Walking out to my car after another boring day at Menards a man comes running up to me asking if he can use my phone. His car died and he had to call his friend. I dialed holding the phone to his ear with my other hand on my box cutter knife. He pulls out some money and asks if I'd give him a ride to the corner store down the street. Before I answer he jumps in my car. Gripping my phone ready to call 911 if I had to and not buckling my seat belt in case I needed to jump out. Every possible situation that could go wrong flashed through my head. As we got nearer to the store he tells me to keep driving. He asks me if I ever dated a black man before and that I'm so fine. I answered telling him I was going to tell my boyfriend he said that. He got all worried and kept saying no because he'll be mad at him. We kept driving and my heart was racing wondering where exactly we were going. Half a mile later he tells me to pull over and he gets out. He then hands me 5$ and thanks me for helping out a stranger. I wish there weren't so many crazy people in the world that made everyone lose trust in helping someone out. Does this mean I'd do something like that again. No.
This summer we decided to go to the cottage any weekend we had nothing else going on. This week, due to fires in the Boundary Waters and Canada, the air quality was pretty terrible. We debated if we should still go, but it looked like it would clear up by Saturday. So we took the chance. And by terrible, we mean the worst air quality we'd ever seen. Along the way we decided to stop at John and Heidi's Happy Daze . We've passed this place probably 100 times. It was about time to stop by. I ordered the prime rib sandwich special. Yummy. The sandwich that is. Everybody's food was really good, but Brooke's was the star of the show. I want to get back here asap. Now if only this pesky smoke would go away.
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-Blake The Roman