I woke up and could not remember what day it was.
While I haven’t completely isolated myself, being home more than 80 percent of the day for multiple days in a row is a bit much.
I believe that social distancing as much as possible and normal life being somewhat suspended is what will fight the pandemic best. People can only take so much.
Thankfully — but unfortunately — I had an eventful day with social interaction.
Amidst the current pandemic, my truck decided now was a great time to gouge my wallet for a new battery and alternator.
On my way to Autozone, I stalled at an intersection thanks to a red light.
The intersection was less than a football field’s length away from the store’s parking lot.
Normally, this wouldn’t worry me because someone would most likely stop and help me out. But during a pandemic where we are told to social distance, I expected to be left alone.
However, my fears were for naught. Two men stopped to push my truck out of the road. One of the men stayed to jump-start my old rusty vehicle.
I thanked him, but paused for a second. My initial response was to go for a handshake. I think the other guy had the same pause too.
Instead of a handshake, we waved and I raced to the store before my truck died again.
I made my purchases and the employee came out to help. But now my truck posed a new problem.
The bolt that held the battery case flush to the battery was stripped and could not be removed.
We spent about 15 minutes messing with it to no avail.
An older gentleman with a thick country accent who was working on his vehicle four parking spaces away had come over to see why I had two employees under the hood of my truck.
When he saw the issue with the stripped bolt, he brought over a screwdriver and hammer. With my permission, he bent the casing out so the batteries could be swapped.
During this time, my mom showed up with a coworker to replace the alternator.
He replaced it quickly and charged me hardly anything.
In times like these, the world seems crazy and we hear lots of stories about selfish hoarders and out-of-touch millionaires. But caring people still exist too. Human kindness doesn’t die so easily.
