So happy on my 1st day of vacation.
Leading up to this glorious day, I’d been furiously packing up to donate, ship or load my things into my fuel-efficient car to relocate back home to NC. With average Austin rents rising 40% and average one-bedroom apartment rents increasing 108% from one year to the next, my migration was inevitable.
Initially, I thought I would “good job” my way out of Texas. Somewhere, somehow, I’d land a more interesting job, making at least twice as much money and move closer to my parents, who I hadn’t seen since December 2019. Instead, I relocated with my present work-from-home job. As a matter of fact, I’d worked for over a year and had never taken a vacation…only a few hours to a few days here and there. I’d accrued over three weeks of PTO, but I knew better than to take more than two.
I rolled out of Austin in good time to meet one final friend for brunch.
I didn’t realize this place was famous.
I’d asked for a restaurant recommendation close to the highway. I got more than I bargained for. I was surprised that there was a 45-minute wait for a table. Nearly everyone I spoke with was from out of town. I felt like the only one who hadn’t seen this place on some TV show.
My friend and I discussed our respective life choices, given both circumstances beyond our control and the limitations of our respective skill sets. No matter what, seems like success is always short-lived or just out of our grasp. All those heavy topics about human drama over a two-egg benedict for me while my friend ate his non-dairy and other dietary restrictive meal.
The whole day, no matter whether I was parked at a restaurant or at a gas station, especially when I’d dashed into the bathroom, I worried about the security of the stuff in car.
Except for when I checked into a hotel for the night. As I drove up to my usual hotel chain of choice, I somehow convinced myself that the general reputation of the hotel chain would be maintained in Jackson, MS. This particular location was near a construction site, had no cameras on the building that overlooked the parking lot except for a camera on the entranceway.
What I should have done was drove to another location, after all it was a national hotel chain, but I convinced myself that security, who would come around 11 PM would suffice. Besides, I parked on the side where there wasn’t a lot of foot traffic, close to the entrance.
A bit past midnight, I received a phone call.
My worst nightmare had come true.
The police officer on security detail escorted me to my car, telling me essentially that no one saw anything until after the fact; so this must have happened before he came on duty at 11 PM. They had to run my tags to find out who the car’s owner was. Apparently, some good Samaritan reported the burglary to the front desk, who called the police. The responding officer left their contact card, which provided the local police number and a case number.
I immediately saw that two out of three of my work-related computer boxes had been stolen. Days later, when I unpacked the remaining things in my car, I realized that more of my personal things had been stolen.
I went to bed for a few minutes, returning to my car to retrieve the remaining computer box. On my way back into the hotel, I asked the cop how long he’d be on duty: 6 AM…the same time breakfast would begin. That was the start of a plan.
I called my car insurance to see how fast I could get the window repaired. Although the cop had used one of my blankets to block the busted out window, I needed more of an appearance of a secured car. Plus, I didn’t want to cause my parents undue stress when I rolled up to their house. Of course, nothing could be done at that time of night.
I barely slept, which meant I was on time for breakfast. While I ate, I reasoned that I’d be better off as a moving target rather than sitting around the hotel, waiting for 8 AM EST when the car insurance main office would be open.
Even though the rear passenger window was busted, I still kept up with the flow of traffic. I pulled into a gas station an hour later to call my car insurance company again. I wanted them to locate a place to fix my window in Meridian, MS, which was where I was heading. Yet, thanks to timezones, none of those shops were open. No problem! I drove for another hour before stopping at another gas station to call my car insurance.
This time, I connected to one of the best customer service agents ever. Plus, I was an hour longer into my travels and knew that the next biggest city was Atlanta, GA. I’d never driven this route before and since I was using Waze, I hadn’t bothered plotting a travel course on my own. This customer service agent worked diligently for over 30 minutes to find someone to fix my window later that day.
I met the angel mechanic in Atlanta.
Just to prove how ultimately cool this guy was, he asked where my final destination was, then suggested a closer place where he’d meet me, saving me 30 minutes of driving out of my way. He was eating lunch with his daughter when I rolled up in the parking lot. He remedied the broken window in less than half an hour, including vacuuming the broken glass that he could see among my things.
Plus, I supported a small Black-owned business.
Once I hit the road again, not only was my window fixed, but thanks to staying in contact with my supervisor, the replacement equipment was in the works.
As I drove along the series of highways, the trip became a metaphor for moving on. The burglary became a metaphor ofor the negative things that happen in life that force me to change. Instead of checking into another hotel for the night, I drank coffee with a shot Baileys and drove into the night to my parents’ house.
Happily ever after for now.