Thursday, September 01, 2005
# Posted 9:46 PM by Ariel David Adesnik
You see, Patrick decided to crash on my couch in Charlottesville last night and I thought I was doing him a favor. This morning, I was scheduled to make the final move from Charlottesville to Washington DC, where I now live in Columbia Heights. Always a polite guest, Patrick helped me pack up my car and even moved heavy objects like my television. And then we parted ways, with Patrick driving off in his superfly Cadillac Eldorado.
Four minutes later, I crashed into a car that had stopped in front of me on Millmont Rd. in Charlottesville. The air bags shot out, saving me from some unpleasant bruises, but also busting the windshield. Since I drive (excuse me, drove) a 1996 Pontiac Sunfire, that means the cost of repair now exceeds the value of my car. But that is hardly the worst of it.
As a precaution, I told the paramedics I would accept transport to the hospital. Little did I know that this would entail leaving all of my possessions behind in my car while I was strapped down to a board and laid to rest in the back of ambulance, even though, as far as I could tell, I was perfectly fine. Thankfully, in the few minutes during which I was waiting for the police and paramedics I first called my mother and then called Patrick.
While I was gone, Patrick amazingly unloaded all of the worldly possessions amassed in my car, transferred them to his, then drove over to the hospital to look after me. After I was discharged, Patrick then drove me all of the way to Washington DC, even though he would have to spend another couple of hours on the road to get back to Richmond, where he is staying at the moment.
And if not for Patrick? My worldly possessions would have found their way, inside my car, to the salvage yard where my car now resides. I would then somehow have had to find a way to get another car, get to the salvage yard, get my stuff, stay overnight in Charlottesville, call my new apartment building and tell them I wouldn't be moving, and spend at least one or two days dealing with the situation.
Which would've meant missing my girlfriend's birthday in New York City tomorrow and possibly my uncle's 40th wedding anniversary celebration on Sunday. So, in the colloquial sense of the term, I am proud to say that Patrick saved my life. Of course, we were good friends well before we started blogging together, so there is no way that I can laud the blogosphere and castigate the mainstream media for the situation in which I now find myself.
Nonetheless, I think that blogging truly has kept Patrick and myself much closer than we otherwise would have been as a result of our extended separation by the Atlantic Ocean. But perhaps you have had enough of my sentimental ramblings. Really, the simple story of what Patrick selflessly did on the total spur of the moment tells you more about his generosity than any string of adjectives that I could provide. (0) opinions -- Add your opinion
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