I was sitting in the parking lot of a largely disused military base that has seen its better years. We had left a vehicle overnight there.
We opened a door to the passenger side door and a mouse was sitting in the footwell. It was mildly cool the following night. The mouse was shivering and we shoved him into a warmer area in the parking lot to warm up.
Someone might have said “this might be the worst day of his life”. The mouse didnt seem to recover.
I had thought of my strange story comparable to my worst day.
It was 2001, during one of the Florida’s perpetual summers. I had decided to hit the road on “Bethany”, one of the most cursed Harley Davidsons ever made. I made it to one of my favorite expressways and subsequently hit my brake in a panic. I aimed for a patch of sand and ditched, doing a flying angel maneuver out of a cheesy movie. I got the wind knocked out of me, a little bloody.
I flag down a guy on his way to the stadium. I borrow his phone, (mine was at a friend’s apt) and call my friends for a ride. I got a wrecker too.
I walked down the road to flag down my friends. I make it a half a mile down the road and a dog jumps out of a pickup truck going 45 mph.
The dog attempted to run after the truck. I tackled the dog to prevent it from getting hit. Subsequently the scared dog pisses all over me. The owner whips around and asked if I was alright, noting my bloody clothes. He had asked if I was okay, I told him the truth:
I had got in a wreck before his dog jumped. He had mentioned that it seemed like I was having a horrific day.
I got picked up and tried to repair my day. I enjoyed some booze and humor.
My lesson to this blog’s readers:
No matter what you are feeling, your worst day will end.