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I went to the video store earlier tonight to drop off In Bruges (which was not as terrible of a film as everyone else made it out to be). There was a fine rain and my back ached from yoga practice earlier in the day so I decided to drive instead of biking to the shopping center. The trip was uneventful. I dropped off the video. I stopped at the Whole Foods next door and purchased a growler of Carolina Ale and three tomatoes. That was enough of an outing for the time being, so I got in the car and headed home.

I made a rather uneventful left turn out of the shopping center’s parking lot and then this rather large blond middle aged woman in a low cut blue shirt jumped out in front my car. She was completely freaked out. I hit the breaks — I thought I ran over her cat or worst and rolled down the window to see what was wrong.

“I just had three back surgeries and I need to go to the hospital. I really need a ride. Can you help?” she asked erratically. One side of my heart said that I should help out this woman in need and the other side said that it liked being alive and would like to continue beating. Before I could think she was already on the passenger side and I was unlocking the door.

And we were off. I stopped short at the next stop sign and squealed out haphazardly onto 9th Street cutting off another car. She told me she was going to her sister’s house rather than the hospital. I remembered this story and didn’t much care for it. She was getting out of my car as soon as fucking possible.

When we were stopped by a red light at 9th & Main Street, just before the railroad tracks, she started asking for money for a cab ride later and talked about selling the crystal crucifix around her neck to me for money. I told her I was a poor student with no money and my car stalled out (which it often does) as my eyes kept glancing at her hands and purse. After a few nervous key turns I got it started and we were headed to the hospital. She asked me if that happened often and I told her it happened at every light. If this was the nefarious outing in an attempt to obtain an escort wagon that I was imagining that crisis was averted.

We soon passed the hospital and of I kept asking her if I could drop her off here and here and here – where the streetlights were. She was insistent on her sister’s house and asked me to turn into a very dimly lit neighborhood across from the hospital. We drove about two blocks and she said the spot was fine. So she got out, I forgot to ask for hack money and turned around and went home.