Starting Over

Breaking Down and Meeting New Friends

Izzy

While driving I reflect on how I ended up a broken shell of a person. Once upon a time, I was vibrant full of life, but one bad decision after another lead me to being a broken mess. Looking back at who I use to be all I feel is disconnected from that girl. It’s  as if she was an entirely different entity. I feel like nothing but a stupid fat failure. Breathing in another painful deep breath I look in the rear view mirror at myself and say, “Isabel I mean Izzy you got this you can and will do this and succeed. The once upon a time badass is still in there so stop with the pity party and get your life back.” I’ll find somewhere in nowhereville USA, and Ryan will eventually move on to his next victim, I just gotta be smart. 

I drive for three days just taking exits when my instincts tell me to. To save money I’ve slept in my car at truck stops, but it’s time to start finding a place to stop, and begin starting over. My plan to stay on the interstate til my gut says go to  that town. However, construction and detours have other ideas. There our two detour options I take option two the more country driving different scenery will be nice. After roughly four hours of country driving my car starts to smoke. “CRAP!! Come on baby don’t do this to me now. I’m surrounded by nothing but woods no houses I have no phone do not break down right now” what’s the old Buick’s answer to my plea? She sputters then dies. 

“Well s**t what do I do now?” I say as I look around. For starters I guess I should try getting the car as far off the road as possible. I put the car in neutral, get out, and do my best to push it out the way. I have the door open so I can still steer, but I’m not getting very far. Within minutes of my laughable pushing attempts I hear what sounds to be a very loud truck. I make sure I got my flashers on, and turn around just in time to see a motorcycle not truck popping over the hill. The biker slows down and stops behind me. I quickly check my pockets I have my knife, taser, and pepper spray in their designated pockets. I go ahead and slip out the pepper spray, and apprehensively watch as they get off the bike and removing their helmet. A relieved sigh escapes when I see a woman and not a man. I’m more apt to win a fight, if it comes to that, against a woman than I would if it were a man. I realize it’s an unnecessary worry, because she comes all smiles saying, “hey I’m Tammy. Do you need some help?” Returning her smile I reply, “I’m just trying to get this piece of junk outta the road.” “Here let me help. Where you heading?” “Anywhere in the sticks, I’m wanting to start over somewhere.” “Well I own a bikers bar if you want a job about 30 miles from here and I have an open two bedroom apartment. You’d have a roommate, but they’re outta town til the end of next month, and my buddy Floyd owns a tow truck and is the town mechanic I can call and ask em’ to come get your car he’s real fair on his prices.” “Yes to all that. Oh, and I’m Izzy.” “Alright Izzy let me call Floyd and you can ride with me to the bar and apartment if you want.” “That’d be great thanks.”  I couldn’t believe my luck. This isn’t any coincidence I’ve found where I’m supposed to go, and my instincts are screaming that this where I need to be. I guess no more falling down the rabbit hole for me.