If you want your faith in humanity to precipitously decline, but then rapidly rekindle, park in front of an Outback Steakhouse and have your car battery die.
Last week I took Blake to the urgent care after work to sort out some ear issues. I dropped him off and then headed to Home Depot. I returned half an hour later with a car full of slightly bedraggled (consequently severely on sale!) flowers and parked in the lot right in front of the Outback Steakhouse.
I turned off the car and people-watched to my heart's content. Outback makes for excellent people-watching. It also makes for great loss of confidence in the American public. All for a great cause though, right? That bloomin' onion is impossible to resist.
After having my fill of awkward Americans, I turned on the overhead light to read. That was my first and fatal mistake. Five minutes later I turned off the light and waited just a few minutes more for Blake.
The doctor wasn't able to give him any sort of ear relief (they were missing a part?!) and so Blake was bummed when he got back in the car. Then, to make matters worse, the car wouldn't start. Who knew that five minutes of overhead light would zap a battery? I sure didn't. But boy did I learn that lesson fast.
I was pleasantly surprised at how many folks offered to help us. A car full of slightly tipsy ladies gave us an unsuccessful jump - probably due to the fact that we had the world's wimpiest jumper cables and our battery was just that dead. A tatted and pierced thuglet offered us his tools (none of which were helpful, but still a nice gesture). All in all it made me feel infinitely prouder of my fellowman.
We ended up calling our friends Ryan and Tiffany to the rescue. They gave up most of their Thursday night to drive up, help us start the car, and follow us home. If that's not true friendship I don't know what is. Though, if they're smart, they'll start screening my calls in the future.