Road side assistance

A couple of months before we left for India we had an ant infestation in our house. We hired a bug killing company to fix the problem. They came, did their chemical killing and left. However, they left a complimentary pen. This pen appeared to be a normal pen. However, it was no normal pen. One half of the pen was actually a pen. The other half was a... screwdriver!

I immediately appropriated the 'pen'. As I was packing for India I remembered the 'pen'. I thought to myself “Wow, that would be really handy. It would fulfill two purposes. I could write and fix stuff!” Then I remembered airport security. They would never let me get through with a screwdriver. I might get shot at the gate or tackled by security guards. But I just knew I had to have that pen. So I decided to smuggle it.

I won't expand on just how I smuggled it, but it was a success. I got the 'pen' into India. Well, that pen didn't do much for the first month and a half. Occasionally I would write something with the pen, but it's true powers were never utilized.

Until two days ago.

My mom and I had just gone swimming in the Bay of Bengal and were heading back to our scooter. We noticed two boys hammering on a bicycle. They were trying to break the lock off the bike. At first I thought “Oh, those two boys are stealing someones bicycle.” I was committed to non-action. Then I saw that the younger of the two boys was crying. My assessment of the situation changed. Now I thought “Oh, that younger boy lost the key to his dad's bike and now he is totally screwed.”

At this point I was still firmly resolved not to do anything. But my mom wasn't so dedicated.

First she asked the boys if they had lost the key. The sobbing one, who was also trembling, nodded an affirmative. With my ally in non-action suddenly switching sides I began to feel the myself slipping into the situation.

And then, I remembered the 'pen'. My whole outlook on the situation completely changed. Suddenly I was filled with a desire to help these poor children. So, I walked over to the their bike, fiddled with the lock, hemmed and hawed, and pulled out the pen. The kids looked flabbergasted. A pen? What the hell was that going to do. But then I turned it into a screwdriver, their expressions didn't change.

Oh well. I then commenced to fiddle with the lock hemming and hawing. The pen turned screwdriver was useless. At this point the watchmen of a nearby business came over to see what all the commotion was about. He immediately took charge, being much older than me and a true man, he knew infinitely more about bike locks than I did.

I watched as he worked on the lock trying to pry it open in a variety of ways. Finally, happy to be able to show off my 'pen' I brandished it in front of the man's face. He grabbed it and within minutes the lock was no more. The 'pen' held up admirably. It was wrenched around in the most violent of fashions, however, it didn't break.

Yah! Another conquest. Totally. I was ready to scooter off, having done my duty as a man(kind of).

And then my mom said “Wait”. I waited. She gave the two boys rs 65 to buy a new lock.

If I were inclined to reflect on the situation (which I'm not). I would have to say that despite all the work that me and that watchmen did it wasn't really us who were the true heroes of the day. In fact there wasn't a hero of the day. There was a heroine. Without my mother's commitment to action I would have left those boys. Without our intervention the watchmen never would have helped two Indian boys. So, the true heroine is my mother. However, I didn't reflect on the situation so what the hell are you talking about? It was all me.