Sidenote. I know this is long, but I promise it's worth it.Oh what a day, what a day, I had yesterday. It began with one of those mornings when you wake up in a crummy mood and you just know that from there on out, nothing is going to go right. Beginning with not having anything to wear due to my laziness to do my laundry, I finally managed to put something together. Leaving the house, already unconfident with my appearance and lack of "Hussiness" thereof, I entered "the truck," and departed for a anticipated "sitting" in 405 traffic. Three hours pass, my life is that much shorter. I have accomplished nothing as a human being in these three hours, other than depleting the ozone layer, creating frustration for the masses and encouraging voyerism.
1.5 hours into my travels, I come to a screeching halt. Is this normal to this location on the freeway? I am unaware as to the flow of traffic, as I have fortunately managed to avoid the foreign, breathing, snarling monster that is "L.A." No, a screeching halt across all four lanes is not "normal" for this exact point in my journey. Rather a nicely dressed man is assisting a woman whose car seems to have stopped in the middle of the freeway. He is pushing on the back of her average looking car, donning slacks, a button-up collared shirt and a tie. He pushes her forward 25 yards from where he car is parked in the middle, of what I believe to be,
one of the busiest freeways in the world. He looks back timidly. He is debating when to stop pushing her car. He looks forward and continues to push. He looks back again. He is now 50 yards from where he car is parked.
Cars are picking up speed around him as he increases the distance of the disturbance. Her car starts. He waves her off and briskly jogs back to his car.
Why was she stopped in the middle of the freeway in a car that had potential to start? Why did she not turn the wheel, cross two already stopped lanes and attempt to start her car out of harms way? Why is she now continuing down the freeway on her cell phone acting as if nothing happened, when she should be pulling off at the nearest exit and attempting to solve an on going occurrence? Why am I asking myself so many theoretical questions? I don't know. I drive on.
I am in Beverly Hills. "Cruising" down Santa Monica Blvd. Neck craned in order to spot any notorious
celebrities. I park "the truck" in a residential area, next to my first stop, grab my samples, remove my key from my key ring of many and trudge forward to my first destination, unscathed from my long, arduous journey behind me. I march down the street, showing "L.A." I mean business. You don't scare me L.A. You and all your gorgeous celebrities and
cool scenes. You and your selective clubs and V.I.P. rooms and... and... and... your money, and your... your... music and stuff. You won't get me down.
I pause in my moment of triumph, only to realize that I took the wrong key off my key ring before locking the door. I have in my possession the key to my apartment, three hours away. Consequently,
without the key to the car, a cell phone, lip gloss, or any other necessity. My heart races, my mouth goes dry, my knees buckle, the blood rushes away from my face.
"Fuck" is all I am able to express at that moment. I turn around and head back to the useless automobile. I must admit that this is not the first time I have managed to lock my keys in the car. It is the second. Also, it is important to include that neither time have been during a "rush," but moreso an instance of weak judgment, lack of attention, a moment of great mind-wandering.
I have two options, well three. 1) Head into my first sales stop, explain my situation and use their phone. Exemplifying the lack of responsibility and intelligence of their sales representative. 2) Ask the decent looking young man in his car, parked across the street from me, for help, assistance, guidance or a beer. 3) Breakdown and cry, attempting to alleviate, solve, fix and dilute the situation with saline. I chose option 2. Given my background with problem solving and hate of the "Damsel in Distress" siren, I decided to ask for help, but not appear to be weak, impressionable or vulnerable during that moment.
"Hi, my name is Wanton Hussy and I locked my keys in my car. May I please use your cell phone to call.... umm....."
Who should I call? "Call my roommate."
"Hi, Wanton Hussy. My name is Chance. That sucks about your keys. Sure you can use my cell phone."
"Thank you so much. I am really out of my element here. Being in L.A. and all..." I trail off. I have a tendency of opening up very heavy, complex material that makes me who I am within minutes, at most days, of meeting a new individual. Flaw or bonus, I haven't decided.
"Elusive roommate, it's Wanton Hussy. I locked my keys in my car and I'm in West Hollywood. Nevermind, I'll try to figure it out." I neglected to leave the phone number of Chance, as even though I managed to admit to the stranger that me being in L.A. is out of my element, I found myself having a difficult time asking him for his phone number within the first few minutes of our meeting.
"I don't know what to do." I admit to the stranger.
"Well, we could call a locksmith. I locked my keys in my car and they opened it for $30. It was right in front of their shop, but it's worth a shot. Or you could go to that hardware store you were headed and ask if they have a slim jim." Chance is my angel in disguise. I managed to fill him in as to my job and such during our early conversation which is how he knew to offer the advice for the slim jim.
"Let me go get a phone book from my house and we'll get some quotes." He offers. I start to follow him and stop. "Wait where are we going?" I politely inquire. "My house. I live on the corner, unless you just want to stay here." He senses my hesitation. "Yeah, I'll just do that."
Smart move Hussy. All those newspaper clippings your mom left on your pillow about abductions and rapes really paid off. He comes back momentarily, phone book in tow. "Thank you so much for all your help Chance. I would be in big trouble if you weren't here."
"Don't mention it." He proceeds to call THREE locksmith companies, comparing numbers. "$65, okay thank you... $80, okay thank you... $130, that's pretty outrageous, but thanks anyways. Sometimes you have to let them know they are out of line." Chance is a man after my own heart.
"So what do you want to do?" He concludes. "Slim Jim or have someone come out."
"Umm....." I'm thinking. I am thinking quickly, logically, systematically. "You know what. I would rather just eat the $65 and have it be over with."
Cliffnote Version: Chance leaves me with his phone and phone book to meet the electrician and his friends that have just arrived. Locksmith arrives and begins working on lock. Chance emerges from his house, 100 yards away, stands in the middle of the street and gives what appears to be a thumbs up or an "A-Okay" sign. I signal back. Locksmith opens truck. I pay "the man." Chance reappears.
I had already decided I wanted to offer Chance a monetary token for his good deeds. Bettering
chances of good deeds committed in the future, thus creating a "Good deed train," in hopes of benefiting mankind. Chance ask how everything went, I reply "great," we shake hands and I quickly hand over the $20 bill I had folded up, in order not to make a big deal over the exchange, and I
loathe talking about money. I respond with "this is for your trouble and your cell phone and your time and your generosity." He politely refuses to which I try again, not so aggressively as to not insult the boy, but to let him know that I really do want to give him this money. He again refuses.
"Well, at least let me give you my email address so then when I am over in Europe next year we could maybe meet up." This is not a complete off the wall notion as we had managed to discuss traveling abroad, his quickly emerging career in the art of "D.J.-ing" and the like. "Yeah, that would be great." He might have been humoring me, we'll see. I give him my email, shake hands again and travel our separate ways. Never to forget that fateful day when misfortune crossed my path, only to have Chance step in and save the day.
