My sister called me around three today which I was pretty happy about because I was sitting at work dying of boredom at the time. Unfortunately, little sisters rarely call their older brothers unless they're in trouble. Today was no exception. My sister's car overheated way up on Devon Ave., apparently she had a craving for Indian food she just couldn't resist. So I thought for a minute and weighed my options. I could have my little sister:
A) Go knock at some random persons door and ask them for a milk jug full of water and hope she could figure out how to open the radiator cap without burning her hand off.
B) Call Dad.
C) Lug some jugs of water and a roll of duct tape up there myself and hope for the best.
Since I'm the protective older brother type and my Dad is in purgatory (the suburbs) I decided I better go myself. I headed home from work and went to go get my car because lugging 3 gallons of water to the far north side on the red line didn't really appeal to me. I finally made it up there, got her car going again and followed her home. Having a car made this ordeal so much easier.
Until I got a flat tire on the way home.
In the rain.
That's why I support and use public transportation.