So at about 2 AM this morning I took a walk as I often do in the middle of the night.
I was meandering down 9th east when the only car on the street pulled over by my side.
I squinted into the window to see a short Mexican man with a giant mullet. He gave me a look like a lost puppy and asked me where the nearest hospital was. I was panicked at first, thinking he must be in dire trouble, so I started giving him directions and he got frustrated and confused and asked me to get in his car to help him find it.
Against all my better judgement and as the foolish bleeding heart person that I am, I got into his car. It was messy and smelled like alcohol. The stereo was playing old disco era music. He asked me if I had a bud and I told him I didn't. I started giving directions and learned through the man's awkward gibberish (speech worn down by years of drug use) that he was trying to visit his girlfriend to comfort her in the hospital as her mom was dying. He was from Salt Lake City and didn't know where anything was around Provo. I felt really bad for him. He seemed really frustrated, worried and tired so I tried to help as best I could.
We got to the hospital and drove around for a while trying to find his girlfriend who was supposed to be waiting outside. We couldn't find her anywhere, so I suggested that we go see if we could page her at the reception desk. We went in and I talked to a receptionist and a security guard trying to get a hold of this man's girlfriend or see if we could page her (neither seemed to think very highly of the man I was with who smelled like beer and talked like he was on crack, so I did all the talking), but because the man couldn't remember the last name of his girlfriend's mother, our attempts were in vain. We walked around some more and I kept leading this man through all of these logical steps to find his girlfriend (drive around the building again, look for her truck outside, get some change for a payphone, call her cell, etc) After trying all of these things, we still could not get a hold of this woman. The man looked like he was going to cry. I told him we had tried and that I wasn't sure what else we could do. He kept repeating that to himself, "I tried man, I mean s**t! I tried, what else am I supposed to do dawg?" and "I gotta get home and get some sleep, f**k!" I told him he ought to try calling his girlfriend again when he got home and at least leave a message saying what happened. He muttered some and we walked out to his car.
He told me he would give me a ride home so I got in his car again. He pumped up the volume on his disco music and said he was hungry, so we stopped at a McDonalds. He asked me if I wanted anything and I told him I was fine, but he kept insisting that I get something. I finally told him I'd get a Big Mac. He ordered two Big Macs for me. I started eating them even though I wasn't hungry, and he asked for directions to the freeway and then dropped me off at home. I wished him the best of luck with all sincerity, gave him props, and took the remains of my Big Mac into my apartment. I sat down and wrote this blog trying to figure out why all of these strange people have entered my life this week. I don't get it but it makes me smile and also gives me this odd sort of concern for these people I don't think I will ever see again. I suppose I need to realize something from all of this. I need to get to bed now.