I happily left the USTAR building after conducting what I thought to be a successful group interview with four very intelligent scientists and hopped into my car. I was feelin' good.
"Only 2:05?" I would have PLENTY of time to make it to my 3 p.m. class...
expletive expletive expletive expletive
Shortly after regaining some semblance of "composure," I made several frantic phone calls and sent quite a few desperate text messages. Stephen, David, Matt, Jake, Joe, Andrew, Andrew, Andrew (he finally answered), David... I even blasted that pretty lil' picture to FB and my friend Myles texted me to offer his assistance. I owe him chocolate chip cookies.
I believe it was at about this point that one of my co-workers saw the crisis from a distance. She strolled on by for a good laugh, took a few shots on her camera phone and walked away - still laughing, mind you.
Here is Andrew, hard at work, using a metal thingy he got from my trunk. I believe you people call it a "jack." I called it hope. What a guy! He willingly hopped out of bed to come give me a hand. (The hair doesn't lie, people.)
And I believe it was this point that two teenage girls walked by pointing and laughing. Literally pointing and laughing. I'm still not sure if it was at the looks of my car, the situation or both.
The boys tried lifting the front end to no avail. Burt is a weeee bit top-heavy, the poor guy. Don't poke fun. They tried inserting rocks under the tires for some sort of leverage. Again, Burt was not having it.
This is where Austin and his truck came in.