Men of the Greater Cincinnati Metropolitan Area

You will all be excited to hear that I met some men this evening. Men that I don't work with. Men in the real world. Kentucky men. And, I think, some Ohio men.

It all started when I left my cell phone at home this morning. The day progressed as normal, and I attended the first regular rehearsal of the May Festival Chorus, where they all treat me like they've known me forever.

This is not where I met the men.

After rehearsal, I was driving home (having taken the "scenic route" to the highway) and crossing one of the many bridges from Ohio to Kentucky when I noticed a truck in front of me having some troubles. It seemed to be dragging its muffler. It slowed down, as did I, and as the muffler fell off, the truck pulled to the side of the bridge, and I very elegantly ran over said muffler.

Having successfully maneuvered the situation, and facing no more obstacles, I proceeded.

Then I noticed my car was behaving a little "off", and I went over a ridge in the road and it was definitely more pronounced than it should have been. It was then that I also noticed that my passenger side was possibly a bit lower than the driver side. I pulled to the side of the road, off the end of an on-ramp, between some orange traffic barrels, and turned on my hazards. I found that both of my passenger-side tires were flat, flat, flat. It was dark. It was late. I only carry one spare tire anyway. My car is new, and came with road-side assistance, but as you may recall, my cell phone was on my kitchen counter.

Because I am an old lady, I remembered that to signal a need for help you should open your trunk and hood, so I did. I thought someone would call the police, and they would come and call a tow-truck for me.

This is not where I met the men.

I sat in my car, by the side of the road, with my hood and trunk open, knitting of course, because what else was I going to do? I sat there for forty-five minutes. Apparently I'm the only one who remembered that opening your hood and trunk means "call for help". As I sat and waited for the police to come I thought about how many times someone could have turned around and come back, taken my wallet and gone to Best Buy before someone came to help me.

Now I meet some men. A truck pulled up behind me, and a young man got out and came around to the passenger side to offer help. I only needed a cell phone, which he had thankfully not left on his kitchen counter. He had another man with him, both of whom stood around and checked out my car ("These tires look almost new!" "Why does she have her trunk open?") while I waited for the man at roadside assistance to find someone to come pick me up. They were very supportive and helpful, and turned out to be father and son, and I assured them that they could go and I would be fine waiting for the tow truck myself. Dad made sure I promised to roll up the windows and lock the doors until then; he seemed genuinely concerned. They drove off, and I settled in for a long stretch with my "traffic sock". I was told the tow truck operator would be there as soon as he was done with whoever he was towing at the moment, but it could be a bit.

Not five minutes later I got to meet the tow truck operator, who was, coincidentally, a man. I helped him to get my car up on the truck, and when I got in the cab, I met another man. Young, but adult none-the-less. They commiserated with me on my poor fortune, and kindly gave me a lift home after dropping off my car at the Ford dealer, which is where they will take your car when you have Ford Roadside Assistance.

I have no idea what will happen tomorrow. I highly doubt the Ford dealer will be a good choice for new tires, but if I need new rims, too, who knows? I certainly don't. I couldn't see in the dark what shape the tires were in. Perhaps I could temporarily inflate one of them with Fix-a-Flat, and put the donut on the other, and limp it to a tire store.

I've already called my boss and left a voicemail message that I won't be in immediately in the morning, and it's too late to call anyone to tell them about it, so here I am blogging to you about it. I'm going to go try to sleep, now that it's out of my system.

Maybe I'll meet more men tomorrow. Oh joy.