Last night, I almost died.
Calm down - I don't mean physically. I wasn't in any danger...probably. No, I mean that I came perilously close to leaving my identity behind.
Let me set the scene: I spent the evening at a little party at a friend's apartment about 45 minutes from my home. We had a fantastic time talking, eating, and playing party games. The party wrapped up just before midnight, and we said our farewells and set out into the night. My car was parked the furthest away, so everyone else drove off before I reached my car.
I approached my ride, and I was stricken by a sinking feeling. I unlocked my door, and my fears were confirmed -- the interior lights failed to come on. I lowered my eyes to the headlight switch, and there it was: I had left my lights on.
I love my car; it's great. A 2003 Honda Civic, it cost me $5,000 and has taken me 50,000 miles (to a total of 100,000) without giving me a single problem. It's a tremendous value. Except...the lights don't turn off automatically. If I leave them on, they stay on, and the battery dies. It's a challenge.
Usually (about 3-4 times a year) that happens at work, but I'm lucky that the Public Safety department there has a car jumping service for staff. This time, though, I wasn't at work.
Oh, and my phone's battery had died, too.
I stared at my phone for a few minutes. I had no idea what to do in this situation. Then I walked back to my friend's apartment to ask for a jump...but the apartment building was closed down. And I didn't know her apartment number to buzz up. And I didn't know which floor she lived on.
And, it turned out, she had left immediately after I had to head into the city. But I didn't know that, so I spent a few minutes fruitlessly shouting up at her window. Her neighbors were not pleased.
I weighed my options. I couldn't just borrow somebody's phone to call a friend - it's not like I know anybody's number. The only number I know is the wife's! The rest of them, my phone remembers, when it's alive!
I could call the wife, but she was in another state last night, and it seemed ridiculous to bug her without exhausting my other options.
There were a few bars nearby, but they were enveloped with raucous shouting, which you should know is anathema to me. I could no more approach them for help than I could feel sympathy for a starving manatee.
Just then, a police car drove past me. I waved my arms, but it didn't notice me. It was gone in a second, but following its path, my eyes fell upon a glowing tan-and-red Mecca in the darkness: WaWa. Where else would police officers hang out in the middle of the night?
And I was right! I walked over and found a K-9 unit parked outside the WaWa. He was showing off his dog, so I didn't want to bug him, but eventually he came over to see why the sad-looking weirdo was ogling his car.
I explained my situation, but he revealed that he can't give anyone a jump due to regulations meant to avoid shorting out the police car's sensitive electronics. He did call a tow truck to give me a jump, thought it wound up costing me $75. A lesson well learned.
So where does the death come in? Well, in those few bleak moments after the reality of my situation hit me, but before the police car drove past, it occurred to me that I would never have a better opportunity to abandon my old life and start fresh. I could take what little cash I had in my wallet, catch a train into the city, buy a bus ticket to another city, and leave it all behind.
In the new city, I'm sure I'd have to stay at a homeless shelter for a while until I found a job that'd pay under the table. From there, I could begin building a new identity. I could create a whole new life for myself. When would it ever be a better time to do that than with my car and phone dead in a strange place at midnight?
Spoiler: I didn't abandon my life. I don't even want to, but...sometimes we're driven to do things we don't want to do. I was able to resist the urge this time, but maybe not always. Maybe not forever. But last night, at least, I decided to go on being me.
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