I hate airlines. I flew home for the holidays on Alaska Airlines. Now the airlines are, unfortunately, pretty much the only game in town in terms of travel. This means that they can essentially charge their customers for anything-- Alaska currently charges for any checked baggage. I found this obnoxious. Given that bringing ice skates in carry-on seems to be a gray area in TSA policy, and I wanted to bring home my ice skates so I could practice and show up my beloved Cerinthus when he comes to visit, I decided to not take a cab so I would have the money to pay for the baggage if it were necessary.
The bus stop right near my apartment is only serviced on particular hours on weekdays. Consequently, I had to walk over a mile uphill to bring my bag to the bus that would take me to the airport. My bags were extremely heavy, but they were rolling bags so I figured I could make it. I began my long walk. As I walked, I thought to myself, "wouldn't it be funny if someone offered me a ride?" About a quarter mile up the hill, a brand new Prius pulled up in front of me and rolled down its window. A man, about seventy, asked "do you need a ride somewhere?" I smiled and declined as politely as I could. I knew that that was probably a pretty safe option-- an old hippie with a new car-- but as a pretty young woman, getting into a car with a stranger was never a good idea. So, I continued to drag my suitcase.
About a half a mile up the hill, a beat up red van with it's back windshield taped on with duct-tape pulled up beside me. A young man, clearly realizing how sketchy he looked asked rather sheepishly, "do you need a ride up the hill?" At this point, I was pretty tired and I was thinking about it. However, I was smart, and I knew that I could not accept a ride from someone I did not know (and if I had, against my better judgement, I really should have accepted the ride from the old guy in the Prius). So I continued for another quarter mile.
Suddenly a figure approached, walking, and hailed me by name. "Do you need some help, Sulpicia," said the friend who approached. At this point, I was happy to accept some help, especially from someone I knew. The boy generously took my bag and started walking in the opposite direction. We walked for a half mile before getting to his car, for he had generously offered to drive me to the airport. The car was a fairly new, just-been-detailed BMW sportscar. The ride was pleasant and I was very grateful.