Last night, I drove out to Camarillo, planning to meet this guy and hookup with him. He told me to get off at the Lewis Exit and be there at 9:30pm. So I was running late, and I got there at 9:40pm, worried that I was late.
I texted him, and he told me "b there in 5 minutes" ten minutes passes.
I text again "sorry, dropping a drunk friend off" twenty minutes pass.
I'm getting frustrated.
I text again saying "you're a really bad time estimator, lol" He responded "Sorry, didn't know I was going to end up designated driver and having to drop 4 people off". So now it's four people? WTF. So I wait some more, and finally I say "it's been 40 minutes dude, what's going on"
He finally says he's home, and I ask him for the address. A few minutes pass, and he finally texts it to me. So I drive over, park, and text him. 5 minutes pass. I text "Dude, I don't have time for this, where are you?" He said he was changing out of his suit... and then added "I'm doing the best I can and if you're going to have an attitude you should go home".
So I did.
I'm actually proud of myself that I value myself and my time enough not to allow a stranger to jerk me around like that for over an hour. I wish I'd done it sooner, but the point is I did it... so I never even saw him. Even though I was on his doorstep. I'm really glad I didn't. My time is valuable, and I'm a good guy who not only can get better, but deserves better.
So I drove home, and actually felt pretty great. I'd boosted my self esteem because I'd valued myself enough not to just have sex with someone I was angry with and didn't respect me or my time.
I was so far from home, and I figured I should do SOMETHING to be productive with my trip, and there was this place called "Lake Eleanor Open Space" in Thousand Oaks that I wanted to check out. So I got off the freeway and went there—but I quickly realized it was all fenced off, and I wasn't going to get to skinny dip in a moonlit lake—not that I would of, it was too windy and cool.
I was about to get back on the freeway, and I saw a 65 year old man thumbing for a ride with a bunch of books under his arm.
I stopped and picked him up.
He was headed to LA, and had missed the last bus back to the city after a class that he was attending. The poor guy didn't even have a jacket, and with the wind it was probably about 40 degrees.
He mentioned several times that I was an answer to a prayer... and it made me wonder if maybe the whole experience was to get me out there to help this man out when he needed it.
It's thrown me for a bit of a loop. No matter how hard I try to ignore my faith, when things like that happen, I think of how God must be directing me, guiding me to help others and enrich lives. Remarkable, isn't it?