without a car. But, even when you find yourself being That Person, you're never truly helpless. At least, as long as you are willing to deal with the situation at hand.