apostrophenow

I was walking back from the gym a couple days ago. I saw a kid trying to push his big-ass 80s era sedan by himself out of a left turn median while in the midst of what passes for rush hour traffic around here. A past version of myself would have kept on moving, and minded his own business.

For reasons unknown, I felt compelled to dash across three lanes of blacktop, sneak up on the kid's ride, and begin pushing as hard as I could. The kid, half in and half out of the driver's side trying to steer, push, and look out for oncoming traffic all at once, never looked over his shoulder to notice. He must have been somewhat astonished at his near-sudden moderately superhuman strength.

Together we pushed that fuckin' boat through that left turn with a pack of sneering commuters bearing down, literally flying within inches of sending me into oblivion. We turned onto what I assume was his street. He jumped in the vehicle and attempted to start it while I huffed and puffed and continued to keep the car rolling. Ignition! He slammed the door and sputtered away, never acknowledging me, probably totally unaware.

I thought about how I felt for a minute. I walked home. I decided it was a good day.