Yesterday was exciting.
I ran on the stair master for about 70 minutes, clocking in 6 miles. I went into CVS to get a power bar, which I enjoyed. As I walked home, I saw a car stuck at the crosswalk with his blinkers on, and liquid gushing out of the front-bottom of his car.
I immediately freaked out that it was gasoline.
I ran away like I was in an action movie, and then fell and scraped my knee in front of the library. I hopped on the bus, but suddenly noticed my wallet was empty. I got scared that maybe I spilled its contents out when I fell.
Fearfully, I went back to the library to check if my stuff was still there, now again near the car. But when I checked, nothing was there, and then I suddenly remembered that I emptied my wallet out that morning. But now being in the vicinity of the car again, I smelled a strong odor of “gas.”
I ran away again and called my mother. Then she said I should call 911. I did so, and reported that this car was sitting there with gas leaking out, now for 15 minutes. I was running as I spoke on the phone.
A minute later, I could hear fire trucks in the distance. Slowly, I walked back towards the scene. When arriving, I saw about ten firefighters loitering about, with some sand on the road. The busted car was now moved off to the side, and an inept teenager stood near the place. I approached him.
“I made the call.”
He likely had no roadside insurance. It appeared as if he was waiting for something to fall from the sky and help him. And so I did.
I approached the firefighters.
“Yeah, it was antifreeze. We threw some sand on it so the cars won’t slip. We called a pickup truck.”
I felt insecure that I was a tool.
“Did I do the wrong thing???”
“No, not at all. You did the right thing.”
Indeed. I arrived at home with a scraped knee, which I bandaged. Then I watched Star Wars VII with my mother.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!
And to all, a good night.