When it rains...

Actually, it wasn't raining when this happened... at least not literally. It was certainly raining metaphorically.

Last night, while driving home from work, I ran out of gas. Not a big deal if you're a normal person with a normal job who works normal hours. Unfortaunately, I am none of the above.

So, it's about midnight, and I'm driving through a bad neighborhood. Actually, let me define "bad." If I had run out of gas in this neighborhood during daylight hours, I would have walked to the nearby gas station. However, it was midnight. And as my co-worker Randy says, this neighborhood is reminiscent of a slightly scuzzy kitchen. It looks a little yucky when it's bright and well-light. When you shut out the light, the cockroaches start scrambling around nervously. This neighborhood is kind of the same way.

I call Cory, who hops in his truck to come pick me up. He's about 20 minutes away. I wait in my car. Cory arrives, attempts to rescue me...

...and his truck dies.
In the ghetto.
It might be the battery. Or the alternator. Or one of a million other things.

Either way, we're now with two broken-down cars in a scary neighborhood. Good times.

Anyway, Randy came to our rescue-- the street where we both broke down was also on his way home from work. Thank goodness!