I got the bike out for a bit of a back road run as I’ve not been on one in a bit (apart from an occasional dirt bike ride — yes, at 61 I still ride off road). We’re heading south for a bit of riding in the hills of North Carolina soon. I wanted to flex my muscles with some panic stop and swerving practice before letting SWG on the back. i put on my gear and realized I didn’t have my cell phone.  Meh, I won’t need it.

I head out and do some riding down back roads where I know I can slam on the anchors and do a bit of abrupt weaving to retrain that reptilian portion of the brain to just react automatically to the presence of danger ahead or behind,  I make a petrol stop, then point it back toward the barn. I get to an intersection on a fairly busy divided four lane where I need to turn left and home is just a few minutes away. I get into the left turn lane just as the light turns green for the stretch I’m on. There’s a jeep in the right lane that isn’t moving. He’s more or less in the intersection, hazards lights on. I get my bike onto the shoulder so I’m not blocking the lane. Cars are zooming past the Jeep. I figure  he must be having mechanical troubles.   I figure I’ll give him a push to get him out of the way of traffic. I run over to him when there’s clearing and he doesn’t know I’m there. I tap on the window. He can’t roll it down and looks confused. Finally he opens the door and I ask him if he needs help.

On the way to him I noted he’s got a US Army emblem on the spare tire cover. He’s an older fellow, probably a veteran by the tire cover. He seemed rather confused and bewildered. He said it wouldn’t start. I suggested he put it in neutral and I’ll push him out of the way. The light has turned red, so I don’t feel like a target. Yet. People are staring, but no one offers to help. He tells me it won’t go into neutral (automatic transmission) and he fumbles with the start button. The Jeep is fairly new and doesn’t require a key in the ignition so that can’t be turned to unlock the gear selector.

The light for the cross street is changing to yellow and I’m not feeling good about any of this. He’s fumbling with the start button again. I ask if he’s got a cell phone and he says yes. I suggest he summon a wrecker. He continues to do nothing productive. The cross street light has just turned red, so I hoof it back to my bike. People are glaring at both of us now. One stupid ass honks at him. “HIS GODDAM JEEP WON’T START!” She just glares at me. I get back to the bike and a truck slows down, rolls his window down a bit and asks ME if I’m alright. I tell him the poor old man’s Jeep won’t start. He drives off. The light cycles through a couple of times. There’s a store around the corner so I head there, closed as it’s fucking Sunday. I head home to get my phone and my truck with jumper cables,  a can of petrol, and tow strap. A friend and his kids are riding on my property so I get him to come with me. By the time we get back the Jeep is gone, thankfully.

I’m so glad that most people are too damn busy twiddling their gonads to offer another person anything more than a blast from their horn and a dirty look.
The majority of the human race seem to be selfish fucking pricks when they’re caged up in their shiny metal boxes. 

Oh, right, thank you for your service old fellow.  I hope you made it home safe.   No one else seemed to give a shit.  


Whoa!  I really expected this one to  fall to the bottom of the page and then off into oblivion.  Thanks for all the replies and the recs.   

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  1. Southern hospitality is a myth. I worked in southern West Virginia for four long years , seemed like ten. I worked in EMS and witnessed the same exact thing multiple times. Working accident scenes and being scared I would become a victim of someone not wanting to be inconvenienced as they drive by the crash site on their damn phones.


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