So, every morning before I head to work to mow lawns and stuff, I go jogging. I usually try to run at about 6:30, but today my boss told me I was not working today. He was going to train the new guy, and then I would do the rest of the training tomorrow.
I love this.
Soo, I end up having a nice breakfast and everything. So I go running at 6:50, twenty minutes late. A guy that was walking across the street runs over to me, so of course I brace for a fight.
I've always wanted to go to a MMA fight. Haven't been able to yet.
A quick eye over reveals he has no visible bulges from concealing a weapon. I do note that he is sporting clothes that I would associate with a 'thug' or 'gangster' in Detroit.
Kind of what he looked like. Except not as much dirt, clothes more rugged, he had a purple and black heavy cotton button up shirt slung over his shoulder (it was fraying), and a Detroit hat with holes in it. Oh, and he had his hair in a ponytail beneath his hat.
The man starts talking to me and explains that he and some friends got drunk last night, and for some reason he can't remember, he parked in a street and a friend took him. At 5 o clock in the morning his friend kicked him out of his car and told him to walk back to his own truck.
Well, so much for this guy to walk anywhere...
He also tells me he's been walking about for what seems like two hours and that his car is a Ranger and is the color Gold.
This was what his car looked like.
My brain kept repeatedly telling me to run back into the house. But then I figured, "I'm a black belt, I'll be fine no matter what happens."
Exactly what my brain was telling me to do.
While walking he told me he drove into the neighborhood and turned and 'stuff'. Very descriptive (in case you have absolutely no sense of sarcasm, he was not at all!).
Reminds me of Mr. Gullible from the Amanda Show.
I logically think about which street he'd probably turn onto and the street called 'Wesley' comes to my head. So we head over to Wesley. Before we say the corner I say a quick prayer. Not even ten seconds after I finished, teh dude says in disbelief, "That's my car." and then yelled, "That's my car!" He ran toward his truck, and then back towards me.
What if I told you this same hand model was the model for the Allstate insurance company 'your in good hands' slogan...
He shakes my hand and says, "Man... Thank you. People just don't offer help anymore. It's just so unlikely... Thank you!"
Google search for the word 'unlikely' comes up with TONS of these types of images.
I stand there, and I watch him rev off into the distance. With a happy smirk on my face I turn around and start my jog.
Not quite as epic as the scene in Oceans Eleven, but good enough for the moment.
