There I was, all cute and little in my washable silk black pants and purple blouse...four inch heals of course too. On my way home from work. Took the turn by the lumber yard. Right on the curve: I get a flat tire. As I walk around the side of the car, remember no cell phone, I assess the situation and get to work changing the tire...I know for sure, I won't be at it for long. I am in front of a lumber yard for crying out loud. Surely some one will come to my aid...NOT EVEN THE COP who drove PAST me stopped to help. Honestly, what hope do we have out there when the cute, little size two girl can't get help changing her tire in front of a lumber yard?
Come back to the present: in Poughkeepsie, on a warm June day. As Providence would have it a sainted woman stopped to tell me I had a flat tire. No longer a cute, little thing, I called that man I nabbed so long ago when I was a cute little thing. Just wanted to let him know I was on it. By the way, where is the tire? Why is it under the car? Do I have any tools to change this thing? Sigh. Yeah, I was on it. Hey look! A tire inflater thingy! I knew it is called a compressor, give me a break. Anyway, I hooked that bad boy up, inflated the tire and was about to drive away...that was when I saw it, mocking me. Reminding me that some things may not change:
The H-E-L-P truck that "helps" motorists in distress was parked not a hundred feet from me. Seriously, did this middle aged, not so much a size two, cute little thing (but almost 20 pounds littler than she was a few weeks ago) not look like a distressed motorist? SERIOUSLY?
With a huff I quickly drove to the nearest gas station, not to be mistaken for a service station. Nope no one there could change my tire...but there is an auto body shop in the back. Maybe they could help? I walked around back as the air I had just put into my tire escaped and left me with my deflated tire once again.
I walked into the shop:
"Can I help you?" asked the man at the desk without looking up.
"I am playing damsel in distress. I have a flat tire. Was wondering if anyone could help me out?"
"Sure."
In just minutes Schwartz Auto Body had my tire repaired. When I asked how much I owed him, he told me nothing and to just be safe "out there." Yes, the Schwartz was with me for sure! Restored my hope in my fellow man on that warm June day: Chivalry is not dead dear ones, just in a coma!
I know it's a twist on the psalms, but truly, some hope in chariots, some hope in horses, some hope in the
H-E-L-P truck, but I will trust the Lord, 'cause He got me home with the help of the Schwartz!
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