His story; he was going to his brother's house for a party (more on that later) and took a wrong turn, so he figured he would turn around, simple enough. He even chose to turn around in a driveway that just so happened to be the best lit driveway in the neighbourhood. He pulls in only to slip into a three-foot deep trench on the roadside. He blamed his mis-step on the fog. Fair enough, shit happens.
Try as we might to dislodge his truck, going so far as to jump up and down on his back bumper to get the other rear wheel to contact the ground, we concluded that a tow-truck would be his best bet. He would have none of it and used my cell to phone his brother. When he finally arrived with his F-250 4X4, but more importantly, a rope thicker than my arm, it was just a matter of time before that truck was back on the road.
The old man was so grateful that we stayed with him through his ordeal, that he invited us to that party he was going to. He must have been at least in his 50's, maybe 60's, but we figured, "What the hell?" and we followed him. And let me just say, I'm glad we did. The party was just a gathering of friends who drank and played guitar in a barn build for partying. It was a great time, and they loved us right away. Maybe because we reminded them of their kids. They immediately accepted us, talking our ears off about all the times they get together and the good times they have. Just really nice people. They are the kind of people that after a night of drinking with them you feel like you've known them for much longer than the fact.
Maybe I should introduce you to the group? There's Adrian; the guy who got stuck in the ditch and became a living joke that night, the old marrieds Chuck and Di (I kid you not), Roger; who plays a mean guitar with his fly open, his wife Sharon; who tried in vain to fix that, Pierre "Peter" (Pedro?) the nice guy who came to his brother's rescue and owner of the party barn, Fred; the proud owner of a new Civic and soon to be proud grandpa, and apparently some other people who acted as filler that we didn't really meet...not yet at least.
The old man was so grateful that we stayed with him through his ordeal, that he invited us to that party he was going to. He must have been at least in his 50's, maybe 60's, but we figured, "What the hell?" and we followed him. And let me just say, I'm glad we did. The party was just a gathering of friends who drank and played guitar in a barn build for partying. It was a great time, and they loved us right away. Maybe because we reminded them of their kids. They immediately accepted us, talking our ears off about all the times they get together and the good times they have. Just really nice people. They are the kind of people that after a night of drinking with them you feel like you've known them for much longer than the fact.
Maybe I should introduce you to the group? There's Adrian; the guy who got stuck in the ditch and became a living joke that night, the old marrieds Chuck and Di (I kid you not), Roger; who plays a mean guitar with his fly open, his wife Sharon; who tried in vain to fix that, Pierre "Peter" (Pedro?) the nice guy who came to his brother's rescue and owner of the party barn, Fred; the proud owner of a new Civic and soon to be proud grandpa, and apparently some other people who acted as filler that we didn't really meet...not yet at least.
These people pleasantly surprised me with their warmth, generosity, and willingness to accept total strangers into their group and it made me really antsy for Europe (update: 59 days!) because making fast friends is what it's all about out there.