The plan for today was to go to work, come home around 7:15pm and give out candy to trick-or-treaters, and then take my mom to dinner for her birthday with my brother.
I went to work and finished at about 6:15pm. I got into my car and was ready to go home. I pulled out of the parking lot. The car was struggling to back up. I parked a few spaces away and got out to see what was going on. I had a flat tire. I don't think there's any correlation between being Jewish and not knowing how to change a flat tire, but it's a good indication of one's ability to do so.
I called AAA and they said they'd send somebody out to help me. I was in Haymarket, Virginia. They may claim that they're only a few miles outside of Washington D.C., but to me, it's the middle of nowhere. I called at 7pm to ask when was the estimated arrival time of the tow truck, because they never called back to tell me. The guy said 7:30.
It was getting colder and I really had to pee. The trick-or-treaters were out in full force, having fun, rubbing it in my face. I had three options: 1) Go back to my student's house, tell them what happened, and ask to use their bathroom. But that involved human contact, so that wasn't on the radar. 2) Pee behind a small structure that held the streets mailboxes. Normally that would be fine, but there was a lot of people because it was Halloween and for some reason there was a house jutting out and facing that spot. Plus, if I got caught, I'd get fired and possibly be labeled as a sex offender because there were so many kids outside. 3) Take my chances and maybe pee in my pants. Number 3 looked like the best option until I finally just peed behind the mailboxes.
It was 8:30 by now. I heard the song Sweet Home Alabama blasting from somewhere. That song sounds a little different to me. I hear it, "Sweeeeet home Al-a-bama. You're not welcome here, Jew." I was still pacing around, fairly cold. I had nothing to read. I hadn't eaten a meal all day.
Twenty minutes later I got a phone call. It was the tow truck company, "The guard won't let us into the community. You have to do something." The problem was I didn't live there. I got in my car and drove on the flat tire until I could see the gate. Then I ran to the gate. Out of breath I tapped on the guard's door. This guard had given me a dirty look every time I came to the there. The first time I came to this community I had my other student in the car and the guard didn't believe that I was a tutor and this was my previous student and I was on my way to my next student. I could understand why he didn't believe me. I look like I might be in high school just like my other student.
I explained to the guard what happened while panting from being out of breath. He asked me, "Why didn't you call in?" I replied, "I don't live here!" The driver was let in and he put on a spare.
Then I drove all the way home from Haymarket on the spare, going 40 mph the whole way. If you're ever driven on the highways around DC when it's actually not rush hour, you know people don't appreciate someone going 40mph. I usually go 80.
I got home at 10:30pm. I totally missed dinner with my mom, but my brother took her out. At least she brought me back some food for my first meal of the day. The moral is: Don't be friends with me, I'm bad luck.
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