Almost Shattered Christmas

Christmas started out like no other Christmas before. We planned to leave for SoCal at four in the AM because Farah's boss wanted to keep the restaurant open until the regular closing time, 2AM--what could we do--but it later dawned on him that people don't come in for Chinese food at one in the morning on Christmas Eve! Gee, I didn't see that coming! So the plan was for Farah to hitch a ride home from a co-worker after work because I needed all the sleep I could get before driving in the wee hours of the morning. Farah was to shower up and do all that a girl needs to do to get ready for a trip, and in the meantime, I would wake up at around 3:30 to pack up the car so we could leave by four o'clock. But we had a minor complication. The restaurant closed early--no surprise there--and Farah came home at 2:00. The co-worker who was kind enough to drop her off turned to Farah and instead of wishing her a Merry Christmas as Farah stepped out of the car, she said, "Oh, no! Farah, your car window is broken!"

Shit!


Our box on wheels did not even stand a chance parked out in front of our house beneath the crow-infested, now leafless trees. Some A-hole decided that it would be a good idea to bust out our window to wish us a Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas to you, too, buddy! It almost would have been better if this person actually stole something from the car, that way, it would have been almost justifiable, as if there was a motive besides just breaking glass. (By the way, there was nothing inside of the car anyway, well, unless you want to count a 24-pack of Aquafina) But no, the doors were not even unlocked. Somebody just wanted to break a window and continue on their way to having a jolly holiday. And to this person, there are only two words that I'd like to say to you and they are not thank you.

With three hours of sleep and a window that fell to the ground when I opened the door, our trip to SoCal wasn't looking like it was going to happen. So what do you do when it's now three o'clock in the morning on Christmas Day and you have a busted-out window and are supposed to be leaving for a 400 mile drive in just one hour? The answer is: after scratching your head and kicking yourself in the pants for not having duct tape in your toolbox, you call your nearest, most reliable friend.

Dan, how can we ever thank you? Dan was equipped with what we were not--cardboard and packing tape. And Dan was kind enough to not just lend us the supplies but to actually come over and help us put together a make-shift window, all this, I remind you, at three o'clock in the morning on Christmas day. This, ladies and gentlemen, is friendship.

Despite the frustration and inconvenience of the situation, we didn't want to let the actions of some jackass to ruin our Christmas; with just three hours of sleep, a one hour delay and a damn good window made of cardboard and tape, we decided to go for it. We left at 5:10 and in record time found ourselves on my grandparent's porch only five hours and twenty minutes later. And thanks to Dan for all of his help, we were able to go down south after all.