Narrative

Stranded

I had to be at work at one o'clock. It was the morning after the show, and i was completely stranded in Philadelphia with no hopes of getting back to South Jersey in time. I had two dollars and twenty five cents floating around aimlessly in my pocket, not even enough to catch the next train back to Jersey and even then, no way of getting to work from there. Being stranded somewhere you really don't want to be is an extremely annoying situation, but my situation was far beyond annoying, it was a serious problem.

The night before my band and I played a reunion show at the Pontiac Grill on South Street in Philadelphia. After the show we ran into a bunch of old friends and couldn't pass up the opportunity to attend a party my friend Mike was throwing in honor of one one the most memorable and historical shows my band had put on in the longest time. The guitarist of my band had work in the morning as did I, but caught up in the moment I decided to stay the night in Philly. Well, being one of a handful of kids that lived back in Jersey, I carelessly allowed the most important notion of getting back to Jersey the next morning to slip my mind. Waking up the next morning I realized that my whole band and the rest of the handful of kids living back in Jersey had already left. Within no time, I had come to the horrible realization that no one was going anywhere remotely close to where I needed to be. This made for quite the predicament, which could have well been easily avoided if I had given an honest effort to planning ahead. But, what was done had been done and I had to start thinking, and fast.

I ended up reluctantly spending the day in the City of Brotherly Love and missed work. I had called every last one of my friends, even the ones I haven't talked to in ages, to see if I could get a ride out of this painfully frustrating predicament. But no one seemed to have the time or the means to help. I then called my work to try to explain the situation in a calm and honest fashion, but because of my prolonged history of the same old thing, it wasn't the easiest thing in the world. My boss knew right away what the deal was and I could tell I was beginning to get on his bad side, which didn't help the situation at hand much. Finally, as I was about to start walking home, my friend Ali had called back and said that, coincidentally, her car was indeed