Relive and Relieve 2

Again, I return to reliving some of the more stressful moments of my life here in this blog in the hopes I can return to a more normal-functioning lifestyle. With a child on the way, I'm confronted with new concerns about how I will protect and provide for my growing family. Luckily I've rarely found myself or loved-ones in harm's way. But I always thought I would be able to act bravely and calmly in the face of adversity. That belief would be tested in one particular instance about a year ago.

Heading North on I-95 through New Jersey, with my wife in the car, I decided to stop and grab a coke to keep me alert for the rest of the drive. It was about 12:30 am, so I thought caffeine would be a smart choice. As it turns out, my decision to pull into this particular road-side rest along I-95 would be my first mistake.

The rest area was the kind centered between the northbound and southbound side of the highway. Pulling in, I saw a rare open space right in front of the building, next to a handicapped space and directly facing a shiny, illuminated Coke machine. I scraped $1.50 in change from the coin holder in my car (sparing the state quarters I don't already have in my collection), and quickly hopped out of the car toward the Coke machine. After feeding the machine my less-desirable specie and retrieving my 16-ounce beverage from the dispenser, I jumped back into my car. Without thinking, I quickly twisted the cap off the bottle. That was my second mistake. The rapid hissing and bubbling from the bottle immediately reminded me of some simple laws of physics. Seconds later, my steering wheel, dashboard and imitation wood paneling are drenched in syrupy high-fructose corn syrup.

My wife valiantly jumps out of the car and ran inside to get some wet paper towels. I, in the meantime, grabbed some extra napkins I have in the car and started tidying up. With the driver’s door open, one leg dangling out of the car, I attempted to reach the deep recesses of the dashboard that only an exploding carbonated beverage could reach. As I busily wiped away, I was approached by the kind of character you’d only expect to see roaming a highway rest stop at 12:30 am.

“Hey, man, can you give me money for gas?” he asked. “I’ve been here for hours and really need money.”

“No, I’m sorry.” I responded curtly. Was I wrong not to give him a dollar? With the price of gas these days, it wouldn’t have gotten him very far. None-the-less, mistake number three.

He came back a minute later.

“Look man, I just want some money for gas to get out of here.” He implored in a slightly more psychotic tone.

“No. Sorry,” I said as I swung my leg back in the car and closed the door. The guy slinked back into the shadows of the parking lot.

A few minutes later, my wife returned to the car with the damp paper towels. Lord knows what took her so long. We spent a few more minutes wiping down the car. Before we left, I quickly ran inside to wash the diluted Coke and Armor-All off my hands. My wife stayed behind to continue cleaning up. Mistake number four.

I rushed into the restroom, toke care of all the necessary business and hustled back out the door to the car. As I stepped outside, I am shocked to see that my parking space, the one next to the handicap spot, in front of the soda machine, is now empty. The car is gone. Only an oily stain remains.

“Okay, she moved the car, right?” I thought rapidly to myself. I looked across the aisle, down the row, but I didn’t see her. I spun 360 degrees. After 15 or 20 seconds, a mild panic began to brew.

“Maybe she moved the car to get away from that creepy guy,” I mulled in my head. “Or worse yet, maybe he forced her into the car and is taking her god knows where.”

Now the worst possible scenarios are racing through my mind as a rush of adrenaline washes my body. “Fuck, why didn’t I warn her about the creepy guy before I left her alone?” (Please refer to mistakes four and five.)

I now realized that my wallet, cell phone and keys were all in the car. I can’t even call her to find out what the hell is going on. Another mistake.

A half minute has passed by now. It’s felt like an hour. My heart was pumping and my vision focused down to a tunnel. I looked around to see who might have witnessed anything. I looked again at the empty parking space, the handicap space and the Coke machine. Complete panic consumed me.

I whirled around and headed inside for help. As I charged back into the rest stop, the first thing I notice is a large sign hanging above the doors across the lobby. The sign reads “SOUTHBOUND.” I spun around and look at the wording above the door I just entered: “NORTHBOUND.” The ultimate blunder!

I ran across the lobby and blasted through the doors to the northbound side of the building. As I stepped outside, I realized I’d been roaming a parallel universe. Here, next to an identical handicapped parking space and Coke machine clone is my car, with my wife sitting inside, still wiping the Coke from every crevasse of the dashboard that only a carbonated beverage could find.

Opening the door, I slinked back into my seat. I grabbed my wife’s hand and breathe a sigh of relief. My wife gave me a confused look. Reaching out to close the door behind me, a voice called out.

“Hey, man, can you help me with some gas money?!”