In March of 2007, I was forced to stop my car during morning rush hour, blocking the entrance to Tulsa Highway 169. I only wished at that moment that I had a better reason for doing so besides running out of gas. It didn’t help either that I had developed a pride issue during that period of time. A semester before, I had made some stupid decisions that flunked me out of Oklahoma State University and, though they didn't say so, my parents were viewing me as a screw-up. Because of that, anytime I messed up, which apparently was often, I was determined to fix it without help.
So I couldn’t call Mom. I couldn’t call my stepdad’s mom because Mom would find out. So I decided to call the police. The first time I called, I was given a non-emergency number to call. What? Me blocking traffic wasn’t an emergency? I called the emergency number and was very rudely told that it might be a couple of hours before they could send an officer to help me. Great!
I kept trying to stay positive but it wasn’t easy. By the time I hung up my cell phone, cars behind me were honking, desperately trying to merge left to pass by. No gentlemen, huh? Forgetting how to turn on the emergency lights, I popped up the front hood to try to prevent some people from honking. Thirty minutes passed. I called in at Victoria’s Secret, one of two jobs I had at the time, and pretended I was too sick to come in. Forty-five minutes passed. I almost caved in and called Mother, when something happened to change my mind.
[[[According to Mom, at this point in the story, I was walking the half-mile to Quiktrip to get gas to take back. That’s a complete lie. Again, forty-five minutes passed and I almost decided to call her when]]] I heard a man shouting and asking if I needed help. I turned around to see a middle-aged African-American man exiting a late ‘80s, green, beat-up Astrovan. The rear door slid open to reveal another middle-aged African American man. They offered to take me to a gas station. I at first said no because I had already called the police and didn’t want to miss them, but then changed my mind because it was only a half a mile away.
Article comments
1 - Joanne Huspek
I hope you learned your lesson. (Which is "NEVER GO BELOW HALF.")
My daughter made a similar error with a parking ticket. What should have cost $77 ended up being a $400 mistake just because she didn't want to call her mother. Silly girl.
2 - Mom
Thank God that sometimes ignorance is bliss. I never knew about her getting into the van with two guys before reading this. Since she kind of lectured herself, I didn't, but OMG!!!
Parents can learn from this also. (Like I did.) Tell them to call you and you will come - no questions asked and no lectures given. Safety is always more important than pride.