A. and I went out last night*.
I KNOW. CRAZY. But that's not the story.
We were on our way home from the Small City about 9 o'clock, only about a quarter mile from our house, when I saw a van parked at the end of the gravel road I used to run on. Its hood was up and its hazard lights were flashing, so I told A. we should stop. It was blowing snow and freezing cold--no kind of night to be broken down.
Besides, we were in the truck and A.'s a guy, so he is, by definition, a GiT. And GiTs have a code of conduct that requires them to stop and help motorists in distress. Like AAA, only with rusty pick-ups and feed caps.
I fully expected to get to the van and find that the driver had already called a tow truck and was just waiting for it. Instead we found a middle-aged lady by herself with no cell phone. She had driven about 75 miles from a not-very-close city and gotten lost on her way to a friend's Christmas party. When she stopped to check her directions, her transmission failed completely. So she was sitting in the dark by herself in a broken-down van. In a snowstorm. On a dark gravel road with no idea where she was.
That's pretty much my nightmare.
She showed A. the directions she had to her friend's house. Turned out she was almost there, so she jammed herself in the cab of the truck with us and we drove her to her friend's house. She was, to put it mildly, exceedingly grateful. She invited us in to the party, but we declined with a tip of our feed caps and drove our pick-up off into the sunset.
Figuratively speaking, of course.
* To dinner, Home Depot, and the grocery store, because we know how to LIVE IT UP.