accepting offers from strangers

So much has happened in the last month, I don't even know where to begin. I think I'll start with the most recent, and then go back to recount the other fabulous December adventures later.

The past four days have been riddled with mishaps and fantastic strokes of luck. My panic-process began almost as soon as we landed at O'Hare: my luggage could not be located. After waiting 3 hours at the airport (where they promised that it was coming...LIES), Ted and I continued our way to Evanston. My apartment is small but rather cozy, and I have a nice view of the street. That first night, I slept in my coat on a bare mattress because I had no sheets.

My incredible bank-account-depleting process began almost immediately, what with taking a taxi from O'Hare to my apartment. Later, we decide to take the bus to Target so I could pick up household-y essentials (like soap and toothpaste and toilet cleaner), which is when I managed to feed a $10 bill into a bus fare machine that only accepts exact change. Luckily, our driver was incredibly nice and arranged to pick us up on his way back, so it wasn't an entire waste of money.

But my God. Why didn't anyone tell me how much it costs to obtain basic household supplies?! Oh my God. Damn me and my need to have cleaning supplies and, I don't know, FOOD. Whole Foods is my closest grocery store, and I was so hungry when I went in, I bought a $5 hunk of cheese and $4 slab of butter, nevermind the fact that I don't ever use butter (but I will now!). Since then, I've been back to Target to pick up, among other things, pillows ($5.99 apiece) and a 16-piece dishware set ($49.50). This purchase was made on the assumption that I might one day make friends and invite them to dinner, and they will want to eat from something that is not a plastic flowered plate or a big green mug. (Those of you who lived in Nicholas 107 may remember these two items.) So I am now even more motivated to make some friends, or else there really isn't any point for me to own four salad plates.

Then I accidentally bought a $10 mojito with dinner on Tuesday. I almost had a panic attack when I saw the bill, and Ted had to hurriedly calm me down before I hyper-ventilated myself into a red haze. But it's true, I'm an idiot.

Speaking of food and idiocy, I decided to walk a mile and a half to Dominick's today to save on potentially screwing myself over with bus fare. Dominick's is part of the Safeway chain, I think, because some of the products there have a Safeway label. But anyway, it's like the Bloom or Giant of the Midwest, I suppose. It took me about an hour to walk there (did I mention that it's VERY cold and windy in Chicago right around now?), and somewhere along the way, I decided that I was definitely NOT walking back.

Dominick's is a little bit smaller than the Giant that I normally go to, and they have all their aisles helpfully labeled with suggestions for what their contents may be used for, such as "BREAKFAST" or "LUNCH/DINNER" or "SEASONAL GREETINGS." I felt like a walking stereotype when I found myself getting a little distraught when I couldn't find soy sauce or Spiracha (the proper name for what I normally call "cock sauce") in the condiments section--but honestly, I don't know how to season things with stuf like, I don't know, whatever it is that people marinade their foods with that's not soy sauce. I am a little embarrassed to admit that a tear or two may have sprung into my eyes when I discovered the ethnic foods section tucked in by the baked goods. I may or may not have bought half a dozen packets of Shin Ramyun just because it was there.

After about an hour of perusing the grocery store, I came away with hand soap, mustard and 120 sheets of recycled paper napkins (yes! for being green!). The people at the info desk were very helpful in directing me to the nearest bus stop. Seriously, people here are super nice. After locating the bus stop, I waited for about 30 minutes before realizing that it was New Year's and that I hadn't seen any buses passing all day. During this time, I managed to miss another phone call from Kang, which added to my distress of being stranded at a grocery store.

Getting desperate, I noticed that there was a guy walking towards me in a grey sweatshirt. I decided to flag him down.

"Excuse me, do you know if the buses are running today?" I called as he approached.

The guy squinted at the sign over the bus stop, and then explained that since it was a holiday, the next bus wasn't probably until, oh, tomorrow. "I wouldn't wait for it," he said.

Fantastic. I thanked him, and picked up my bags, resigned to walking home in the dark. He noticed that we were walking in the same direction (or maybe he thought that I was following him), and asked where I was going.

"Um, Maple Avenue? Around the university?" I said.

"Oh yeah, I know where that is. I mean, I can take you there. You want a ride? It's no problem."

This was a problem. On the one hand, he was a complete stranger. On the other, I was very cold and did not fancy walking a mile and a half home in the encroaching night. On the OTHER other hand, he was a complete stranger.

I said okay.

Admittedly, my judgment may have been questionable and this whole venture may have ended very poorly. But fabulous strokes of luck as they may, he was very nice and relatively harmless. His name is Craig, and he used to play basketball for Northwestern and is now applying for med school. His car's battery had died, and he had gone to fetch something to re-charge it (he explained what was going on, but there was a lot of spark plugs and alternators that got in the way of my comprehending what he was saying), and that was the only reason he passed by me this afternoon. We got to his car and he attached the recharger thing to his battery.

"Man, this puts a serious cramp on my day," he said, glaring.

"I'm really sorry about that," I said.

"Oh no, it's not your fault!" he said hurriedly. Then, in a decidedly more vicious tone, he muttered, "FUCK, me."

"I'm sorry!" I apologized again for inconveniencing him.

"Oh no no, it's not you!" he exclaimed. "It's this piece of shit car. Oh, FUCK! Me!"

We finally managed to get his car started and headed towards NU. Our conversation was rather pleasant, sprinkled with his invectives ("Oh, FUCK, me" being his go-to expletive phrase of choice) towards his car/driving in general. He deposited me right by my building and rumbled off into the darkness, leaving me to wonder what exactly had happened and if my decision-making skills were seriously shot.

I shook my head as I trudged towards my building, saying a prayer to the powers that be that got me out of this alive and in one piece. I mean, what were the odds that he wasn't a creeper? I mean, how dumb am I, really? The words "Fuck, me" may have occurred once or twice in my prayer, but I think that's acceptable given everything that happened.

So no worries, I don't plan to accept rides from complete strangers as a regular mode of transportation in the future, but if anyone gets stuck around Evanston and they happen to run into a very very tall guy driving an old Legacy with automatic seat belts, it's okay to accept. He's nice.