Boardwalk - Yosemite National Park (October 2006)

Well, it's been a while since I've shared any real tales, since I haven't had much happen recently that would appeal to a broad audience. However, I was visiting friends last week and an amusing story was shared with me, which I have decided to relate here. I've changed the names for no really good reason, except it is tradition, afterall. I've also taken some mild creative liberties, since I don't remember all of the minor details of the story. I can assure you, all of the important facts are based on real life events.

The Story:

My friend Olga (again, I've changed the names, so I have no friend named Olga, and my use of that name should not lead you to infer that my friend is a famous Belorussian gymnast) was driving in a well-known bad neighborhood in California. As I recall she had at least one other friend in the car. We'll call this person Exhibit A. Olga was taking Exhibit A to an amusement park for the afternoon (that's a fictional statement, but it doesn't matter). As they pulled up to an intersection, they couldn't help but notice a woman (we'll call her Bill, to maintain a certain level of randomness) running around frantically, in apparent need of help. Being compassionate individuals, Olga and Exhibit A stopped the car to see if they could be of some assistance. It is at this point that I will introduce the next character in the story: Yoga Mat. Yoga Mat was sitting in the backseat beside Bill. That is, after Bill jumped into the car without asking, which I failed to mention earlier. Bill urgently needed a ride to "Hokeyville", or so she said, which is one of the few entirely true to fact parts of this story, and Olga, being the compassionate Mother Theresa that she is, and having little choice now that Bill was already in the car, set off for "Hokeyville." Bill informed her that it was located on a nearby street.

I would share details about the drive, but I would be making them up, and I don't believe in that. At some point along the way, Bill yelled, "Stop the car." As soon as the car was moving slowly enough to escape without bodily harm, Bill opened her door, grabbed Yoga Mat, jumped out, and started running, Yoga Mat in tow. If there's any confusion at this point, I should mention that Yoga Mat was not a real person, but an actual mat for doing yoga. Bill stole Olga's yoga mat.

Of all the random things I've heard of in my life, and all the random things I've conceived of in the writing of this story, that is the most superlatively random. Why someone would jump into someone else's car, ask for help, then steal a yoga mat from them, of all things, is completely beyond my comprehension. Why not a purse, or a cell phone, or an MP3 player, all of which were sitting in plain sight?

So, I've written this in a purposefully disorienting manner to give the reader some idea how Olga and Exhibit A felt when a yoga mat was stolen from the car in which they rode. In their confusion, what could they do but let it go?

The moral (you can call me Aesop): If you love somebody, let them go.