The Day That Changed Everything

No, I'm not talking about 9/11.

 

Think about this: if you distilled your life down to it's most basic parts, down to quite simple moments in time, could you come up with a single moment that your whole life changed?

 

I can.  It happened this way.

 

1991.  I was living in Phoenix.  It was very, very hot that year.  Not as hot as the previous year, but still HOT.  I recall that one day that I actually fried an egg on the sidewalk.

 

I was working as a sales associate for a major appliance rental center who I choose not to name.  Basically, what sales associate meant was "Repo Man".  It was NOT a fun job, by any stretch of the imagination.  However, it was close to my apartment, and it was my very first job out of college, so I figured that I would stick with it for a while.

 

So, on an extremely plain and regular Tuesday afternoon, I was driving the work truck to a location to go pick up a renter's VCR.  From what I recalled, this particular person hadn't made a payment on the VCR for three weeks.  Three weeks was like a magic number for my boss back then; three weeks late, either they pay or we would pick up our rental merchandise.  So off I went.

 

When I got to person's house, I knocked on the door.  Mr So and So, I said, I'm here to pick up the VCR.

 

The guy came to the door looking surly.  I knew that look and really wanted no part of it.  In my friendliest, but most professional voice, I asked him if he was aware that his payments on the VCR were three weeks late.

 

Yes, he replied, looking me directly in the eye.

 

I then explained that I'd have to pick up the VCR unless he intended to pay on it.  I was starting to feel a bit nervous, even though I had done this exact thing before.  I asked him where the VCR was at this time, because I need to pick it up.  "Ok," he responded, "I'll get it."

 

He left the room, and returned with VCR in hand. 

I thanked him, and told him to stop by the store if he wanted it back, then turned my back.  Then I heard an audible *click*.  Uh oh.

When I turned back around, there was a gun to my head.

 

Let me attempt to describe the feeling conveyed by being in a strange person's house looking at a gun.  First of all, you are quite aware that the encounter can go, uh, poorly.  My life most certainly did NOT flash before my eyes, which is a feeling that I now find a touch strange.  The experience actually was quite similar to the feeling one gets when they have veered off a two lane highway, heading straight for a semi-dense forest, then finding yourself doing a 720 across the highway doing 65 mph in the middle of the night during a full moon in the middle of Central Texas, nowhere close to a populated town that possibly could send someone to save your butt before the car explodes. 

We're talking pee-scared here.

 

But, since I'm talking to you now, I can tell you this: I talked this gentleman out of shooting me.  And he gave me $50 to pay for his back rent.

 

This encounter, however, gave me the courage to:

1.  Get back into my truck and drive to my place of employment.

2.  Drop off the $50, my store keys, and resign.

3.  Go home, call my landlord and break my lease.

4.  Call a friend in Washington D.C., tell her that I would be there in two weeks, and that I hoped that she had room.

 

That was the day that changed everything.  I left Phoenix and was in Washington by September.