The second month of college had reached its end. The feeling of independence was starting to “sink in.” I was preparing for my first visit back to my old-hometown.
I had just poured my chinese food onto a plate and only taken a couple forkfuls when my friend Leah called. I put my fork down and answered. With a concerned tone in her voice, she asked if I had moved my car from the stadium—bringing remembrance to the game I hadn’t planned on attending. I had completely forgotten and so had Leah, who had repeatedly reminded me of the last home game. She was like, “Yeah, our cars got towed!!” The conversation ended quickly as we were both kind of flustered.
I had no idea what this meant. What do I do? Where was my car? How do I find out? I thought. I realized I was sitting in front of a computer, so I began researching. I immediately visited the Ball State website and searched where campus cars are towed. After googling it, I visited the website to the local towing place. The hours showed that the tow business was going to be closed in a half an hour for the weekend. I needed my car for the weekend, and if I waited, I would have been charged an extra forty dollars—of which I did not possess. The website also said they only had cash which I also did not have.
I realized I had no time to sit around and think of a plan. I came to a conclusion quickly. I remember thinking, if I am going to do this, I must leave now! I left my food, tied my shoes, grabbed my wallet, and literally ran out the door. As I ran to the ATM in the village, I mapped out directions to the address I also found online. I had not realized what I was getting myself into until I changed the setting on my maps APP from “car” to “walk.” The predicted time had shifted dramatically. I grabbed the $80 cash from the ATM and started sprinting in the right direction.
I told myself, “I deserve this. I deserve this,” over and over again. Motivation, perhaps? However, my legs only lasted about 7 blocks before I took a break. I would stare ahead to a telephone ahead and set points in which I could take a break from running and points I could start up again. It became indisputable I was not going to make it on time. I quickly looked up the number and called the tow business. It must have been obvious I had been running as I was panting when I asked if they could wait a few, extra minutes. Hindsight stating, “I am running to come pick up my car,” was a desperate and persuasive statement for the business to stay open.
After about a total of 50 minutes, crossing several railroad tracks and bridges, passing by a few sketchy streets, I reached the tow business. They were still open and I paid less money than if I had waited. I also had my car for the weekend. I remember thinking this was my exercise for the next couple months and I was happy with my quick conclusion to just go for it.
In the end, the results just became a story to share. I ended up sharing it on the campus comedy radio hour I am apart of on WCRD. It got a laugh from the cast members. But most importantly, I seemed relatively responsible to my parents. Even thought it was in fact my fault my car was towed, they were pleased I handled it independently.