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was going, adding broken glass to the mix would have been a recipe for disaster.
Just about the time I was beginning to despair, I began to experience some true rural hospitality.
The next car approaching from the west on 211 stopped to help me. It was two men who appeared to be in their early 20s. They waited patiently while letting me use their cell phone, and refused to accept any money as gratitude.
“I would want someone to do the same thing for me if I was stuck out here,” the driver said.
I called information, reached a 24-hour towing company and reported the accident to the police. The two men waited until an officer arrived before continuing on their way.
Of course, the state trooper that reported to the scene was the same one that had given me the speeding ticket about 45 minutes earlier.
“How’s it going?” he asked as he emerged from the cruiser.
“It’s not my night,” I a Tvawnron
“No, it’s not,” he said. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I have to admit, I’ve never seen this before.”
“Guess what?” I said, “I locked my keys in the car, too.”
He shook his head in disbelief.
I was shivering after standing in the cold for 30 minutes, so the trooper let me sit in the cruiser while he filled out the accident report.
We got to talking and, after explaining my tale of woe, he was nice enough to void the speeding ticket.
A tow truck arrived minutes later. Deer were out in force that night, and I spotted at least 10 more on the drive to Warrenton.
I arrived home at 12:15 a.m. to find that my house mates had locked the deadbolt on our front door (to which I do not have a key - another story), thus locking me out of my own house. I began to fear what would happen next: Would I be struck by lightning? Attacked by a bear?
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